Have you ever had a moment when everything in your life felt like it was building toward a decision? A point when you couldn’t pretend things were fine anymore, couldn’t keep going as usual, and you knew, deep down, it was time to move forward, no matter the cost? That’s where we find Jesus today. Luke tells us that “when the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.” He turns with determination toward the city where everything will come to a head, because that’s where his mission from his Father is taking him.
From here on out in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus isn’t just teaching and healing and meandering through Galilee. He’s walking straight toward suffering, toward the Cross, toward the place where he will give everything for the sake of the world.
In the ancient eastern Mediterranean, to “set your face” meant to fix your whole being in one direction. And what direction does Jesus choose? The one that leads to betrayal, rejection, and death so that grace might be opened to everyone.
And right after this resolution, conflict erupts.
Jesus sends messengers ahead into a Samaritan village, and the people there don’t welcome him because as Luke tells us plainly his face was set toward Jerusalem.
For context, the Samaritans and Jews didn’t get along. They had rival temples, one on Mount Gerizim and one in Jerusalem, they had rival scriptures, and they had rival ideas about what faithfulness looked like.
From their perspective, Jesus was heading to the wrong mountain to worship the wrong way with the wrong people. And so they shut the door on him.
Now, James and John see this, and they come up with what they think is a theologically brilliant plan. They ask Jesus: “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” They’re thinking of the prophet Elijah calling down fire on the prophets of the Canaanite god Baal. They want to defend Jesus’ honor and maybe get a little payback while they’re at it. But Jesus rebukes them.
Because James and John, for all their zeal, have misunderstood the mission. They think Jesus is here to judge the world. But Jesus has set his face toward Jerusalem to save the world – including the very people who shut him out.
He doesn’t go to Jerusalem for vengeance. He goes for mercy. He doesn’t go just for his friends. He goes for his enemies, too. He sets his face not to destroy the Samaritans, but to save them.
And if you read ahead to the book of Acts, you’ll find out that some of the first people to receive the Gospel are Samaritans. The very ones the disciples wanted to wipe off the map.
And then, as they continue on the road, Jesus encounters three would-be disciples. Each one offers to follow him but with some conditions.
One says, “I’ll follow you wherever you go!” And Jesus replies, “Foxes have holes, birds have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” In other words: Do you know what you’re signing up for? Because this road is not one of comfort or certainty.
Another says, “Let me bury my father first.” Now, this likely isn’t about attending a funeral. Scholars suggest it may have been about waiting until his father died and staying put to manage property or family affairs, maybe saving enough to afford a proper tomb. In today’s terms, it’s like saying: “Once I’ve got my 401(k) in order, once I feel secure, then I’ll follow you.”
Still another says, “I’ll follow you, but let me first say farewell at home.” Which sounds like a perfectly reasonable request until you realize he’s hedging. He’s putting Jesus on hold, penciling him in somewhere between errands. Jesus hears it and says, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”
These aren’t rejections of family or stability in themselves. Rather they’re confrontations with what happens when we try to follow Jesus with only part of our hearts. And Jesus makes it painfully clear: discipleship is not half hearted business.
This isn’t a hobby or a side hustle. When Jesus calls you, he doesn’t ask for a slice of your time or a portion of your trust. He calls for your whole life. Not because he’s harsh or cruel but because his face is fixed on the Cross. And on you.
If any of this sounds overwhelming, if it makes you aware of how often you’ve looked back, hesitated, tried to follow Jesus on your terms, then you’re not alone.
Because the truth is, none of Jesus’ disciples got it right. They all wavered. They all fell away. When Jesus finally reaches Jerusalem, not one of them is left standing by his side. And even when he’s raised from the dead, they doubt. They dismiss the witness of the women on Easter morning. And they hide behind locked doors.
All of this means that no one is fit for the kingdom of God. And yet, Jesus still goes to the Cross. He still rises from the dead. He still gives his Spirit to that frightened little ragtag group of screw ups – and they become the Church.
Because in the end, this journey doesn’t rest on our perfect discipleship. It rests on Jesus’ perfect love. Just as he set his face toward Jerusalem, his eyes were fixed on us.
So, friends, where are your eyes fixed today?
In a world full of distractions and detours, what would it look like for you to set your face toward Jesus?
Not because you’re strong enough or pure enough or fearless enough. But because he already walked the road ahead of you. Because his life, his death, and his resurrection are for you.
And this is the way to Jerusalem that he invites us to follow as well: to die with him, and rise again with him over and over again. To lose your life, and find it in him. To become nothing, so that you might gain everything.
So as we walk this road with Jesus, this Way that leads through rejection and sacrifice, through loss and resurrection, remember this: Jesus has already gone ahead of you. He has set his face toward Jerusalem not because we are worthy, but because we are loved. And if you’ve looked back, if you’ve hesitated, if you’ve made excuses or lost your way, take heart. The Gospel is not about our flawless discipleship. It’s about his unwavering mercy. He has fixed his eyes on you, on all of us, not to shame us, but to save us. Not to demand perfection, but to offer transformation. So don’t be afraid to begin again. Don’t be afraid to let go. Don’t be afraid to follow, even if it costs something. Because at the end of that road, past the cross, past the grave, is life. And it is for you. He has set his face toward Jerusalem, so that you might set your face toward him. Amen.
Sermon for June 29, 2025
Link to the readings (track 2) for June 29, 2025
Sermon by The Rev. Taylor Vines
Have you ever had a moment when everything in your life felt like it was building toward a decision? A point when you couldn’t pretend things were fine anymore, couldn’t keep going as usual, and you knew, deep down, it was time to move forward, no matter the cost? That’s where we find Jesus today. Luke tells us that “when the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.” He turns with determination toward the city where everything will come to a head, because that’s where his mission from his Father is taking him.
From here on out in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus isn’t just teaching and healing and meandering through Galilee. He’s walking straight toward suffering, toward the Cross, toward the place where he will give everything for the sake of the world.
In the ancient eastern Mediterranean, to “set your face” meant to fix your whole being in one direction. And what direction does Jesus choose? The one that leads to betrayal, rejection, and death so that grace might be opened to everyone.
And right after this resolution, conflict erupts.
Jesus sends messengers ahead into a Samaritan village, and the people there don’t welcome him because as Luke tells us plainly his face was set toward Jerusalem.
For context, the Samaritans and Jews didn’t get along. They had rival temples, one on Mount Gerizim and one in Jerusalem, they had rival scriptures, and they had rival ideas about what faithfulness looked like.
From their perspective, Jesus was heading to the wrong mountain to worship the wrong way with the wrong people. And so they shut the door on him.
Now, James and John see this, and they come up with what they think is a theologically brilliant plan. They ask Jesus: “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” They’re thinking of the prophet Elijah calling down fire on the prophets of the Canaanite god Baal. They want to defend Jesus’ honor and maybe get a little payback while they’re at it. But Jesus rebukes them.
Because James and John, for all their zeal, have misunderstood the mission. They think Jesus is here to judge the world. But Jesus has set his face toward Jerusalem to save the world – including the very people who shut him out.
He doesn’t go to Jerusalem for vengeance. He goes for mercy. He doesn’t go just for his friends. He goes for his enemies, too. He sets his face not to destroy the Samaritans, but to save them.
And if you read ahead to the book of Acts, you’ll find out that some of the first people to receive the Gospel are Samaritans. The very ones the disciples wanted to wipe off the map.
And then, as they continue on the road, Jesus encounters three would-be disciples. Each one offers to follow him but with some conditions.
One says, “I’ll follow you wherever you go!” And Jesus replies, “Foxes have holes, birds have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” In other words: Do you know what you’re signing up for? Because this road is not one of comfort or certainty.
Another says, “Let me bury my father first.” Now, this likely isn’t about attending a funeral. Scholars suggest it may have been about waiting until his father died and staying put to manage property or family affairs, maybe saving enough to afford a proper tomb. In today’s terms, it’s like saying: “Once I’ve got my 401(k) in order, once I feel secure, then I’ll follow you.”
Still another says, “I’ll follow you, but let me first say farewell at home.” Which sounds like a perfectly reasonable request until you realize he’s hedging. He’s putting Jesus on hold, penciling him in somewhere between errands. Jesus hears it and says, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”
These aren’t rejections of family or stability in themselves. Rather they’re confrontations with what happens when we try to follow Jesus with only part of our hearts. And Jesus makes it painfully clear: discipleship is not half hearted business.
This isn’t a hobby or a side hustle. When Jesus calls you, he doesn’t ask for a slice of your time or a portion of your trust. He calls for your whole life. Not because he’s harsh or cruel but because his face is fixed on the Cross. And on you.
If any of this sounds overwhelming, if it makes you aware of how often you’ve looked back, hesitated, tried to follow Jesus on your terms, then you’re not alone.
Because the truth is, none of Jesus’ disciples got it right. They all wavered. They all fell away. When Jesus finally reaches Jerusalem, not one of them is left standing by his side. And even when he’s raised from the dead, they doubt. They dismiss the witness of the women on Easter morning. And they hide behind locked doors.
All of this means that no one is fit for the kingdom of God. And yet, Jesus still goes to the Cross. He still rises from the dead. He still gives his Spirit to that frightened little ragtag group of screw ups – and they become the Church.
Because in the end, this journey doesn’t rest on our perfect discipleship. It rests on Jesus’ perfect love. Just as he set his face toward Jerusalem, his eyes were fixed on us.
So, friends, where are your eyes fixed today?
In a world full of distractions and detours, what would it look like for you to set your face toward Jesus?
Not because you’re strong enough or pure enough or fearless enough. But because he already walked the road ahead of you. Because his life, his death, and his resurrection are for you.
And this is the way to Jerusalem that he invites us to follow as well: to die with him, and rise again with him over and over again. To lose your life, and find it in him. To become nothing, so that you might gain everything.
So as we walk this road with Jesus, this Way that leads through rejection and sacrifice, through loss and resurrection, remember this: Jesus has already gone ahead of you. He has set his face toward Jerusalem not because we are worthy, but because we are loved. And if you’ve looked back, if you’ve hesitated, if you’ve made excuses or lost your way, take heart. The Gospel is not about our flawless discipleship. It’s about his unwavering mercy. He has fixed his eyes on you, on all of us, not to shame us, but to save us. Not to demand perfection, but to offer transformation. So don’t be afraid to begin again. Don’t be afraid to let go. Don’t be afraid to follow, even if it costs something. Because at the end of that road, past the cross, past the grave, is life. And it is for you. He has set his face toward Jerusalem, so that you might set your face toward him. Amen.