SERMON Marching Orders

 

Pentecost 6 C (2007) Lectionary 14: Isaiah 66:10-14; Psalm 66:1-9; Galatians 6:1-16; Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

 

This morning's gospel can be anxiety-producing. Let me explain.

Last week Jesus told his would-be followers to leave the dead to bury the dead and not to look back. And today we hear about Jesus sending out seventy of those followers in pairs -- not just the chosen twelve as in Matthew's and Mark's gospels, but ordinary, regular followers. Sending them out with explicit marching orders telling them how they are to pre­cede him into possibly hostile towns. They will be, he tells them, like "lambs in the midst of wolves."

And for me these two things -- the high cost of discipleship and this commissioning of the seventy regular, ordinary folks -- became permanently assoc­iated and anxiety producing when I was a fresh­man in college. I was dating a junior at a nearby men's college. One of his roommates, John, was also a junior, from Salt Lake City. He and my friend were both in the same singing group and were con­sider­ed likely candidates to be tapped for the most prestigious of the college's singing groups -- a group composed only of seniors whose standard was a song the chorus of which begins "We are poor little lambs who have lost their way . . . "

And one Tuesday night at the end of April it happened -- they were both tapped for the senior singing group. The follow­ing week­end we all celebrated. Then late into the Saturday night of that weekend, John matter of factly told us that he had heard from his Mormon Church and that he would be taking the next year off and, with another Mormon college student, would be spending the year as a missionary in England.

We were dumbfounded. We knew, of course, that John was a Mormon. But this? "How," we thought, "can he do this?" What sacrifice! But even beyond that, going to Eng­land to tell them about Joseph Smith and all the rest -- going to England to make con­verts! While there was respect for John's commitment, there was nothing but dis­be­­lief that someone we knew and liked would do such a thing. It was all so alien. And I re­mem­ber thinking and knowing that if my church asked me to such a thing, I would run in the opposite direction. There was no way I could ever do what John was about to do!

Yet this morning we hear Jesus himself sending out seventy ordinary, regular followers in pairs to proclaim the kingdom of God. And that is not only something that happened then and happens now with Mormons. It is also some­thing that happens with frequency when Jehovah's Witnesses come to our doors -- in pairs -- to proclaim God's kingdom. It's not really so alien after all. Jehovah's Wit­ness­es take Jesus' commis­sion seri­ously. Which is why it is all so anxiety pro­ducing, isn't it? We don't, and they do. Even worse, I am sure that they consider us to be the wolves Jesus warns of if we reject them -- however politely we may do that.

So how do we deal with what Jesus does this morning? To begin, what Jesus does is give the seventy a dozen mission orders (two appear twice).

 Jesus orders:

Travel in pairs

•                   Go ahead to strange places where I am going

•                   Take no purse (that is, take no money)

•                   Don't carry a change of clothes

•                   Don't wear sandals

•                   Don't greet anyone one the road

•                   Extend the greeting of peace to each house

•                   Stay in one house and don't look for better quarters (that appears twice)

•                   Eat and drink what is put before you (that also appears twice)

•                   Cure the sick

•                   Announce God's kingdom

•                   Wipe the dust from your feet in those places that re­ject you.

So what do we do with these orders?

Well, one solution to decrease the anxiety might be to look at them with first century eyes.

Some can be understood as safety measures. In the Pales­tine of the first century, any journey away from one's family involved danger. This was particularly true (as was likely the case here) for Jews traveling in Samaria. The pairing of the disciples and Jesus' admoni­tion to travel light -- not to carry a purse or knapsack, not to wear sandals -- are practical and well-advise­d safety precautions -- as is the order not to greet anyone on the road.

The "wolves" Jesus speaks of are not just politely rejecting 21st century skeptics like us, but thieves and murderers. Fifty years later when Luke writes his gospel, the "wolves" are also those persecuting Christians.

The orders about going to the homes of strangers and asking for room and board must also be seen in the light of their social setting. In the 21st century in the United States, we do not extend such hospitality to strangers. By contrast, in first century Pales­tine and throughout the Mediterranean, hospitality was some­thing that was extended only to strangers (stead­fast love and loving kindness were reserved for and extended to relatives or near relatives).


As wayfarers in strange towns, the disciples were depen­dent on the hospitality of strangers. They could, however, depend on that hospitality.

So at least half of Jesus' orders about the how the mission of the seventy is to be undertaken can be minimize, even ignored, on social grounds. No need to worry about traveling light in pairs or being rude by demanding room and board of strangers.

Still other orders can also be minimized on religious grounds. The order, for example, that the disciples "eat what is set before you" reflects the com­mitment of Luke's community of faith to include gentiles in God's promise and kingdom. Look at us: Mission accomp­lished. Another such order is Jesus' order that, if the disciples enter a town where they are not welcome, they should go to the streets and publicly wipe off the dirt that clings to their feet. Embedded in this order is the first century Jewish prac­tice of wiping off the impurity of the dust of pagan soil from one's feet when returning to Pales­tine. An interesting bit of disas­soci­ation that would have no meaning if carried out today.

The order that the seventy go to strange towns that Jesus was planning to visit can be historically isolated and restricted to Jesus' actual teaching. Or, if stretch­ed, it can be extended to the world of Luke's late first century church. But not to us.

So, in the end, the anxiety is lifted. Religiously speak­ing, we live in a non-hostile world where the answer to safety issues may or may not be the same. We need not worry about our church someday sending us to another city or country to knock on doors and ask for room and board. It will not happen. We need not be concerned about this first century bit of proselytizing.

But is all that true? Is the anxiety lifted? Are we really off the hook? I don't think so.

Look at the marching orders that are left. There are three: extend the greeting of peace, cure the sick, and proclaim God's kingdom. And looking at the three there is really only one. And that one is "Proclaim the kingdom of God."

The "peace" to be extended is shalom — the whole­ness and inclusiveness that Paul has in mind when he writes of the new creation in Christ Jesus that includes Jew and gentile. "For those that follow this rule," he tells the Galatians -- peace [that is, shalom] upon them, and mercy, upon the Israel of God."

Jesus' order to cure the sick is part of the whole­ness and oneness of shalom. Both it and shalom are part of what the kingdom of God is all about. And both are actions. They are done by doing.

And the kingdom of God -- the in-breaking of the kingdom of God -- is what we -- what you and I -- know about. Here. In this place. In this community. And sud­den­ly, seen in that light, the other orders — the orders that we would so easily dismiss as being anxiety producing -- take on a new dimension. Far from being anxiety producing, they become liberating.


The safety precautions are not so much a matter of safety as they are of efficiency. Don't get bogged down in filing incident reports, Jesus says. Jesus' order to go in pairs is not so much to prevent muggings as it is to insure the efficient presence of a witness at all times. The approach to housing and the wiping of the dust of rejecting towns reflect urgency, not rudeness or outdated custom. If the peace you offer is not returned in a household, Jesus directs: move on. If your mes­sage is rejected, move on. If, on the other hand, the peace is returned and you are invited to stay, don't waste time and effort by trying to stay in another house. Get about your business. Get about the busi­ness of proclaiming God's kingdom. And move on. Don't worry if it doesn't take. That's not your problem. Don't look back.

And those are marching orders for us. Get busy. Be efficient. Don't worry if you don't succeed. Move on. It is not anxiety producing because it comes from what we know and experi­ence here through God's grace in Word and Sacrament. It is not anxiety producing because -- just like the seventy this morning -- we have been empowered to proclaim and implement the peace and the healing that is the kingdom of God for all people. It is not anxiety producing because we are responsible only for conveying and implementing that message, not for the final count and yield.

If there is any doubt that implementation of Jesus' mission orders was liberating and empowering for the seventy, we need only to recall how their journey ends. "The seventy," we hear," returned with joy." The seven­ty had preached with authority and effect. They may have felt at times as if they were lambs among the wolves, but they were never, ever "poor little lambs who [had] lost their way." And therein -- both for them and for us -- lies the difference. Thanks be to God.

Amen.

 

July 8, 2007

 

Ruth VanDemark, pastor

Wicker Park Lutheran Church