Line Upon LineLine Upon Line
Luke 13

Undeterred | Sunday, November 1, 2026

November 1, 2026 · Pastor Miles DeBenedictis

In this teaching

Teaching from Luke 13:31-35, where Pharisees warn Jesus that Herod wants to kill him, and Jesus responds undeterred because he knew his identity, purpose, and destiny. Pastor Miles applies this to how a settled, anchored Christian responds to the constant threats of a broken world by remembering that our ultimate citizenship is in heaven.

  • As Christians our ultimate citizenship and allegiance belong to the King and his kingdom, which should shape even how we vote.
  • The settled servant isn't fearless by temperament but anchored—moored to the hope that reaches behind the veil into eternity.
  • Jesus remained undeterred because he knew who he was (identity), why he had come (purpose), and where he was going (destiny).
  • When we know whose we are, threats—whether political, from a broken world, disease, or age—lose their grip.
  • Jesus' courage was love that would not flee; he pressed toward the cross out of love for those he came to redeem.
  • "To die is gain" means the worst any threat can do is send us home, and peace in the storm is powerfully evangelistic.

Readable is a lightly edited reading copy; Verbatim stays close to the spoken words. The audio and video are the record of what was said.

On that very same day, some of the Pharisees came, saying to him, "Get out and depart from here, for Herod wants to kill you." And he said to them, "Go tell that fox, 'Behold, I cast out demons and perform cures today and tomorrow, and the third day I shall be perfected.' Nevertheless I must journey today, tomorrow, and the day following; for it cannot be that a prophet should perish outside of Jerusalem. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the one who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, but you were not willing! See! Your house is left to you desolate; and assuredly, I say to you, you shall not see Me until the time comes when you say, 'Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!'" ()

When a political action committee warned Jesus that the ruler wanted him dead, he swiped left and kept walking—because he knew who he was, why he had come, and where he was going.

Constant Notifications and a Higher Citizenship

There is a lot going on in the world, and because of the time we live in, we are constantly notified about all of it. The buzzing of our devices keeps us aware of every news event all day, every day, until it becomes something like noise and constant drone. I find myself swiping away notifications as they come—especially these last few weeks of political text messages. How on earth did they get my phone number? Forty-seven of them by ten in the morning, each one a dire warning about how this politician or this measure will destroy your life.

The hard part is that these things really are important, not trivial. I believe we should use our right as citizens to fulfill our civic duty this Tuesday. But if you consider yourself a Christian, it is helpful at this time of year to remind ourselves of something: my ultimate citizenship and allegiance are to the King and his kingdom. As Paul says, we are citizens of heaven.

Ambassadors of Another Kingdom

I am grateful for my citizenship. Growing up we pledged allegiance every morning. When I lived in Germany, a friend there—post-war Germany has an almost allergic reaction to nationalism—simply could not understand how we did that daily. Yet we need to be reminded that if you are a Christian, you are a citizen of another kingdom, an ambassador of another King.

There has been much discussion about Christian nationalism, and I have real reservations about what some pastors are promoting under that banner; some of it is just crazy. But even to say that we hold a citizenship in another kingdom would shock the New York Times. For a Christian it is basic truth. So when you step into the polling booth or fill out your ballot, use as your guide the wisdom of God, the priorities of his kingdom, and the leading of the Holy Spirit. Vote in accordance with the values of the King. And if you don't know what that means, that means you need to get into the Scriptures and learn their principles consistently.

A Republic, If You Can Keep It

One of the most memorable speeches of the last few hundred years was Lincoln's at Gettysburg in 1863: "that government of the people, by the people, and for the people shall not perish from the earth." In a sense, when you vote you declare that. And it perishes if you give up on it. There are people today practicing what the culture calls "black pilling"—"I live in California, it doesn't make any difference." That nihilistic despair erodes things over time.

When the Constitution was ratified in Philadelphia, Benjamin Franklin was asked by a well-known woman, "Dr. Franklin, what have you given us, a monarchy or a republic?" He answered, "A republic, if you can keep it." We need the conviction that it is the values of the King of Kings and the Scriptures that ultimately promote freedom. All the freedom our country esteems came from the teachings of Scripture. Read the founders—their source material was often books like Deuteronomy, rarely read anymore. These things did not arise out of nothing.

A Political Threat Comes to Jesus

We are bombarded with political text messages, and we're tempted to swipe left and delete. But did you know that 2,000 years ago Jesus received a dire political warning from a political action committee of his day? says, "Some of the Pharisees came, saying to him, 'Get out and depart from here, for Herod wants to kill you.'" That is a political text message. And how did Jesus respond? In a sense, he swiped left and deleted.

For many weeks we've been in Luke's Gospel, where Jesus set his face to go to Jerusalem (). That is a callback to Isaiah's servant of the Lord: "I have set my face like flint, and I know that I will not be ashamed" (). Ezekiel pictures the same steadfast image. Jesus is determined, and he knows what awaits him. On the Mount of Transfiguration, Moses and Elijah spoke with him of his decease that he would accomplish at Jerusalem. He knows exactly where he is going.

What Does a Settled Person Do?

Now, journeying toward Jerusalem (), a message comes to him from, of all people, the Pharisees. Their motives may not have been pure—Galilee was mostly outside their jurisdiction, so sending Jesus back to Judea meant more power over him—but what they said was true: Herod was out to kill him. So how does a settled person respond when such a threat comes?

We are privileged to live in an abnormal society. Study human history and you'll see that freedom of religion, speech, and the press are rare. The first of the five rights in the First Amendment is freedom of religion. Because of that privilege, very infrequently is the threat to your life actually political. More often the threat is the chaos of a broken world—a terminal diagnosis, an accident, the violence of a wicked person. And here is one all of us live under: the persistent passing of time, the wearing away of age. Our lives are under threat every day. So how does a settled person stay settled rather than shaken?

Anchored, Not Fearless by Temperament

Christ remained settled for at least three reasons: he knew who he was, why he had come, and where he was going—identity, purpose, destiny. Our culture is confused on all three, largely because for 150 years it has told us we are the product of random chance and mutation. If that's true, who are you, why are you here, and where are you going? But in the Scriptures you find a coherent answer, and you are far more settled in the storm when you can answer those three questions.

Over recent months I've been interviewed often about AI, and almost always the first question is, "Should we be afraid of AI?" My immediate thought is Paul's words: "God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind" (). No, I'm not afraid, because I have an understanding of what God is doing in the world, and my hope is not ultimately in this place.

So the first point is this: the settled servant isn't fearless by temperament—they are anchored. It isn't a strong constitution; it's an anchor. Paul wrote that verse in his last letter, from prison, facing execution: "I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure is at hand" (). He didn't give in to fear because he was moored to something. tells us what: "This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which enters the Presence behind the veil"—that is, eternity with the Lord. You don't have to be brave. You just have to be anchored to the One who is sure and steadfast.

Go Tell That Fox

A group of politically motivated men told Jesus, "You need to get out of here. Herod wants to kill you." They weren't lying. Herod ruled Galilee, and he had already shown he would kill to protect his image—he beheaded John the Baptist for speaking against his immorality. How would you respond? Even great saints have run. Martin Luther hid for a time—though he hid so he could finish translating the German Bible.

But Jesus continues on the road, because he has set himself to go to Jerusalem and nothing will deter him. His response is spectacular: "Go tell that fox." William Barclay notes the fox in ancient Israel symbolized a sly animal, a destructive animal, and—more importantly—worthlessness and insignificance. When Jesus says "that fox," he is putting this powerful man in proper perspective. We lose perspective so quickly, and we are easily tempted to fear positions of power and the persons who hold it.

Power in Proper Perspective

Jesus did the same with Pilate: "You could have no power at all against Me unless it had been given you from above... no one takes My life from Me; I lay it down" (; ). Isaiah pictured the king of Babylon, who held the whole world, finally seen in judgment as the people say, "Is this the man who made the earth tremble?"—he's nothing. Like the Chihuahua that thinks it's a Great Dane, yipping behind a four-foot fence as I ran past, certain in its little brain that it was the reason I "ran away."

asks what God does when the nations rage: "He who sits in the heavens shall laugh; the Lord shall hold them in derision." Think of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Threatened with the fiery furnace if they would not bow to Nebuchadnezzar's image, they answered: "Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us... But if not, let it be known to you, O king, that we do not serve your gods" (). God can deliver us—but even if he doesn't, we still will not do what you command. What can you do with people like that? Their trust was not in their own strength but in God.

Point One: Know Whose You Are

So if you are going to be settled in the storm, you must know your identity in Christ. "For our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ" (). I am grateful for the country I call home and the passport I hold—having traveled the world, I'm glad to land back at customs. But my ultimate citizenship, hope, and allegiance are not in Washington or my passport. They are in the King of Kings, "of the increase of His government and peace there will be no end" (). Nations come and go; the kingdom of our Lord will have no end.

Notice the tense: your citizenship is in heaven, right now, even though you're not there yet. That means you are on assignment, an ambassador. So when you vote on Tuesday, vote with that mindset. And whatever threat you face—political, the chaos of a broken world, disease, or old age—here is point two: when I know whose I am, a fox's threat loses its grip.

"Nevertheless I Must Journey"

Jesus answers, "I cast out demons and perform cures today and tomorrow, and the third day I shall be perfected." Herod's message was "leave or die." Jesus' message was "I have work to do, and I will complete it." Then that beautiful word: "Nevertheless I must journey today, tomorrow, and the day following." That is determined, undeterred perseverance. And he adds, "It cannot be that a prophet should perish outside of Jerusalem." Standing in Herod's jurisdiction of Galilee, Jesus knows he is completely safe there—his demise will be in Jerusalem, in God's time, and no one takes his life from him.

These threats against the servant of the Lord are not new. Nehemiah, commissioned to rebuild Jerusalem's walls, faced politicians who tried first to distract and then to kill him. He answered, "I am doing a great work, so that I cannot come down. Why should the work cease while I leave it?" (). The same word came to Paul in Acts: in every city, believers warned him that chains awaited him in Jerusalem. Their prediction was true, but their interpretation was wrong. "No," he said, "God has told me to go."

Point Two and Three: Know Your Assignment

Well-meaning, God-loving people can give us bad counsel precisely because they love us and fear what might hurt us. Not to pick on my mom, who's sitting right there—in my early twenties much of her counsel was anxious counsel, not because she was ill-natured but because she wanted to protect me. That was the counsel given to Paul. He still said, "God has called me to this."

So the settled person knows who they are and, number two, knows why they are here—their purpose, their "must." Point three: when I know my assignment, I can't be talked off the wall. Nehemiah knew his assignment. Jesus knew his task. Neither would be talked down.

The Love That Will Not Flee

Then Jesus pivots to the city itself: "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem... How often I wanted to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, but you were not willing!" This is the heart of God for his people: I was willing to gather you, but you were not willing.

Here we touch the long-standing tension in the Protestant church between God's sovereignty and man's responsibility. Both are inseparably linked in Scripture. : "Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you both to will and to do for His good pleasure." Who is working—God or you? Yes. And here is the awesome power of the sovereign God: his power is not in forcing, but in being so powerful that he can allow you to say "I will not" and still maintain his power. "How often I wanted to gather you... but you were not willing."

What drives Jesus here is passion—the love of Christ. Point four: his courage is love that won't flee. He is not pressed on by self-love but by love for those he seeks to redeem.

Desolation and a Day of Blessing

Beyond that, he sees what awaits the city: "See! Your house is left to you desolate." He predicts the coming judgment—the Roman armies under Titus destroying Jerusalem in 70 AD—their desolation and dispersion. Then: "You shall not see Me until the time comes when you say, 'Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!'"

This has a dual fulfillment. The pilgrims sang those very words from on Palm Sunday as Jesus entered Jerusalem—and days later cried, "Crucify Him!" The future fulfillment comes at his second coming, when, as Zechariah prophesies, the descendants of Abraham will look on him whom they pierced and say, "Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord."

Point Five: Know Where You Are Going

Third, Jesus was settled because he knew where he was going. He was going to Jerusalem, but he was going through Jerusalem. The cross on Calvary was not the end of the story, because three days later he rose, ascended, and one day will return.

Paul knew where he was going too, facing execution: "For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain" (). Who outside of Christ could say that? We do everything possible to preserve our lives. This is why in 2020 so many were devastatingly fearful—if your only hope is this world and a pandemic might take your life, you are tossed to and fro. But for the Christian, what's the worst a pandemic or a hateful politician can do? Take my life—and that only ushers me into the Lord's presence faster. That person has more power than Nero. Point five: when I know where I'm going, even death can't scare me off the road.

Run With Endurance

We are "surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses"—Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego, Nehemiah, Paul. But our greatest example is Christ. So "let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God" (). No threat could deter him—not Herod, not Jerusalem's refusal, not the cross—because he knew who he was, what he was doing, and where he was going. He wants us to live with the same determination: "Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."

I can think of few things more evangelistic than peace in the midst of the storm. When your coworker or neighbor who does not know God watches you walk with steadfastness and rest through whatever storm comes, they say, "I want that." But when we get spun up and freaked out by doom-scrolling—panicking about this bill or that politician just like the world around us—we are living as practical atheists. With our lips we say we trust the King of Kings; with our lives we say we're not really sure that's true. Oh God, help us to walk with trust in you, the sure and steadfast One.

Closing Prayer

God, we consider you who endured such hostility against yourself, so that we do not become weary and discouraged in our souls. It is so easy to become weary and discouraged, especially as we look at the things in Washington, in Sacramento, in our own city. We can be so spun up and fearful about all the news happening around the world. But Lord, you sit enthroned in heaven, and you have a timetable and a plan, and you will make good on it. Of the increase of your government and peace there shall be no end; you will establish your kingdom from this time forth and forevermore. I pray that today and this week you would remind me and my brothers and sisters that we serve the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, the Maker of heaven and earth, all things seen and unseen, and there is nothing that moves you. God, help us to know and rejoice in that truth. We ask it in Jesus' name. And all those in agreement said, Amen.

Scripture in this teaching

17

Passages opened in this message

Related teachings

12

Other messages that open the same passages