Matthew 10:21–33
And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell.
The woman’s face was pale. As she approached the back door after the worship service, the pastor could see she was upset. Her normally lively eyes were cold. It was totally different to the rest of the people in church that morning. The congregation had just concluded the service by singing a stirring rendition of Martin Luther’s well-known hymn, “A Mighty Fortress is Our God.” After hearing the pipe organ at full volume, spirits were high. But not for her. The pastor asked, “Are you alright?”
“No, not really,” she replied. “I’ve been singing that hymn for most of my life. But for the first time, I noticed a phrase that I had never noticed before. It’s the line, ‘The body they may kill, God’s truth abideth still.’ Pastor, I didn’t expect to hear something like that in church.”
It’s blunt. It’s leftover from Reformation days long ago when doctrines were a matter of life and death. Throughout church history, there have been scores of controversies woven through a tapestry of tradition. Christians have disagreed over the meaning of Bible verses. Groups have formed as some separated differing theological themes and then fought over them. And sometimes, those were the internal battles within church walls.
Externally, whenever the followers of Jesus took the Gospel to new territories, they often faced opposition and even threats on their lives. It may be hard for us to understand, but the commandments to love God above all else and love neighbor as self-have been fighting words in some places. That’s been happening since the Bible was written. In the Acts of the Apostles, saints died by swords or stoning. Paul often found himself in danger for preaching the good news of God. Living the Gospel can be risky business. Jesus said as much
Followers of Jesus might not be surprised at this. A few verses before today’s text, Jesus said, “A disciple is not above the teacher.” Simply put, whatever happened to Jesus could happen to those who follow Him. Jesus treated all people with dignity and paid the price for it. He told the truth and was condemned as a result. Completely committed to God and heaven’s ways, He made enemies and they took His life. If we live by Jesus’ model, we won’t be exempt from suffering or even the possibility of dying for our faith.
Given the times we’re in, Gospel work can be risky work. Our actions and words can create controversy. You can preach a judgmental and vengeful and angry God, and nobody will mind. But you start preaching a God that is too accepting, too loving, too forgiving, too merciful, too kind, and you’re in trouble!”
Our text prepares us for any conflict stirred up by spreading the Gospel. In Matthew 10, Jesus sends out His followers to expand His work. They’re commissioned to preach, heal the sick and confront the structures of evil. He calls them to make a constructive difference wherever they go, and to do so in His name. This is risky work. Heaven knows that it won’t be easy.
Yet Jesus wasn’t afraid. In this brief passage, He says to us, not once but three times, don’t be afraid (fear not)! There’s no reason for us to shrink from doing the work of God even if it turns out badly.
Here’s something we can remember. We may serve the Gospel message, but we ourselves aren’t the message. The good news is greater than us. In fact, if we try to serve Christ and fail, the message will still be successful. The truth about God will be told. The secrets of God will be revealed.
One of the painful missionary stories of the nineteenth century was that of a small-town physician, Marcus Whitman, and his young wife Narcissa. With the best of Christian intentions, they heard the call of God to serve as mission workers in the Oregon territory. Marcus and Narcissa risked their lives crossing the Rocky Mountains. Arriving among the Cayuse (kai-yoos) tribe, they preached and taught the Christian faith, establishing a small church, school and medical clinic. It was demanding work and the churches back home didn’t provide much support.
Hundreds of eastern settlers began to follow the Whitmans westward, bringing the worst of civilization. They killed off buffalo herds that the tribe relied on for their survival. The settlers imported attitudes of superiority, finding infinite ways to belittle the native people, they said were heathens. Worst of all, they brought viruses to which they had no immunity.
In 1847, a measles epidemic devastated the Cayuse community. Dr. Whitman and his wife immunized as many children as they could, white and Cayuse alike. However, the Cayuse children had no immunity to the mild vaccinations. Many of them died. The tribe was suspicious of this east coast medicine and blamed the Whitmans for giving them poison.
On the morning of November 29, Dr. Whitman conducted a funeral for three Cayuse children who had died of measles. He spoke of Jesus, the consolation of the Gospel and the hope of resurrection. The father of the children couldn’t bear what he heard. Later that day, he brought Cayuse warriors into the mission compound, armed with tomahawks and guns. They killed the Whitmans and many of their colleagues, believing their children had died due to “bad medicine” brought to them from the white medicine man.
That tragedy prompted further retaliation from the settlers, including the forced removal of the Cayuse people from their land. An initial act of Christian compassion unraveled due to cultural misunderstanding, distrust and violence. To paraphrase Martin Luther’s hymn, “bodies they did kill.”
And yet, even in those conflicted circumstances, the Gospel was proclaimed in word and deed. As the rest of Luther’s hymn lyric declares, “God’s truth abideth still.” So, what’s the truth?
What’s the message to proclaim from the rooftops? What’s the secret? Simply this: all of us matter to God. Each life has infinite value. No exceptions. Our value comes from the God who created us in the divine image and numbered the hairs on our heads.
Marcus and Narcissa Whitman risked everything to declare God’s love to strangers in a different culture. Were they impatient and unyielding in their approach? Probably, but they were doing the best for Christ as they knew how.
The leader of the Cayuse people mourned his three children. They died from a disease he didn’t understand and a cure that was given too soon. Did their father understand that the Whitmans were trying to save his children, not destroy them? Maybe not. When pushed to extremity, a father’s love for his children provoked righteous anger. We understand that, too.
All of us love imperfectly. We don’t always see the effects of our actions. Our concern for others is inadequate. God knows we’re imperfect saints. Yet the core message of the Gospel continues. God believes all of us are worth loving, saving, rescuing and ultimately healing. There’s a greater power at work in the world than our incomplete expressions of that power. This is the secret that will be revealed. God’s love for each person is complete. Nothing can take that love away.
There’s nothing that the world can do that’s able to eliminate the Gospel or destroy God’s loving and watchful care over the faithful. The world can ban missionary activity and enforce it by throwing those who bear witness to the kingdom in jail, but “nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known” (Matt. 10:26). The world can even kill those who serve the Gospel, but the murderers are not to be ultimately feared. They may have momentary power over bodily life, but they have no power over the soul. Only God has that. Only God is to be feared, and God, who counts the hairs on our heads and who does not fail to note even the falling of a single common sparrow, can be trusted to treasure those who serve the kingdom (Matthew 10:28-31).
Love like that is a mystery, a holy gracious mystery. We bow before the all-powerful God who proclaims a strange dominion that will outlive our human weaknesses. God’s curious kingdom comes with the declaration that all of us are worthy of it. His Good News can’t be hidden. That secret is now revealed for all to hear.
No matter what happens, in life or death, we never need to be afraid. Not now, never. We are God’s people. Nothing can snatch us away from the One who numbers the hairs on our heads. And God will finish what we cannot.