WWJD - The WDNC Edition (Luke 9:51-62)

Today’s sermon begins with unpainted toenails, chin hair, the task of separating laundry by darks, lights and colors, and dress codes. What do women in perimenopause and menopause have to say about these things? We do not care. That is the message being spread by Melani Sanders, a 45-year-old mother of three and social media influencer in West Palm Beach, FL. She has gained a huge following for celebrating women of a certain age who have stopped trying to please everyone. A million women around the world have responded to her call to share what they no longer care about, becoming members of her “We Do Not Care” Club. In delightful, now viral videos, Sanders reads the submissions. She looks at the camera from behind her reading glasses (with another pair on top of her head and one on the collar of her shirt, too) and  then deadpans: “We do not care about arm fat. It’s not our fault our muscles grow down and not up.” She then looks down at her notebook, checking off each announcement with a highlighter before reading the next one. “We do not care if our face is using its outside voice. What our face says is out of our control.” “We do not care if we don’t show up for the family cookout. Most of y’all have undiagnosed trauma that we honestly just don’t want to deal with right now.” (Chloe Shakin, NYT, June 24, 2025). The videos are funny and refreshing. And they are helping those of us of a certain age feel some solidarity in this chapter of life.

Of course, the message of the We Do Not Care Club has implications for everyone, not just a particular age or gender demographic. It points to one of the beautiful things about aging overall. With each passing year, if we’re paying attention and doing our emotional homework, we learn to care less about the things that don’t really matter and more about the ones that do. Sometimes this comes through a mid-life crisis, but no matter how we grow, we gain a newfound realism and urgency. The future is no longer infinite, but it is still out there. The options have narrowed, but there are still choices to be made, and it becomes important to make every choice count. It’s a time to focus, to consolidate strengths and cut losses, and to determine priorities (Arthur Holder, “The GTU at 40: Will Maturity Make Us Wise?” 2002). The kind of wisdom that comes with age, from letting go to embracing what matters most, is actually not unique to the aging process. It is also at the heart of the spiritual path.

In the ninth chapter of Luke, Jesus was only 33. He wasn’t old enough for the We Do Not Care Club, but he gave his disciples a master class in wisdom all the same. To set the scene, they were traveling through Samaria, which Jews normally wouldn’t do. They usually took the long road around the region so as not to enter it. Animosity between Jews and Samaritans was common. The two groups worshiped the same God, but had two different temples. They had just enough in common to exacerbate their differences, not unlike the animosity between our political parties today. Jesus knew this, and decided to take the shorter route through Samaria anyway (Bibleworm, Episode 629).

When he and his disciples entered a Samaritan village, Luke tells us that the villagers “did not receive him, because his face was set toward Jerusalem. When his disciples James and John saw it, they said, ‘Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?’” It sounds like an absurd question to us. But we have to assume that the disciples thought of it as a genuine and appropriate option. Maybe they were intrigued by their new powers next to Jesus, or maybe they were just caught up in a system of offense and retribution. Either way, Jesus rebuked them for the question and moved on. In an instant, he showed them that he did not care about that system, and nor should they. There’s certainly wisdom in that for us, since our world revolves around offense and retribution every day.

That would be enough for one sermon, but then Jesus took his teaching to the next level. On the road, he encountered three people who wanted to follow him. He warned one that there wouldn't be a home base - the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head. When another asked him for time to go bury his father, Jesus told him to let the dead bury the dead. And to the one who wanted to say goodbye to his family, Jesus said, "No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” The meaning of these cryptic responses is not immediately clear. But I don’t think they mean that Jesus was anti-home or funeral or family.

Jesus had set his face toward Jerusalem, which is the interpretive key we need. Jesus was headed into the heart of an empire that wanted to destroy him. His clash with the authorities in Jerusalem was fast approaching, which came with clarity and urgency. He didn’t have time to care about skirmishes with the Samaritans, or the needs of daily life for those who wanted to follow him. The violence of the cross was right in front of him, to which his answer would be, not retaliation, but kenosis, or the self-emptying, sacrificial love of God. The perspective from the cross has the power to change how we see everything in life and what we prioritize, putting love at the center.

If Jesus were a member of the We Do Not Care Club, I feel certain that he would submit announcements based on today’s Gospel. The first one would be: “We do not care if you are provoked by Samaritans (or, fill in the blank). You need to let that go, instead of commanding fire to come down from heaven to consume them.” After that one got crossed out with a highlighter, there would be a second announcement. “We do not care if you got distracted. It’s time to let go of some things and embrace what matters most.”

Kate Alexander