rejoice

The highest possible credibility goes to the ones who’ve been there and actually done things. In the Army there are many medals that can be given, but the most coveted decoration is the simple Combat Infantryman’s Badge, awarded to warriors who’ve actually had to fight. In the medical field, even the most senior practitioners will show up for a lecture by someone who, say, was in Africa fighting Ebola. And church members show up in droves to hear from missionaries.

This morning, I was reminded of these human examples when I read something kind of odd that Jesus said. Luke 10 tells of the time he sent out disciples to minister through healing and evangelizing. The aftermath is recorded in part in 17-20: 

“The seventy-two returned with joy and said, ‘Lord, even the demons submit to us in your name.’

“He replied, ‘I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you. However, do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.’”

“I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven.” Isn’t that kind of an interesting response? Yet I was immediately awed. It was almost chilling to think that Jesus was there in that moment when God cast Satan down; of course I knew it intellectually but reading this I could almost see it.

This is the ultimate in credibility. This, it seems to me, is Jesus saying that he knows demons and their master, and that his authority is greater. All this is interesting to me because, having established himself as the highest possible expert, he then lets them down gently, telling them something that I think is important for me. Jesus reminded them he had given them something more amazing than the authority to cast out demons; he had given them salvation.

I’m sometimes proud of my achievements. On occasion I’m even proud of ministry accomplishments. Jesus reminds me today, in these verses, that he enabled every accomplishment I have, including the one I could never have done for myself. 

It’s a reminder not to be proud, but instead to be grateful.