

Today’s scripture options were from Psalm 116, Psalm 117, and Luke 9:37-50. Psalm 117 is only 2 verses long. The shortest chapter in the bible. It is designated as a call to worship. Psst…I used this once in the traditional service. 😊 Psalm 116 offers thanksgiving for recovery from an illness. Not a bad topic. Paul says more than once in his letters to give thanks. I know last week I skipped Luke because it was a hodge podge of topics. The Luke passage for today does seem to jump around a bit too, but I could find some connections between the different pieces. I’ll leave it to you to read Luke 9:37–50 slowly and maybe more than once.
The first scene of this passage reminds me of the many times when I would struggle and struggle and struggle with something. The next thing I’d know, someone would come along and say, oh this is how you do it. This happened to me when I worked for Intuit. I’d get in the weeds about a QuickBooks issue I was trying to solve and then Brad would walk by point a finger at one thing and suddenly, the light bulb came on. I went from relief, to annoyance, to relief again. How could I miss something so obvious.
We see a similar situation when the disciples tried but failed to cast out a demon tormenting a young boy. This story is also told in Matthew and there Jesus tells his disciples later that this kind of demon only came out by prayer and fasting.
The disciples constantly struggle to understand, but Jesus consistently turns their attention back to what they overlook: a suffering child, a child standing beside him, and a person serving outside their circle. Through these encounters, we also hear an invitation to faith that is less concerned with protecting status and more concerned with making room for love.
We have a parent pleading for an only child. We have disciples who are unable to help. Thankfully their failure is not the end of the story, because Jesus can attend to the child and the boy is returned to a grateful father.
Before the debates about greatness and belonging, there is a person in need of care. A progressive reading begins here: human dignity is not an abstract principle; it asks something of us when suffering interrupts our plans. We don’t need to have all the answers before we listen, offer practical help, or refuse to turn away.
As the crowds are marveling, Jesus speaks for the second time about his coming betrayal and death. Once again, the disciples do not understand, and they’re also afraid to ask. Isn’t that uncomfortably familiar? When have you remained silent, thinking that faith requires certainty? When did you worry that asking a difficult question might expose how little you know. Honest questions can become a form of trust. Communities are found where uncertainty is met with patience rather than shame, and where wonder does not prevent us from facing painful realities.
As if they had anything to boast about, the disciples get into an argument about who is greatest. Jesus responds by placing a child beside him and connecting welcome for that child with welcome for himself and the One who sent him. Again, He redirects attention from rank to relationship. This is not an invitation to romanticize powerlessness or tell people to accept mistreatment. It is a challenge to those who measure worth by influence: whose presence matters in our communities, whose needs shape our decisions, and who receives our attention when there is nothing to gain?
Finally, the disciple John reports that the disciples tried to stop someone acting in Jesus’ name because that person was not part of their group. Jesus tells them not to stop him. Their circle does not define the limits of God’s work. For us, this can mean recognizing compassion beyond our own congregation or tradition and cooperating in good work without demanding uniformity.
Discernment still matters, but difference alone is not a reason to reject a neighbor’s contribution. We can ask not only whether someone belongs to us, but whether we are willing to recognize the good they are doing.
Can you choose one small act of welcome: listen without rushing to explain, invite a quieter voice into a conversation, or support a compassionate effort outside your usual circle. Let the act be specific and simple. Faithfulness today might look a lot less like being impressive and a lot more like being available.