And he sent messengers before his face. And having gone they entered into a village of the Samaritans that they might make ready for him.
The last stage of the Lord's road to Jerusalem opens with an ordinary piece of travel planning. He sends men ahead into a Samaritan village to get a place ready. Why knock at a door that would not open?
This road ends at the cross and then at heaven's open doors. It also repeats something that had happened in Samaria long before.
Long ago these Samaritans had rejected the Lord's servant who was about to be taken up. Now, in the same circumstances, they reject the Lord Himself. The everlasting doors were about to open to the King of glory. After the victory of the cross heaven was ready to receive the Lord mighty in battle. But on earth, we read, "they did not receive Him."
The word behind "messengers" is the same one Scripture elsewhere translates as "angel." So were these men, or heavenly beings?
The word "angel" in itself does not describe a nature, but an office. It means a messenger. Only the context and the particular use of the word can decide. The word may apply to people, or to spiritual beings. In Luke 7:24; 9:52; 2 Corinthians 12:7; James 2:25 the term "angel," or its plural, refers to those sent on errands of various kinds.
This was not the Lord's first contact with Samaritans. The two visits ended in opposite ways.
At Sychar, very early in our Lord's ministry, before John the Baptist was even put in prison, a work went on there. We know something about it, and it came out of the Lord's conversation with the woman at the well (John 4). Later, in Samaria, the Lord met opposition. The people of one village refused to receive Him (Luke 9:52), because His face was as though He were going to Jerusalem. Warm welcome and flat rejection — these had been the Lord's experiences in Samaria.
Sending men in front was the normal courtesy shown to someone of rank. When the village would not play its part, the Lord took the lower place without complaint.
At the start, conscious of His personal glory, He looked forward to His being "raised up," as He was later. Then He sends messengers ahead of Him, in the ordinary, well-known manner of someone who wants it known that a person of distinction is coming that way. But the unbelief of the Samaritans changes the scene. They would not receive Him. They refused to build a road for the feet of this glorious One. Instead they forced Him to find the best path He could for Himself, as the rejected One. But He accepts this place at once, without a murmur in His heart.
The villagers turned Him away over the direction He was travelling. What offended them was His obedience itself.
We see the reason they did not receive Him was that His face was set towards Jerusalem. He was going to do God's will without honour or attractiveness or reputation. His obedience and singleness of purpose in going to Jerusalem is the very reason they would have nothing to do with Him. […] The Samaritans would not submit to God's way: Christ did. That is the difference.
Their own religion had already settled the matter before He arrived.
The Samaritans had no excuse. Loyalty to their own sect ruled them completely, in its worst form, and they were hostile to God's centre. They had their own form of worship. They would not receive anyone whose face was turned the opposite way to theirs, and so they refused Christ, the Son of God, on that basis.
The refusal showed up something in the disciples. The correction still stands for anyone carrying His message.
In the Gospel of Luke the Lord is a vessel of grace. He longs for the blessing even of those who are against Him. The disciples had to learn this. They had to watch their spirits; they did not know the kind of people they were. They were in the company of the vessel of grace, so they ought to be like Him. They ought to long for the blessing and salvation of those who are hostile to Christ Himself.
- Sent. "Messengers" names an errand, not an order of beings. Elsewhere the same word appears as "angel." Here it means men sent ahead on the Lord's business.
- Sent into Samaria. The village lay on hostile ground, yet He still knocked. Samaria had already given Him a warm welcome at Sychar, and now a flat refusal.
- Sent to prepare. Sending ahead was the courtesy owed to a person of rank. It asked the village to make the road ready for the One about to be taken up.
- Refused. They shut the door over the direction of His journey. They would not submit to God's way; His obedience to it was the very thing that offended them.
- Answered in grace. He made no protest and forced no entry. Those He sends are to carry the same longing for the blessing of people who are against Him.
And they did not receive him, because his face was [turned as] going to Jerusalem.
Messengers go ahead to arrange a night's lodging. A Samaritan village turns the Lord away — not for anything He did, but for the direction He was walking. Two questions follow: what makes people shut the door on Christ, and what does He do when they do?
Samaritans and Jews had a long dispute about where to worship God. A traveller heading for Jerusalem stood on the wrong side of it.
These Samaritans made a great mistake in refusing to receive the Saviour even as a passing guest. Strong religious prejudices were at the bottom of it. They disagreed sharply with the Jews about the place where people should worship. Mount Gerizim was their sacred spot, and Jerusalem was that of their rivals. Now Jesus had set His face towards Jerusalem. They knew it, and they would not let Him stay in their village — not even for an hour. They were wrong, very wrong. But their refusal shows how religious prejudices darken the understanding and lead to sorrowful results.
These people had every reason to know what Jesus was like. A small thing brought out what was already in them.
There was no readiness for the Lord. Their dislike of favoured Jerusalem made them forget everything: the glory of Jesus, and the proof of His gracious power. These very Samaritans had every reason to know that power and to be grateful for it... How often circumstances bring out the state of our hearts! They would never dare do this if Jesus alone were in view. But some petty selfish feeling stirs up a hidden jealousy and brings everything to light.
What offended them was His obedience to God's will.
He obeyed, and His purpose was undivided. He went to do God's will without honour or attractiveness or reputation. He went to Jerusalem. That is the very reason they would have nothing to do with Him... The Samaritans would not submit to God's way; Christ did. That is the difference.
James and John wanted death brought on the village. Their zeal looked like loyalty, and that is what made it hard to spot.
The first hindrance is selfishness, plain to see... It may come under cover of zeal for the Master's reputation, and this is the most subtle form of all. The Samaritans were altogether wrong in their attitude. He was going up to Jerusalem to die. James and John wanted to defend His importance — and their own along with it — by bringing death on others. Elijah had indeed acted this way when faced with the violence of a king who had turned away from God, but the Son of Man is of another spirit. That was the trouble with the disciples. They had not yet entered into the spirit of grace — the grace that marked their Master.
He had sent messengers ahead in the manner of someone of rank. The village's answer changed the scene.
But He knew "how to be brought low" too. Look at Him with the Samaritan villagers in Luke 9... He sends messengers ahead of Him, in the familiar style of someone announcing that an important person is coming that way. But the unbelief of the Samaritans changes the scene. They would not receive Him. They refused to build a road for the feet of this glorious One. They forced Him to find the best path He could for Himself, as the rejected One. But He accepts this place at once, without a murmur in His heart.
Another writer names what was missing in Him:
Though Lord of all, He was here with a tender heart and a lowly mind, having no self-importance to maintain... Christ, without resentment and without retaliation, will pass on to another village.
The story does not end at that village. Later, Peter and John walked back through Samaria.
How changed were the people of that province and that sect! The Lord was going towards Jerusalem. He entered a village of theirs, and they made Him leave. They would not receive Him, because His face was set toward the mother-city, Jerusalem (Luke 9:53). Now Peter and John, who had been with Him at that time, met with no coldness. Nobody in the Samaritan villages turned them away, even though they were going up to Jerusalem... When the Spirit is at work, prejudices of ages melt away. Difficulties that once looked impossible are no longer there.
- Prejudice. The village shut its door over an old dispute about the right place to worship. Prejudice darkened their understanding.
- Exposure. Circumstances bring what is hidden to the surface. A petty jealousy made them forget the glory and power they already knew in Him.
- Obedience. They rejected Him for going God's way to Jerusalem, without honour or reputation.
- Zeal. The disciples' zeal for their Master's honour was self in disguise. Elijah acted that way; the Son of Man is of another spirit.
- Meekness. With nothing to defend, He answered the insult by walking to another village. Where prejudice once shut Him out, the Spirit later melted it away.
And his disciples James and John seeing [it] said, Lord, wilt thou that we speak [that] fire come down from heaven and consume them, as also Elias did?
The Lord had set His face toward Jerusalem, and a Samaritan village turned Him away for it. Two of His closest followers asked permission to call down fire from heaven. The question is not whether they loved Him, but whether they understood Him.
The Samaritans had every reason to welcome Jesus. Something much smaller got in the way.
They disliked Jerusalem, the favoured city, and that dislike made them forget the glory of Jesus. They forgot the proof of His gracious power — something these very Samaritans had every reason to know and to be grateful for. How often circumstances bring out the state of our hearts! If it were only a question of Jesus, they would not dare to act like this. But some petty selfish feeling stirs up a hidden jealousy, and brings everything to light.
James and John had Elijah in mind. Their choice of example tells us something about them.
The spirit of the sons of Zebedee is aflame, and they would bring fire down from heaven in the manner of Elijah, to consume the rude Samaritans. Their appeal to Elijah's example seems to show that they were already far from sure. Would the Lord want to punish an offence like this in such a way? But they had lately seen Elijah with Him. They could quote his example to One who upheld the authority of Scripture so fully. Yet He makes it no question of Scripture; it was they who did not know what spirit they were of. They were not of His spirit, for the Son of Man had not come to destroy men's lives but to save them.
Their motive looked unanswerable. Who can fault someone for defending Christ's honour?
Of all forms of selfishness this is the most subtle and hardest to detect, for who can complain of zeal for the Lord, or say that it is wrong? And yet under zeal for the Lord there may lurk zeal for self. Zeal for Christ would want His enemies judged. Righteousness might seem to demand it, and a Scripture precedent would support such a course. Still, the Lord rebukes His disciples, saying, "You do not know what manner of spirit you are of." Underneath their zeal the Lord detects and exposes a spirit completely foreign to Himself. The Lord was exercising power in grace to meet man's need. The disciples would exercise power in judgment to gratify their own self-importance.
Commentators differ on where the fault lay. One writer looks past their love to their sense of timing.
They did not know what spirit they were of. That is, they did not discern the time. They did not understand the Lord and His work in this world. They misread the age they were in, and would have treated it as a time of judgment. Their affections were right. Their purpose and design will find its answer in due season, when the day of vengeance comes. So their error was not in affection, but in their grasp of the age they were in. Their Lord had come to save, not to kill.
Another writer contrasts Elijah with the disciples.
Elijah acted here as a representative of the law, which showed no leniency. The disciples of Christ were representatives of the gospel, which proclaims the forgiveness of sins. The old covenant had to alarm and subdue the enemies of the kingdom of God, and it used threatening words and punishing measures. The new covenant aimed to disarm them and, if possible, to win them by forgiving love.
This danger did not end with James and John.
Mr. Darby rightly said that divine principles in the hands of an unspiritual man are like a sword in the hands of a child or a drunk man. How true this is! What damage wrong spirits have done, with hard, harsh speaking that is not of Christ — and all of it supposedly in the name of Christ Himself! They were always in the company of One who showed kindness and love at every point. Yet here they were, still not having learned that lesson, wanting to be cruel and wanting others judged.
The rebuke was not the end of John's story.
Later John went again into Samaria, but showed a far different spirit (Acts 8).
- Refusal. A small grievance made the Samaritans forget everything they knew of His grace. Circumstances expose what is already in the heart.
- Fire. The two pointed to Elijah. That appeal to a precedent hints they already doubted their Master would agree.
- Spirit. Real zeal for Christ's honour hid a wounded self-importance. No one objects to zeal for the Lord, so this fault is the hardest to spot.
- Grace. They mistook the hour. Judgment has its appointed day, but their Lord came to save, and His servants carry forgiving love, not the sword.
- Change. The rebuke did its work. The same John who wanted Samaria destroyed later went back there in a different spirit.
But turning he rebuked them [and said, Ye know not of what spirit ye are].
The rebuke falls on two of Jesus' closest followers, not on the Samaritans who shut their door on Him. It raises a hard question: can zeal for Christ come from a spirit that is not His?
They had a prophet's example to appeal to. One writer sees in the way they appealed to it a sign that they already half expected His answer.
By pleading Elijah's example they seem to show that they were not at all sure the Lord would want to punish an offence like this in such a way. They could hardly have been with Him so long without learning this much of His patience. But they had just seen Elijah with Him, and they could quote his example to One who upheld the authority of Scripture so fully. But He makes it no question of Scripture. It was they who did not know what spirit they were of.
Jesus does not just refuse the plan. He turns round. His correction reaches past the words to the men who spoke them.
James and John later carried great weight and value in the church of God. Yet how painfully they showed here how little they saw of the grace of Jesus! The Lord of glory passes on, accepting His rejection... But His two servants owed everything to the only One who could take away their evil and give them the goodness of God. Yet they would command fire to come down from heaven and consume them like a Jewish prophet — all under the pretence of honouring Jesus. How little love had they for souls! Just as little was it a true regard for Jesus... Jesus turned therefore and rebuked them. It was not now simply a correction of what they were saying, but a rebuke to themselves.
In its chapter this is the third and last form that self takes.
First we saw selfishness in zeal for self, then selfishness hiding under zeal for a party. Now selfishness cloaks itself in zeal for the Lord. Of all forms of selfishness this is the most subtle and the hardest to detect. Who can complain of zeal for the Lord, or say that it is wrong? And yet under zeal for the Lord there may lurk zeal for self... The Lord was exercising power in grace to meet man's need. The disciples would exercise power in judgment to gratify their own self-importance.
Elijah's fire had been right in its own day. What had changed was not Scripture but the period of God's dealings — the dispensation — they now stood in.
They were in a different dispensation of God. It was not the dispensation of law, but of grace, since "grace and truth came through Jesus Christ." As long as God proclaims grace, judgment must wait. Yet judgment must come at last on those who refuse the grace of God.
On the wording itself, commentators differ over how much of the reply belongs here. Some manuscripts add words about the Son of Man coming to save and not to destroy. That is why the ESV prints only that He turned and rebuked them. Kelly thought those added words would put man at the centre here.
If inserted here, it would make man the reason and the end. But the idea went against the display of what God is. It did not fit His grace, which does not only save the soul but fills the heart with the moral glory of the Lord Jesus.
His own conduct answers their plan. He takes the insult and walks on.
Thus rejected, the Lord judges no one. He does not avenge Himself... That a Samaritan should turn away the Messiah was, to the disciples, worthy of destruction. Christ came to save men's lives. He submits to the insult, and goes elsewhere.
Jesus said these words to His own disciples. That is why they still apply.
How many un-Christlike things have been done under the plea of faithfulness to Christ! Possibly we have done them ourselves. And when we did them, our zeal for our Master's honour came from one spirit. It was the same spirit that made James and John eager to call down fire from heaven... We would defend our Master's name. We would stand up for His rights, whatever it cost — and we called down the fire!
- Spirit, not argument. Their case looked sound and their example from Elijah was real. The Lord passed both by and named the spirit underneath.
- Spirit disguised. Self is easiest to hide behind zeal for the Lord, because no one dares call that wrong.
- Spirit dated. Fire belonged to another dispensation. While God proclaims grace, judgment waits.
- Spirit displayed. He answered the insult by taking it and going to another village — that is the temper His followers are to share.
- Spirit examined. Ask not only "is this for Christ?" but "is this like Christ?" — the two can come apart in a sincere heart.
And they went to another village.
A Samaritan village had just shut its door on Jesus because He was heading for Jerusalem. Two of His disciples wanted the village burned. His answer names the reason He came at all — and it rules out the fire they asked for.
The village has turned Him away. Notice what He does not do:
Rejected like this, the Lord judges no one. He does not avenge Himself; He had come to save men's lives. To the disciples, a Samaritan who turned the Messiah away deserved destruction. Christ came to save the lives of men. He accepts the insult and goes elsewhere.
Their request sounded loyal to Jesus.
The last form of selfishness is the lifting up of self under the cover of zeal for the Lord... Of all forms of selfishness this is the most subtle and the hardest to spot. Who can complain of zeal for the Lord, or say that is wrong? Yet under zeal for the Lord there may hide zeal for self... The Lord was using power in grace to meet man's need. The disciples would use power in judgment to gratify their own self-importance.
Their anger had a wounded edge to it, since the slight to their Master was felt as a slight to them.
The disciples would take advantage of the wickedness of these people to exercise a judgment they deserved, but they would do so in the spirit of retaliation. Self was the secret of their proposal, but hidden under the cloak of zeal for the Lord.
James and John had Scripture on their side. Elijah had called fire down, and God answered him.
So, when Elijah asked for fire from heaven to burn up the men sent to arrest him, the fire came. God put His seal on that prayer, terrible as it was. Yet the disciples asked the same about the Samaritans: "Lord, do you want us to tell fire to come down from heaven and consume them?" They met rebuke, not approval: "You do not know what kind of spirit you are of." But why should what was right in Elijah be wrong in them? For this reason: "the Son of Man did not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them."
Another writer applies this to us:
They did not understand how God was dealing with the world now, in sending His Son into it. He had come in grace, not in judgment. The lesson for us is plain. We must not simply copy what was right for another time. We should truly know our own time and what suits it.
So should a preacher today follow Elijah's example?
The law required judgment of sin, and Elijah pressed this on Israel with force, even to the point of bringing God's judgment down on their heads. Yet the Lord Jesus insists that He Himself had not come to carry out the sentence of the law against men. He had come to save them. If this is the very reason for His coming, then the message of His saving grace is clearly the main message of His servants today.
It also shapes how believers treat those who oppose them:
The Lord does not take that place now. He is saving sinners and showing full grace in other ways. As long as He acts like this, He does not want His people to hold earthly power... Suppose someone opposes a believer with evil intent, and the believer wishes him death or injury. That would be foreign to Christianity and against everything it breathes. Christianity shows that the victory grace gives us is to show love and kindness to one's enemy.
The verse ends with an unremarkable action that carries the whole weight of the rebuke.
He turned round and went to another village. It is not pleasant to be trampled on in this world, but Christ was. To do good, suffer for it, and bear it patiently — that is our part... Christ came to suffer, to bear anything for the sake of others. He would not have been doing this if He had called down fire from heaven on the Samaritans. We have to follow Christ in carrying the testimony of God's love into the world in all our walk through it.
Older Bibles open this verse with an extra sentence: "For the Son of Man did not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them." The ESV leaves it out, because the earliest copies divide over it. Kelly, writing on the verse before, doubts it belongs:
The next verse seems to be — the first part at least — a later addition. It was not a question of saving souls in this place.
Either way, the writers agree on why He came: to save.
- Rejected — a village refuses Him, and He neither argues nor avenges; He submits to the insult and moves on.
- Exposed — their request looked like zeal for their Master. Underneath lay their own self-importance.
- Explained — Elijah's fire had God's seal in its day. It was wrong here because the Son of Man came to save lives, not destroy them.
- Applied — saving is why He came. So saving grace is His servants' message, and kindness to enemies is the victory grace gives.
- Followed — He walked on to another village instead of calling down fire. That quiet step is our pattern: carry God's love through a world that tramples on you.