Luke 10:20 “Don’t rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”

Power is not a bad thing in itself, especially power over the dark spiritual forces. God needs someone to exercise this power in his plan to save people.

But separated from its saving purpose, its freeing effect on souls once ruled by Satan, the power to drive away the spirits is just a phenomenon. It’s merely a novelty, almost a clever trick. Some people can wiggle their ears or curl their tongue in a circle or crack their knuckles. Maybe they find it entertaining or take some small pride in it, but how does it really benefit them?

Jesus doesn’t want spiritual gifts and powers to turn into a temptation to pride. He is nipping this tendency in the bud for the seventy-two returning from their mission trip. Later Paul would have to confront the Christians in Corinth who could speak in tongues because they became infatuated with the ability and forgot that God gave it to them to serve others. It didn’t make them better than other believers or closer to God.

The real prize always remains the same: “Rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” This isn’t something we do. It’s something we receive. It is not a reward we earn by faithfully doing mission work or living a life of love. It is the gift that was already ours before we did anything for God. He made it our own from the moment we came to faith.

Your name has been written in the book of life. It is inked there in the blood of Jesus. No matter how the fight with Satan and his allies seems to be going, that is reason to be happy. It is a victory already won, not a fight for something you hope to achieve. Live in its joy, then share the message that can add other names to the list. A few simple words can make an eternal difference for them.

Luke 10:19 “Look, I have given you the authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and over all the power of the enemy; nothing at all will harm you.”

You may know that this is one of the passages taken out of context by some Christians to promote the practice of snake-handling. Many years ago I served a congregation in Atlanta, Georgia. We were at the foot of the Appalachians. The Atlanta Journal Constitution ran a series in their Sunday paper on Pentecostal snake-handlers, because a man had been bitten and died handling rattle snakes. The snake handlers believe that if you have enough faith you can handle the snakes and not get bitten, or not be affected by the bite. But that is taking Jesus’ words out of context, turning a promise into some sort of twisted command.

Jesus words aren’t telling us to seek out the snakes and scorpions. They simply promise protection if they get in the way of legitimate mission work. Sometimes mission work can be a little dangerous. Before I moved to Atlanta, I spent a year doing mission work in crime-infested neighborhoods in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Some of the homes I visited weren’t very safe. At one duplex where I taught a Bible class I learned that the upstairs neighbors ran a crack house and suspected I was a cop. One day when I was canvassing, I walked past a park where I saw a police car speeding down a sidewalk. A group of excited kids told me there had been a shooting, and that if I looked over here I could see where the bullets scraped the sidewalk. The threat of violence was always present, but none of it ever affected me.

That’s not to say no harm is possible. We know what happened to these men eventually. Only one of the Twelve died a natural death. In 2 Corinthians 11 the Apostle Paul lists some of the many things he suffered for the gospel: whippings, beatings, shipwrecks. Yet until he had completed his mission and God was done with him on earth, he walked away from all these things, including a snake bite.

So Jesus’ words aren’t encouraging us to put ourselves needlessly in harm’s way or seek out danger. But they do offer a freedom from fear, a freedom to pursue our gospel work boldly. We spread the gospel with an otherworldly immunity from harm, a promise of heavenly protection, until our mission is complete, our time is up, and our Lord is ready to welcome us home.

Luke 9:59-62 “Then he said to another, ‘Follow me.’ ‘Lord,’ he said, ‘First let me go bury my father.’ But he told him, ‘Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and spread the news of the kingdom of God.’ Another said, ‘I will follow you, Lord, but first let me go and say goodbye to those at my house.’ But Jesus said to him, ‘No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.’”

Each of these men wanted to delay following Jesus. “First let me go…” Each excuse had to do with family: a funeral and a farewell. Each request probably sounds reasonable to us. Who wouldn’t attend their parents’ funerals? Who wouldn’t let their family know they were leaving on some endeavor and would not be returning soon?

But Jesus sees more in these men than we can. His responses indicate they have an issue with priorities. They still don’t grasp the place God’s kingdom demands in our hearts. Family duty is important, especially if they are still alive. But burying the dead is largely ceremonial. The man making the excuse says nothing about comforting the living, and the kingdom’s claim on our lives is higher still. What his soul needs at this time is Jesus, and so do those he could preach to.

Family affection is strong. The Lord designed it to be that way. But what if the family is pulling us in another direction, trying to talk us out of our devotion to Jesus? Will we really say farewell to them? If we can’t make a commitment to follow him, what good are we to the kingdom then?

It’s not that family is unimportant. It is that Jesus doesn’t want it to become an idol in our lives, standing between us and following him. “He that loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me. He that loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me,” he warns in another place. Following Jesus may mean parting with family, at least from the top spot in our priorities.            

It also leads to wonderful places. Following him leads to knowing the truth, seeing the world as it truly is. It leads to God’s family and a loving Father’s waiting arms. It leads to the peace of forgiveness and life that never ends. We may not have anticipated the difference following him makes in our lives. But we lose nothing of lasting value when we do. Don’t be afraid to go where he leads.

Luke 9:57-58 “As they were traveling on the road, someone said to him, ‘I will follow you wherever you go.’ Jesus told him, ‘Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.’”

There is nothing wrong with this man’s words, “I will follow you wherever you go.” Every one of us should be ready to say the same. It is the nature of following someone, though, that you end up in all the same places they go.

Several years ago there was a GPS issue near Denver’s airport. A traffic accident blocked the road. Google maps suggested an alternate route to many people trying to get around the traffic jam and make their flights. One after another it led them down a dirt road that turned to mud, and dozens of them ended up getting stuck. One lady commented, “My thought was, “Well, all these other cars are in front of me, so it must be OK.” But when you follow, you end up in the same place as the person ahead.

Jesus’ words indicate this man didn’t see some of the rough roads over which Jesus traveled. The words don’t claim that he lived outside like a homeless man. He and the disciples may have camped out under the stars from time to time. When he was in Capernaum, it seems he stayed at Peter’s house. When he traveled to Jerusalem, his friends Mary and Martha from the suburb of Bethany generally gave him a room. Other people in other places took him in and put him up for the night.

The point is, Jesus never put down roots in one place. He did not invest himself in this world as though it was his real home. He wasn’t trying to make his life comfortable here, establishing a presence and a career and relationships, collecting things and planning for the future in a way that attached him to one place and created the illusion of permanence. He enjoyed good things, loved people, and celebrated life. But he understood like no one else that our time on earth is a journey. We are passing through. As C.S. Lewis wrote, “Our Father refreshes us on the journey with some pleasant inns, but he will not encourage us to mistake them for home” (The Problem of Pain).

If we are following him, the same applies to us. I live in a nice house. My wife and I often comment on how much we like it. It is the seventh place I have called home in my life. But tomorrow an Oklahoma tornado could tear it all apart and blow it all away. Or next week God could call me to another ministry in another place, and we would have to leave it all behind. Or it is possible that twenty or thirty from now my children and grandchildren could be gathered in that house after my funeral, reminiscing about the past and deciding what to do with the stuff that is left.

In any case, I don’t get to keep it. Following Jesus means letting go of this world and such stuff. It’s part of the difference that following him makes.

Luke 9:51-56 “When the days were coming to a close for him to be taken up, he determined to journey to Jerusalem. He sent messengers ahead of himself, and on the way they entered a village of the Samaritans to make preparations for him. But they did not welcome him, because he determined to journey to Jerusalem. When the disciples James and John saw this, they said, ‘Lord, do you want us to call down fire from heaven to consume them?’ But he turned and rebuked them, and they went to another village.”

There are two things to note about the hostility this Samaritan village showed. First, it wasn’t dangerous or violent. These men would confront life-threatening opposition later in their ministries, just like Christians are attacked and killed by the hundreds and thousands in parts of Africa and the Middle East today. But on this day it was more the garden variety of disinterest and dislike we tend to encounter. These villagers didn’t want Jesus and his band of followers to think they were interested in their religion, or interested in having them hang around hoping to get into a conversation about faith. “No thank you. Keep going–next village, please.”

I meet hundreds of the same kind of people every year. Sometimes before I can finish introducing myself at the door on which I knocked, the door is already closing again: “No thank you. Keep going–next house, please.”

The second thing to note about the Samaritan villagers is that their reasons for rejecting Jesus were relatively petty. They don’t refer to deeply held theological or moral convictions. They were Samaritans, and Jesus was a Jew making his way to Jerusalem, one of their least favorite cities. That was the end of any conversation. I can’t tell you how many times people have shut down any conversation with the “deeply theological” insight, “We’re not church-goers.” It’s essentially, “We like to sleep in or play on Sundays. Don’t disturb our comfortable habit.” Their objection is not, “We disagree with Christian teaching on sex and marriage,” or “We have a problem with the idea that Jesus was God.” It’s been said the path to hell is paved with good intentions. I’m convinced that some stretches are also paved with spiritual and moral laziness.

If James and John found the hostility of the Samaritan villagers surprising, it was Jesus’ reaction that really gave them an eye-opener: “When the disciples James and John saw this, they said, ‘Lord, do you want us to call down fire from heaven to consume them?’ But he turned and rebuked them.” You may have heard the disciple John called the Apostle of Love because of all the times he quotes Jesus talking about love. But we forget this pair of brothers was also called “The Sons of Thunder” based on this very incident. “These people don’t appreciate you very much, Jesus. Do you want us to incinerate them?”

Can we Christians today be a little too ready to go to war and call down death and judgment on our opponents? Can we so frame our relationship to an unbelieving world that we make them all an enemy to attack? I often read the comments section after online articles. I am struck by how many Christians lose all sense of decency and good will in the comments they make. I am humbled when I realize how outraged and hostile I begin to feel towards people whose views may be horribly mistaken.

Jesus turned and rebuked the brothers for their suggestion. That’s not why he came. If these villagers were ultimately lost to hell, that wasn’t a victory to celebrate. It was a loss to grieve. Jesus rescued us, no better than anyone else, from our sin and unbelief. He was on his way to Jerusalem to lay down his own life to secure our forgiveness and life.

There is a war, a spiritual battle, between Jesus and the world, it is true. But it is a war to liberate souls, fought with love and grace, not a scorched earth campaign to rid the universe of the people who are trapped in darkness. Nothing beats the darkness back like the gospel: good news of a gracious God who forgives every sin, whose love turns enemies into friends. It is only appropriate that we deliver that message with grace and love as well.

2 Timothy 1:9-10 “He has saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works, but according to his own purpose and grace, which was given to us in Christ Jesus before time began. This has now been made evident through the appearing of our Savior Jesus Christ, who has abolished death and has brought life and immortality to light through the gospel”

Have you ever thought about how your life might be different if you weren’t a Christian? There is fun you could be having, but Jesus has ruined it for you, because now you feel guilty if you do it. Think of the things you could buy if you could have all the money you put in the offering plate back. I don’t mean to brag, but I graduated near the top of my high school and college classes. Think of the schools I could have attended, the careers I could have pursued, the wealth I could have accumulated, the respect I might have commanded.

But here we are, you and me–Christians, believers, Jesus’ disciples, children of God. He has saved us from the “fun” that would have cost us our souls for all eternity. He saved us from the self-centered life that would have traded the genuine heaven for a really poor, temporary, cruddy version on earth.

In their place we have been called with a holy calling. We have been set apart by God and made something special. We have been singled out by him to be his very own. Then, we have been given a part in the most important project in history, the greatest rescue operation the world has ever seen. Your life, my life, has meaning and purpose that will make a difference for humanity for all eternity, though now we might struggle to see what that is day by day. Maybe God is using you to save a family member, a neighbor, a grandchild, a classmate, the person who fills your prescriptions, a stranger you will not meet for another five years, or a citizen of another country on another continent who doesn’t even speak your language.

You realize that merely having this calling is like winning the spiritual lottery, humanly speaking. We weren’t chosen for any qualifications: “Not according to our works,” Paul says. We didn’t impress God with our work ethic. We didn’t win him over with our stellar behavior. We didn’t look any different than any of the other seven billion people he could have called to faith and service. For our part, we were exactly like everybody else.

But he called you. And it wasn’t dumb luck. It was part of God’s careful plan, part of the oldest plan he ever made. He called you “according to his own purpose and grace, which was given to us in Christ Jesus before time began.” In that ageless emptiness before the Lord ever said, “Let there be light,” he was already thinking about you. He knew how he was going to make you, knew you by name, knew that he would overcome any obstacle and move any mountain that stood between him and having you. He decided to make you his own.

And that is what he did. “This has now been made evident through the appearing of our Savior Jesus Christ, who has abolished death and has brought life and immortality to light through the gospel.” Jesus came, died, rose, returned. His gospel revealed, proclaimed, explained, and impressed life and immortality on the hearts of God’s people everywhere. Today you hear it calling. Today it claims you as God’s own. Today you embrace it for yourself.            

Nothing will ever give you more than this gospel. Nothing will ever be more important for the people we know or meet. Share it, and enjoy the gift that surpasses all others.

2 Timothy 1:7 “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but one of power, love, and sound judgment” (CSB).

The gospel does not leave those who believe unchanged. It convinces us that, for Jesus’ sake, God has forgiven every sin. No payment is necessary on our part. No more punishment is required. All we owed was satisfied at the cross. It convinces us that, though we die, God will raise us from the dead. Jesus’ own resurrection from the dead is proof of the fact. Death no longer ends our hope and condemns us to hell. It opens the door to a new life, a vastly better life, a heavenly one.

Those who have been set free from their fear of God’s judgment and free from their fear death have really been set free from every other fear as well. We may not be excited to experience some unpleasant episode or another. But if we live every moment under God’s grace and death itself only improves our condition, what more do we have to fear? What can anyone or anything truly do to us? We have been given a new life, a new spirit inside of us, fully capable of coping and conquering anything the world throws our way.

Paul describes that spirit as a spirit of power, of love, and of sound judgment. It is a spirit of power because it actually energizes and enables us to do what God asks. Super-hero movies have been popular for many years: Superman, Batman, Spiderman, the Avengers, and more. From time to time, I see posts on Facebook asking what your super power would be if you were a super-hero. Could you fly, perform feats of super-strength, or move lightning quick?

As a believer in the gospel, you actually have super-powers given by God with your faith. You have a spirit of love that can care about people others would not. You can love your enemies. You can make sacrifices that don’t serve you in the least but only benefit someone who frankly doesn’t deserve your kindness. You can answer insult with blessing, injury with help, offense with grace.

You have a spirit of sound judgment that doesn’t overreact to every setback you suffer. You know it’s not the end of the world, and that with the Lord you will get through this. You aren’t deceived by every appealing lie you’re told. You aren’t carried away by every pseudo-spiritual trend. God has given you super-powers that see through the fog and smokescreens intended to confuse you and mislead your faith.

So God has given you the super powers you need to lay aside the false shame the unbelieving and the ignorant try to use to shut you up and shut your faith down. His word gives you the sound judgment to see through it. His grace gives you the love to respond with grace. And his power makes you and me ready to share in suffering for the gospel, which has brought us such gifts.

2 Timothy 1:7-8 “God has not given us a spirit of fear, but one of power, love, and sound judgment. So don’t be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord, or of me his prisoner. Instead, share in suffering for the gospel, relying on the power of God” (CSB).

Preaching the gospel landed the Apostle Paul in prison. Jail cells were nothing new to him. He had lived in them for a time in Jerusalem, Philippi, Caesarea, and Rome. But this time was different. This time he wasn’t in prison because someone had made false accusations. This time the government itself wanted to get rid of him. Leaders at the very top had begun to see Christian teachings as a threat to the Roman way of life. They didn’t fit the kind of society they were trying to build. Christians refused to participate in state-sponsored religion. That was seen as divisive. Christians were breaking down traditional beliefs and practices about class and social position. The authorities worried that it would be hard to govern people who didn’t know or accept their place. To the Romans, Christian beliefs weren’t just wrong. They were dangerous. People like Paul who spread them had to go.

The beliefs judged unacceptable have changed. The consequences for promoting them are less severe. But similarities remain in the dynamic between faithful Christian teaching and our broader culture today. You are certainly aware that June is pride month. Biblical Christians don’t want gay people to be hurt or mistreated. But they also insist that marriage, by definition, will always be limited to a man and a woman (see Matthew 19:4-6). Sexual activity belongs only inside the married relationship (see Hebrews 13:4). Leaders in many industries, judges in courtrooms, teachers and administrators in the universities, and a large percentage of the general population find such historic Christian beliefs not just mistaken, not just ignorant, not just a quirky old-fashioned way of looking at it, but dangerous, mean, and immoral. Christianity’s consistent, two-thousand-year-old teaching on matters of sex and marriage should not be tolerated, to their way of thinking. Christians should be shamed into giving it up, if necessary. This may mean denying them positions of leadership, maybe the opportunity to work at all. Some of those who resist should be made public examples of. This has been especially true in the entertainment industry.

Note that the teachings that landed Paul in prison were not the death and resurrection of Jesus per se. I don’t know that the Romans cared what the Christians believed happened to Jesus or who he was. It was the Christian way of life that gave them grief. But the Christian teaching all hangs together as a unit. It’s not as though we get to pick and choose which things Jesus’ taught we want to follow. Paul understood the temptation for Timothy to be shamed out of his Christian beliefs.  

We need to understand the temptation and the pressure to be shamed out of ours. “So don’t be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord, or of me his prisoner.” Following Jesus may mean taking some grief for what we believe, for any number of unpopular teachings. Paul is saying to us here, “Don’t give in to the shame others try to impose. Lay it aside.”