News reports are consistent in showing us what’s happening in the Middle East. Cities torn apart, protesters and bystanders killed by the thousands, and churches bombed and burned. We are grieved for the loss of our brothers and sisters and the persecution they’re facing. This compassion and respect we have for those who give their lives is a biblical response.
In Luke 13, we see how Jesus masterfully connected current events with spiritual truths. He talks about some Galileans (Jews) who were worshiping (making sacrifices) and how Pilate’s men came, killed the worshipers, and “mixed their blood with their sacrifices” (13:1). This is a gruesome picture, and outsiders wondered: What sin had these Jews committed that they deserved such a brutal death? Correcting their thinking, Jesus reminded them that they were all sinners, and all in need of repentence and mercy.
As followers of Christ, we have a clearer understanding of God’s sovereignty amidst the persecution of our fellow believers. We recognize that they didn’t do anything to earn persecution – but God can work great purposes through their suffering.
Jesus references another current even that must have been the “talk of the town.” His analysis of this one, though, might startle us: “Or those eighteen who died when the tower of Siloam fell on them – do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem?” (13:4) We have no indication that these were particularly religious people. Perhaps they were even Gentiles. From Jesus’ statement, it sounds like their Jewish counterparts were convinced it was the sin of the victims that brought on the tower’s judgment. But Jesus was beginning to introduce a new system.
This new system brought an equality in which “there is neither Jew nor Gentile… for [we] are all one in Christ Jesus” (Gal 3:28). Jesus let his followers know: those who perished in the tower accident were no more guilty than anyone else around. “But unless you repent, you too will all perish” (Luke 13:5).
We must be very careful about seeing ourselves as more than we are. If not for God’s grace reaching out to us, we could be on the other side of this battle.
We understand God’s heart for the persecuted believers in the farthest corners of the world. But do we understand His heart for the thousands who are dying on the streets as they fight and protest for their freedom? For those who are blindly running to their deaths as they pursue the only manner they know to ensure their salvation? Or would we, like the Jews in Jesus’ day, prefer to keep the Gospel only for those who are our “friends”?