The Seventy

Open with me to Luke chapter ten, verse one.

"After these things the Lord appointed other seventy also, and sent them two and two before his face into every city and place, whither he himself would come." — Luke 10:1 (KJV)

I want you to count.

Seventy.

(Your Bible may say seventy-two. The manuscripts split on this and either number is well-attested. KJV reads seventy. That is what we work with.)

Not the twelve. The twelve had already been sent out two chapters back. This is a different group. Bigger. Less famous. Seventy people, no names recorded, sent out two by two, into every town Jesus was planning to visit.

You are looking at the original ordinary believer.

These are not apostles. These are not preachers. These are not the people who built the early church and got the buildings named after them. These are the followers. The regular ones. The people who heard him teach on a hillside one Tuesday and never quite went home. The shopkeepers. The fishermen who were not on the boat with the twelve. The women who funded the ministry. The new converts. The Lord chose seventy of them and said, you are going ahead of me into the towns where I am about to show up.

That is you.

You are one of the seventy.

I want to tell you what the Lord told them to bring. Listen close. Because what is on the list is short, and what is not on the list is everything you usually think you need.

"Go your ways: behold, I send you forth as lambs among wolves. Carry neither purse, nor scrip, nor shoes: and salute no man by the way." — Luke 10:3-4 (KJV)

No money. No extra bag. No extra sandals. And do not stop to chit-chat with everybody on the road.

Why?

There are two ways the commentators read this. One says it is about trust in the Lord's provision and the urgency of the kingdom. Drop the supplies and run. The other says it is about engineering the seventy into relationship with the people they are sent to. You cannot stay distant from the person whose roof you sleep under. Both are true. The Lord is doing both. But I want to sit on the second one this morning, because I think you and I miss it more often.

Dependency on hospitality is dependency on relationship. If you have your own money, you can keep your distance. If you have your own bag, you do not need anybody else's table. If you have your own shoes, you do not need anybody else's roof. The kingdom shows up where need shows up.

And the chit-chat thing matters too. Elaborate greetings on the road could go on a long time in that culture. This is not a new instruction from Jesus, either. Elisha gave Gehazi the same charge centuries earlier when he sent him on an urgent errand to a grieving mother.

"Gird up thy loins, and take my staff in thine hand, and go thy way: if thou meet any man, salute him not; and if any salute thee, answer him not again..." — 2 Kings 4:29 (KJV)

The Lord is not telling the seventy to be rude. He is telling them what Elisha told Gehazi. Stay focused. The work is at the door of the house. The work is not in the small talk on the road.

Now listen to what they are told to say at the door.

"And into whatsoever house ye enter, first say, Peace be to this house. And if the son of peace be there, your peace shall rest upon it: if not, it shall turn to you again." — Luke 10:5-6 (KJV)

The first word out of their mouths is peace.

Not the gospel. Not a sermon. Not an altar call. Peace.

And then they wait to see what comes back. If a son of peace is in that house, the peace stays. The relationship deepens. The kingdom shows up. If a son of peace is not in that house, the peace comes back to them. They wipe off the dust and they walk on.

They do not carry the rejection home with them.

That is the rhythm. Bring peace. See what answers. Stay where peace stays. Move on where it does not.

I want to talk to you about what your "houses" are this week.

Because the Lord is sending you, right now, into the towns he is planning to enter. The towns he is planning to enter are the rooms of your life.

Your shift at work, where the lunchroom has gotten tense and everybody is avoiding the issue.

Your block, where you have lived for eight years and still do not know your neighbors' middle names.

Your family group chat, where the last political thing turned into a thing.

The in-laws' Sunday dinner, where you have been dreading the conversation about money for three months.

The youth team you coach, where one of the kids has been quieter than usual.

The pew you sit in at church, where the woman three seats down lost her husband last fall and you have not said one word to her since the funeral.

Those are houses.

The Lord is sending you to those houses this week, ahead of him, with one thing in your hand. Peace.

Not a fix. Not a correction. Not an agenda. Not the speech you have been rehearsing in the shower. Peace. The first word out of your mouth.

If peace is received, the kingdom shows up. Stay. Listen. Eat what is set before you. Do not impose your preferences. Let the host be the host. The kingdom guest does not push his agenda.

If peace is rejected, you wipe off the dust. You do not bring the rejection home and feed it for three days. You do not stew. You do not draft the long text message in your head. You just turn around. The seventy are sent. The Lord does not need that house to receive him today. He may come back for them another day. Your job was the offer.

Here is the hard turn. And I am going to look you in the eye for this one.

You have been carrying the dust.

You have been bringing rejection home and feeding it. You have been carrying the small slights and the unmet expectations and the family member who did not text back. You have been turning them over in your head before bed. You have been letting them ferment.

The seventy did not do that. The seventy were free to move because they were not carrying yesterday's house with them.

Now hear me. When the seventy wiped dust from their feet, it was a prophetic act against a town that had said no to the kingdom. That is what the scripture is doing in Luke ten. I am not collapsing that gesture into our small grievances. I am taking the picture and asking what it teaches us about how we carry rejection.

Wipe it off.

You can wipe off yesterday's house tonight. You can wipe off the brother who did not call. You can wipe off the coworker who did not include you. You can wipe off the friend who has gone cold. Not because they did not matter. Because you cannot show up at tomorrow's house with peace in your hand if you are still holding yesterday's house in the other one.

"The harvest truly is great, but the labourers are few: pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he would send forth labourers into his harvest." — Luke 10:2 (KJV)

He prayed that prayer. And then he sent the seventy.

You are an answer to his prayer. Show up at the door this week. Open with peace. See what answers.

Amen.