“[Jesus said,] ‘Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.'” – Luke 10:20

Jesus – May I call you Jesus?
“Mister of Nazareth” doesn’t glide from the tongue.
Jesus – yes, Jesus – can I offer some help?
Your marketing skills are frankly first century.

You’ve got seventy people who are all on a high!
What things they accomplished!
What heights they’ve attained!
They may not have seen the fall of a devil,

But then, who has?

Now, Jesus – yes, Jesus – let’s get to brass tacks.
They’re open. They’re glowing. They’re all fired up.
That’s the time when the iron is hot. So strike!
Whatever it is that you’re selling, they’ll buy.

But Jesus – oh, Jesus, may I call you Jesus? –
why throw cold water on bright red-hot steel?
They’d follow you anywhere, until that sad moment
you quenched their enthusiasm at the power they’d found.

C’mon, Jesus, why?

So try it again. This is a disaster,
but you can recover. I know that you can.
Praise them for their power. I tell you, they’ll love it.
And then, O and then, what they’ll buy! What they’ll buy!

Oh, yes. What they’ll buy.

A poem/prayer based on Luke 10:1-11, 16-20, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year C, Proper 9 (14).

The image is “Christ Came into Galilee” by Phillip Vere. From “An illustrated commentary on the Gospel of Mark” by Phillip Medhurst, between 1791 and 1795. FAL, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=34448342. This isn’t an illustration of the return of the Seventy, but I really like the way Jesus’ extended hands seem to be pushing down on the emotional level.