“And if the house is worthy, let your peace come upon it, but if it is not worthy, let your peace return to you. And if anyone will not receive you or listen to your words, shake off the dust from your feet when you leave that house or town.” ~ Matthew 10:13-14
I’ll admit it. I always felt like I was missing something in these verses above. Something about that subjunctive phrase–the same structure used for God calling the universe into being, that let there be…–made me scratch my head. Or more accurately, made me wonder at the nature of peace, if it’s something that can go out from us to settle on a place but then can return to us.
Return to us, that is, in very specific situations–when people refuse to hear the Good News. When people won’t listen.
I understand, of course, that the shaking off of the dust is a testimony against those people (hence verse 15, which says it’ll be better for Sodom and Gomorrah than for that place in the last days–harsh judgment here!), but I still found it curious that it was linked to peace.
It’s something that hovers in the back of my mind whenever we’re talking about or studying peace. And in the current political climate (okay, in any political climate), there are certainly people shaking things at other people all over the place. Fingers, heads, and probably that metaphorical dust too.
You know what I’m not seeing a lot of? Peace. I don’t see it resting upon many houses, and I don’t see it returning to people either.
Something else continued to nag at me too. Was Jesus really telling us to give up on those people forever? He, who hung on the cross and forgave those who put them there? I can’t think so. Because a person or family or town who doesn’t hear the Gospel in one moment has historically had their “come to Jesus” moment later. Someone else went back to that person or house or town, and the result was different. As Paul points out, sometimes the seeds one person plants need to be watered by a second, tended by a third, and see the harvest with a fourth.
Why, then, does Jesus give this instruction?
I don’t think it’s just about those people who aren’t listening. I think He told us this for the sake of our hearts. Our minds. Our souls.
Because He knows us–He knows we worry. We fret. We obsess. We feel guilty. We take on ourselves what isn’t ours to carry. Jesus is telling the disciples He’s sending out, “Don’t take it personally. Be impartial. When people don’t hear you, don’t let it upset you. Let your peace return to you and move on.”
That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t pray for people. It doesn’t mean they’re a lost cause.
It means we’ve done OUR part right NOW. It means we need to hand judgment over to Him and take a step back. We need to relinquish control. We need to trust Him. Cling to hope. Let go of what we wanted to see happen.
Be at peace. It’s not just a command. Jesus isn’t telling us DO THIS. That subjunctive is way more subtle. It’s an invitation that carries authority. The same Voice that said, “Let there be light” is saying “Let your peace return to you.”
What are we clinging to in concern that we need to let go of?
What contention are we holding that’s keeping our hearts from being at peace?
What effort do we need to step away from so that He can come in and do His work, or so that someone else can have their shot?
What house do we need to leave so that our peace can return to us?
Roseanna M. White is a bestselling, Christy Award winning author who has long claimed that words are the air she breathes. When not writing fiction, she’s homeschooling her two kids, editing, designing book covers, and pretending her house will clean itself. Roseanna is the author of a slew of historical novels that span several continents and thousands of years. Spies and war and mayhem always seem to find their way into her books…to offset her real life, which is blessedly ordinary. 
