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Finding Our Centre (Luke 10:38-42)

20/7/2025

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Finding Our Centre - Luke 10:38–42

Today’s Gospel reading presents us with a simple domestic scene, a visit to the home of two sisters, Martha and Mary which includes a small domestic squabble. But as is often the case in Luke’s Gospel, what seems ordinary is charged with deep theological meaning.

Luke 10:38–42 may be short in length, but it opens a profound window into Jesus’ vision of discipleship, and it speaks directly to our anxious, multitasking world. To appreciate the richness of this story, we must locate it in the broader flow of Luke’s Gospel and be attentive to some key themes in Luke’s Gospel.

Looking at the context in Luke’s Gospel, this encounter takes place while Jesus is “on the way” to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51 & 10:38). That phrase is not just geographical, it is also theological. From Luke 9:51 onward, Jesus has set his face toward Jerusalem, where he will face the cross. Everything that happens on this journey is shaped by this looming confrontation with power, suffering, and salvation. And our passage today opens with the words, “As Jesus and his disciples were on their way...”

Luke’s narrative carefully choreographs the stories of what Jesus does and says along the way to teach his readers the values of the kingdom. Just before this passage, Jesus rejects the way of retaliation and vengeance when he and his disciples are refused hospitality from a Samaritan village, next Jesus sends out the seventy two, then he teaches the parable of the Good Samaritan, and now visits the home of Martha and Mary.

These  scenes are not random. They are offering a full picture of the life of discipleship:
- A Turning from Vengeance and Retaliation (moving on from the Samaritan village),
- The call to Mission (the sending out of the Seventy Two),
- The call to Service and Compassion (the parable of the Good Samaritan), and now..
-The call to Contemplation and Prayerful Attentiveness  (Mary sitting at Jesus’ feet).

As we enter the story, in the home, we find two sisters: Martha, active, responsible, burdened by many tasks.  Mary, seated at the Lord’s feet, listening to his word.

Martha is not a villain. She is doing what would be expected of a host, particularly a woman in that culture, welcoming, preparing food, ensuring hospitality. In fact, the Greek word used for her “tasks” is diakonia, often translated as “service” or “ministry”, the word a word that elsewhere in the New Testament is viewed positively and forms the root for the word Deacon. Luke is not rejecting service.

But what is being critiqued is distraction. Martha is ‘pulled away’, or ‘pulled apart’ by many things. That’s what the Greek implies. And it leads to inner frustration, anger and judgement that ends up putting her in judgemental opposition not just towards her sister Mary, but also pitted  against Jesus himself: “Lord don’t you care! Don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself – she is angry and frustrated with Jesus for not caring -  Tell her to help me!” Jesus however doesn’t get caught up in her vortex of busy, frustrated angry energy.  Instead he replies, in what appears to be quite a relaxed and laid back kind of way: “Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about so many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her”..

It is important to note that Jesus does not scold her for serving, but for being anxious and troubled about “many things,” when only “one thing is necessary.”

Those words ‘one thing’ takes us to Psalm 27 where the Psalmist speaks of ‘one thing’ - “One thing I ask from the Holy One,  this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Eternal
    all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the Holy One, and to seek him in his temple.”
That “one thing” is what Mary has chosen: to be present, to listen, to be receptive to the sacred Presence of Christ in their midst.  And in doing so we she grounding herself in her own sacred centre.  

Several characteristic themes of Luke’s Gospel converge in this short story:

-Reversal of Expectations: In a culture where men learned from rabbis and women served in the background, Mary’s posture—sitting at Jesus’ feet—is a quiet but radical act. It’s the posture of a disciple. Jesus affirms her in this role. Once again, Luke lifts up those on the margins and challenges social norms. Women are welcomed as disciples.

-The Priority of the Word: Luke emphasises the centrality of hearing and keeping God’s word of grace, and love. In the parable of the sower (Luke 8), the good soil is the one who hears the word and holds it fast. At the Transfiguration, God says, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” (Luke 9:35). Mary models this listening heart – just like Mary the Mother of Jesus does early on in the Gospel when she treasures these things in her heart.

-The Importance of Prayer in the life of discipleship:  More than any of the other Gospels Luke shows Jesus life and action punctuated regularly by moments of retreat, of quiet withdrawal and prayerful stillness.  Beneath all our activity, we need a quiet centre where we can remain in touch with the Holy and Eternal One.  It is no accident that in Luke’s Gospel the very next passage is Jesus teaching his disciples how to pray. Mary in this passage models this life of prayer and prayerful attentiveness as she sits at the feet of Jesus. 

-Lastly, Freedom from Anxiety:  Luke often warns against the tyranny of worry. In Luke 12, Jesus says, “Do not worry about your life…” Here, Martha’s anxious busyness distracts her from the presence of Christ in her home. The call is to let go of the noise within and attend to the still, steady voice of Christ.

It is tempting to pit Mary and Martha against each other: contemplation verses. action, service verses prayer. But that misses the point. In the flow of Luke 10, these two modes are meant to be held together:

The Seventy are sent out in mission—active, outward, engaged.

The Samaritan shows radical mercy—crossing boundaries, responding with compassion.

Mary sits in silent listening—receptive, inward, open.

Discipleship includes all three dimensions.  This is interesting in the context of the religions of the world, because Hinduism emphasises a similar threefold path. In the Baghavad Gita, one of the most loved of the Hindu Scriptures, three paths to the Divine are outlined. The first in the path of devotion, Bhakti Yoga symbolised by Mary seated in quiet devotion at the feet of Jesus. The second path is the path of wisdom, Jnana Yoga – symbolised by Mary listening intently to the words of Jesus. The third path is the path of practical service, Karma Yoga. This is the path that Martha is more naturally drawn to, but if it is to become holy or sacred service, it needs to be balanced by quiet devotion and wisdom. 

What Luke is highlighting in this scene is this same emphasis on balance, that quiet contemplation grounds and nourishes action. Without the “one thing necessary”, without time at the feet of Jesus, or opening ourselves to the Eternal, the Holy One in our midst, our activity becomes frantic, angry, self-centred, and judgemental even if it is well-intentioned.

And so in closing, this story speaks especially to those of us who are busy, who serve, who care, who do. Like Martha, we may feel the weight of responsibilities pressing in. But Jesus gently invites us to a different way, a way of inner stillness, of intentional listening, of choosing the better part, learning to ground our action and service in a life of prayer and stillness, learning to allow our action and service to flow from our sacred centre.

Mary reminds us that the heart of Christian life is not what we do for God or Jesus, but what we allow God or Jesus to do in us and through us. Before we serve, we must listen. Before we speak, we must receive. Before we act, we must dwell in the presence of the Holy One who calls us by name and who dwells in the depth of our own being, for the Kingdom of God is within you says Jesus if we would only take the time to be still and listen.

In a world full of noise and rush, may we, too, choose the better part, finding our spiritual centre as we sit for a while in the Presence of the One who is our peace, our teacher, and our life.

Amen.
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Religion of Kindness

13/7/2025

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 Who Is My Neighbour? A Religion of Kindness -    Luke 10:25–37

In our passage today, a religious lawyer stands up to test Jesus: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”

It’s a big question, not just about what happens when we die, but as we see in Jesus response it is about how we live in the here and now. The Greek word often translated as eternal (aiōnios) doesn’t just mean “unending.” It means ‘of the age’, or ‘belonging to the divine realm’, the realm of the Eternal. So when the lawyer asks about “eternal life,” Jesus hears a deeper question:
“How do I live in harmony with the Eternal One? How do I live a life that reflects the Divine reality?”

Jesus answers, as he so often does, with a question of his own. He draws the man back to Torah (the Law): “What is written in the law? How do you read it?” And the man responds with the Shema, the very heartbeat of Jewish faith: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind, your neighbour as yourself.”

“You have answered correctly,” says Jesus. “Do this, and you will live.” In other words, you will live now, fully, divinely, in harmony with the life of The Eternal.

But, as many of us might be inclined to do, the lawyer seeks to narrow the field: “And who is my neighbour?” he asks.

That’s when Jesus tells a story, a story that shatters ethnic boundaries, a story that cuts to the heart of the Jewish-Samaritan divide. A story that speaks profoundly to our fractured world today.  To fully feel the weight of this parable, we need to understand the history between Jews and Samaritans.

The Samaritans were descendants of Israelites left behind after the Assyrian conquest of the northern kingdom of Israel in the 8th century BC. These Northern Israelites had overtime intermarried with foreigners brought into the land by the Assyrians. While still maintaining their Hebrew religious heritage, over time, their religion developed a little differently. They had their own slightly different version of the Torah or Scriptures, they revered Mount Gerizim instead of Jerusalem, and rejected the Jerusalem Temple and priesthood in Judea. 

The differences are interesting when looked at more closely...

The Samaritans, like the Jews accepted the first five books of Moses (the Torah) as authoritative: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy. 

And so interestingly both groups revered and shared the same core scriptures. They shared the same  creation stories, the stories of the patriarchs (Abraham, Isaac, Jacob), the story of the Exodus from Egypt, the covenant at Sinai and the same laws of Moses

However, the Samaritan version of the Torah had some notable differences. The key difference included the central place of worship: The Jewish version of the Torah points to Jerusalem as the chosen place of worship (see Deuteronomy 12). The Samaritan version of the Torah points instead to Mount Gerizim in Samaria as the chosen holy place.  This was a central theological divide, and is why the Samaritan woman at the well could say to Jesus in John 4:20–22:  “Our ancestors worshipped on this mountain, but you Jews claim that the place where we must worship is in Jerusalem.”

In addition to these shared scriptures Samaritans however rejected the scrolls of the Prophets (Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel etc…), and also what is known as the Writings (Psalms, Proverbs, Danie...).

The real, fundamental break between Samaritans and Jews came after the Jews returned to Judea and Jerusalem after a 70 year exile in Babylon in 538 BC.  When the Jews came back from exile in Babylon, especially under the influence of Ezra and Nehemiah they came back with a policy quite extreme ethnic purity.  The books of Ezra and Nehemiah tell of how Jews were forced to divorce and send away their foreign wives along with children born of those wives. One can only imagine the suffering they endured.   Some scholars say that the books of Ruth and Jonah were written as a direct challenge to this policy of ethnic purity and exclusiveness – showing God’s care towards foreigners.  

It was this policy of ethnic purity from returning Babylonian Jews that led to a decisive break with those who became known as the Samaritans because the Samaritans were regarded as not ethnically pure enough to belong. 

And so with this background, to the Jews of Jesus’ day, the Samaritans were religious deviants and ethnic half-breeds despite the fact that they shared some core religious beliefs and Scriptures and a common religious and genetic heritage. Samaritans, in turn, deeply resented being excluded and looked down upon by the Jews, whom they saw as arrogant and dismissive of their own ancient faith and traditions that also went back to Abraham and Moses.  The Jewish historian Josephus records that, at one point, some Samaritans defiled the Jerusalem Temple by scattering human bones in the sanctuary, a shocking act in Jewish eyes.  This was the kind of tension that existed between the two groups who avoided each others villages and who at times engaged in violent spats between each other.
 
And so when Jesus says in his parable, “A Samaritan came near, and was moved with compassion” he isn't just telling a nice story about kindness. He's breaking open centuries of division, suspicion and hatred.  Imagine saying today in Israel-Palestine:

“A Palestinian child lay bleeding, and it was an Israeli settler or Israeli Soldier who stopped, bound the wounds, and paid for the child’s care…”
Or
“A wounded Israeli soldier was left on the road… and a Palestinian came near, saw him, and was moved with compassion…”

Jesus deliberately chooses the person the lawyer would least expect, or even despise, to be the hero of his story. Why? Why doesn’t Jesus affirm love within his own group? Why does he push the boundary? Why not just love your own?  Because Jesus did not look at humanity through the eyes of nationalism or ethnic identity. He saw all people as members of one human family… He saw all people, Jews, Greeks, Samaritans and Romans as all equally children of God.  His views effectively shattered the notion of his own Jewish people, that they were more special, considering themselves to be God’s favourites as God’s chosen people.  It is clear from Jesus actions and from this story that he no longer believed in the myth of the chosen people, for all people were God’s children, all people were God’s chosen people.  

This was not in fact a new innovation on Jesus part. It is a view shared by Amos one of the earliest prophets.   In words that would have shattered the Jewish/Israel sense of specialness in Amos 9:7 we read “Are you not like the Cushites to me, O people of Israel? says the Lord. Did I not bring Israel up from the land of Egypt, and the Philistines from Caphtor and the Arameans from Kir?”
(Amos 9:7)

This verse is astonishingly universalist in tone. Amos is suggesting that Israel’s exodus from Egypt is not a unique saving act. Other nations, too, have experienced divine guidance and liberation. The Philistines and Arameans, even Israel's enemies, are also part of God’s providential care and concern. This would have deeply unsettled any idea that Israel alone was the object of God’s saving action. Amos relativises Israel’s special status, placing it alongside other nations in God’s care.

And so for Jesus in our passage today, he is saying to the Jewish lawyer that to live in harmony with the Eternal One is to expand the heart beyond care and concern for one’s own group. The true test of love, in harmony with the Eternal Heart of God, suggests Jesus in this parable, is how we love and treat those who are unlike us, even those we might consider enemies. This is deeply challenging stuff for all of us. 

And so Jesus locates Eternal Life in the here and the now - precisely in the radical acts of kindness, mercy and compassion that cross ethnic and religious boundaries.

What might this parable say to our world today?  It invites us to see the humanity in the ones we have been taught to fear and despise. To let compassion rise above history’s divisions. To let the grief and the pain of others matter as much as our own.

The Samaritan does not ask who the man is. He simply sees a fellow human being in need.  This does not mean we ignore questions of justice or injustice or collapse moral distinctions or ignore cultural differences. But it does mean there is no path to peace unless we learn to see the other as neighbour and as fellow human being.

Jesus ends the parable not with a grand theological summary, but with a simple command:

“Go and do likewise.”  
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Seventy Messengers of Peace

6/7/2025

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Seventy Messengers of Peace - Luke 10:1–11, 16–20

Last week in the Gospel reading from Luke 9, we found ourselves with Jesus on the road to Jerusalem. It’s a turning point in Luke’s narrative, as Jesus “sets his face” toward Jerusalem. The tone of the narrative shifts. From this point onward in Luke’s Gospel there is an urgency and a resolve in Jesus. But as we saw last week there is also misunderstanding.

As Jesus and his followers pass through a Samaritan village, they are refused hospitality. And James and John—perhaps feeling personally offended, or perhaps righteous in their tribal loyalty—respond with a chilling suggestion:  “Lord, do you want us to call down fire from heaven to consume them?”

Jesus rebukes them. He will have none it. His way will not be the way of violence, retaliation, or coercion.

And that brings us to today’s passage.

If Luke 9 shows us the temptation to destroy what we fear or do not understand, Luke 10 shows us the alternative: the sending out of the seventy (or seventy-two), not to call down fire from heaven, but to be bearers and shareres of the inner Kingdom of the Heart, the Inner Kingdom of Love and Peace… not just peace as social politeness, but peace that comes from a heart and a life rooted in the Eternal where living waters well up with Eternal life and where we are in touch with the peace that passes all understanding. 

This is no small detail. It’s as if Jesus is saying:

“You thought fire and power were the signs of God. But the real revolution, the true sign of God’s kingdom will be people entering homes, sharing food, accepting hospitality, and speaking words of peace.”

As I mentioned last week, we’re living in a time when fire is very much being called down. The fires of war, of fear, of nationalism, of vengeance. We’ve seen cities reduced to rubble, hospitals and schools turned to ash, entire families wiped out in moments—in Gaza, Ukraine, Lebanon, Israel, Iran. The cycle o violence is devastating and seemingly endless. It is violence that flows out of hearts overflowing not with the inner peace of the Divine, but from hearts overflowing with fear, anger, resentment and vengeance. 

And yet, in contrast to the ethnic violent intent of his own disciples James and John, as well as the cycles of violence we see in our own world today, here in this passage we find Jesus sending out disciples two by two, “like lambs among wolves”, to offer the inner Kingdom of peace to all nations – that is the significance of the number 70/72. In the Old Testament this is the number of the totality of the nations. The disciples are to go to all the nations, not to condemn, not to dominate, but to announce that the kingdom of God has come near for indeed it resides in the depth of every human heart waiting to be discovered and brought forth.

In contrast to the desire of James and John to dominate and destroy their perceived enemies in the preceding passage, notice how Jesus sends out the seventy two: No purse. No bag. No sandals. Greet no one on the road.

In other words, they are to go in vulnerability, in trust, with nothing to defend and nothing to prove, while remaining focussed, undistracted from the task before them.

This is radically countercultural. We tend to associate power with being armed, prepared, and in control. But Jesus sends them out disarmed, dependent, and open.  And their message? It’s not “Convert or else.” It’s not “Here’s how to fix your life.” It’s simply: “Peace to this house.”

If that peace is welcomed, it rests there. If not, they are to move on. No manipulation. No forcing. Just peace, the peace of the inner Kingdom of the heart offered freely, and the freedom to walk away without bitterness.

This is mission as mutuality, a sacred encounter between guest and host, where both are changed in the mutual exchange of peace. It is a sharing in communion from the deep inner peace of the soul – the inner kingdom of the heart.

Of course, Jesus acknowledges that not every house will receive peace. Sometimes, the inner door of the heart will stay shut. The openness and welcome will not come from hearts and minds stuck in the ways of the small egoic self.

And in these instances he says:  “Shake the dust from your feet.”

We should not read these words as a curse but rather a gesture of release, a way of saying, “I leave without resentment.” It's a refusal to carry spiritual residue, shame, anger, or rejection, resentment.  How often when we think someone has rejected or slighted us, we chew on it for ages and it seeps into our hearts and into our bones and the anger and resentment begin to rise up within us and we just can’t let it go.  Don’t let this happen to you says Jesus to his disciples. Don’t hang onto the dust of resentment. Don’t let it get a grip on you. Simply shake off the dust from your shoes and move on.  This teaching is echoed in AA spirituality in the phrase: “What other people think of me is none of my business...”  (it’s their business). In other words, shake of the dust and move on. 

And so in the passage, the Kingdom of God comes near, but it is never imposed.

Now, if you’ve read beyond today’s selected verses, you’ll know that in Luke 10:12–15 Jesus speaks some hard words of warning for the towns that do not receive his messengers. 

These harsh-sounding verses, Jesus’ woes to Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum, can sound like divine threats. But if we are to be consistent in understanding the way of Jesus they should be read more like laments. They’re not curses but warnings. Jesus is naming the path some are walking down, the path of the ego, a path of resistance to peace, resistance to the vulnerable kingdom he’s offering.

And looking back, Luke’s community would have known and seen those consequences unfold. The violent Jewish revolt of 66 AD, and the crushing Roman response, left cities like Jerusalem in ruins. Towns and villages were destroyed. Thousands were killed or displaced.

In these difficult verses from 12-15, Jesus is not threatening judgment from above, but grieving what happens when individuals and whole societies turns from the ways of peace. And that grief echoes painfully in our own day too. When the peace of God’s inner Kingdom is refused, when cycles of vengeance are chosen, we find ourselves weeping over the consequences.

Lastly, after being sent out in this way, the disciples return amazed. Even the demons submit to them. They’ve seen the power of Jesus message of peace flowing through them.

But Jesus cautions them:  “Do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but that your names are written in heaven.”

In other words: Don’t measure your worth in your success, your impact, or your status. Your joy is not in power or success, but rather in belonging, in being known, held, and loved by the Source of all life that dwells in the depth of our hearts. 

This is good news for us in a culture obsessed with performance and influence. The deepest joy is not what we do or achieve, but that we are known and loved by God, the Divine Source of Life, that we are in fact children of eternity, that I believe is what the phrase “your names are written in heaven” is pointing to – finding our true identity rooted in the eternal.   

When this happens, then like Jesus says, we will see Satan fall like lightening.  This I believe is symbolic, mythical language that refers to the ego, that false, small self within, the inner voice of separation, accusation, pride, fear, and domination. When we are rooted in our Eternal Inner identify, then we too experience the 

In conclusion our passage today invites us to become bearers and carriers of the inner Kingdom of God’s peace in a world on fire.  And Jesus sends us out as he sent his disciples:  Not with clever arguments or worldly power, but with open hearts and open hands. Not to call down fire, as James and John want to, but to be messengers of peace. In a world that burns with division, vengeance and inhumanity, our challenge and our vocation as followers of Jesus is to carry the cool water of mercy, to be, as Jesus says, lambs amongst wolves, vulnerable messengers of the inner Kingdom of Divine peace.

We might not change the world today. But we might change a conversation. We might ease someone’s burden. We might hold a space for healing.  And when that happens, the kingdom of God has come near.
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