Perhaps what I love most about the Scriptures is that God didn't make any attempt whatsoever to cover up our inescapable humanity. In this case, Jesus was once again stonewalled in a town, only this time, it was the wrong town, and the right wrong people.
Religious people loved to hate on Samaritans. They were easy targets. Lost. Unredeemed. Degenerate. Loud.
Luke 9:54 gives me incredible hope as a man.
So Jesus gets a cold shoulder in a Samaritan village, and when His men get wind of it, James and John cowboy up.
"Lord, do you want us to call down fire from heaven and destroy them?"
Don't overlook it. James and John wanted to stomp on these people. Not with whips. Not via stoning them. Not a beat down. No ... they genuinely wanted to flip the light switch of the eternal and engulf these freaks with literal fire from Jehovah God. As if God's wrathful fire was something you could just go and get whenever you want it; totally at your disposal. Don't you love their brazen, junior high attitude?
I love it.
It's the apostolic equivalent of "My dad can beat you up. All I gotta do is tell Him."
There's not much difference between you, me, James and John. We are men. Sometimes we get really, really angry, and sometimes, it's for the right reasons. They were protecting Jesus and were defending what they knew to be the man God sent to this perverse generation. They were acting out of what seemed like love for Him in the moment.
The irony is hilarious. They were following a man from Nazareth who was teaching them to love people, and the moment things didn't go their way simply because people were acting ugly, they double down on the ugly meter with sheer desire to kill 'em all.
The reality is this: the hardest truth I continually confront is that lost people are supposed to act like lost people.
I should know. I used to be one.