Sermon at The Church of the Holy Apostles, New York City,
July 16, 2006, The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost: Year B
by The Reverend Elizabeth G. Maxwell

Amos 7:7-15
Psalm 85
Ephesians 1:1-14
Mark 6:7-13

     In the name of God who sends us out with nothing, in order that we may find everything we need, Amen.

     There is a great urgency in the Gospel reading for today.  Mark’s worldview is apocalyptic.  The end of the world is coming.  It will bring the upending of structures of power, a complete reversal and change in the way that things are, the way we have always known them to be – and in that destruction of things as we know them, there will also be the inbreaking of God’s reign.

     It is urgent, also, because there is a great need.  In a parallel passage, Jesus sees that the people are harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd – and so the disciples are sent out into that desperate, harassed and helpless crowd.  You may also remember the context of this reading.  Last week we heard the passage just before this one, and in it Jesus was rejected by his hometown folk.  They dismissed him: “Isn’t this the carpenter, the son of Mary?”  And so, he could not do any great deeds of power in his hometown.

     In the passage that comes just after this one, John the Baptist is arrested, and eventually beheaded, because he has preached against Herod the King’s marriage to his brother’s wife.  And so, part of this urgency is the awareness that danger is a possibility, that rejection may really happen.  But Jesus responds to the setback in his own ministry by sending out the disciples, by enlarging the mission.

     Mark tells us that he sent them out two by two, and gave them power over unclean spirits, and power to preach, and power to heal.  At the Bible study we had quite a discussion of just what these unclean spirits might be.  We acknowledged that in Biblical times there was a kind of a confusion about the origins of many disorders, particularly mental illness, and often these disorders were thought to be the work of unclean spirits.  But I think, perhaps, we are closer to a meaning that is helpful for us if we sense the demonic as alien and life-destroying energies that may seize either individuals or groups, either insidiously or violently.

     Healing, of course, is a vital part of Jesus’ ministry.  The word for healing and the word for salvation are the same in the Greek.  It has the connotation of a deep and broad wholeness, of the restoration of the deep goodness of Creation.  We’re told that Jesus gives the disciples authority – again, an interesting word – for it has to do, not with a kind of a top-down power, but with the power that comes out of being – exousia.

     In Luke’s version of this story, when the disciples return from their mission they are amazed at what they have been able to do – amazed at the healings that have happened, and amazed as they say that “even the demons are subject to us in your Name.”  But one friend of mine, who is not a churchgoer, commented when I was talking to her about this passage that in fact calling people to repent is the most startling of all.  She pointed out that our culture is really opposed to witness, to looking foolish, to being too passionate or committed about anything.

     In any case, the disciples, who so often in Mark don’t get it, are for once here positive role models.  I think it’s because they’re beginners – they’re a little bit like our interns who have been with us for the last few weeks this summer.  They are doing something that they don’t really know how to do.  They’re going forth to do something because they’re called to do it, and not because they necessarily feel prepared enough.  They have been with Jesus; they have experienced his ministry – his preaching, his teaching, his healing, his casting out evil.  They have been changed by what they have experienced, and they can see that the need is urgent.

     So they bring not an idea, not a doctrine, but an experience of salvation and wholeness, which is both word and power.  They go forth to preach, to cast out evil, and to heal.  Now, there’s a real paradox in this mission, for these disciples are sent with authority – with “being”, if you will – but they are not really sent with anything else.  Mark says Jesus ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff – no bag, no money in their belts, but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics.  He said to them: “wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place.  If any place will not welcome you, and they refuse to hear you, as you leave shake the dust that is on your feet off, as a testimony against them.”

     This journey is taken in incredible vulnerability, isn’t it?  They don’t even have a second tunic that would make it easier to sleep out if they need to.  They are called to a radical trust in God, and more subtly, they are called to discover God’s trust in them.  They are called to discover the authority that Jesus has given them, which is not only power, but faithfulness – putting one foot in front of the next, in front of the next.  It is an ability to grow, to respond to the need courageously and compassionately, and yes, even effectively.

     They also have to trust in one another, for they are sent out two by two.  Imagine the relief of having that one companion who can both provide deep comfort in an alien situation and also keep one accountable.  And finally, they must rely, in Tennessee Williams’ wonderful phrase, on the “kindness of strangers.”  They are totally dependent on the hospitality of those among whom they will work.  In fact, they can’t do their work unless they are fed and housed by others.

     In the Bible study, someone commented that perhaps being open to providing food and shelter to these wandering preachers will make those who welcome them more open to their message.  Perhaps in the beginning of welcoming someone in, one is already being changed.  Are the disciples changed also?  The text doesn’t talk about that, but throughout the Biblical record, there is reciprocity – the mysterious interaction of the guest and the host – a marvelous and mysterious exchange which we here at Holy Apostles have discovered fully in our soup kitchen ministry, and which many of us have also found if we have visited other cultures.

     This reciprocity, this interaction, this mutual exchange – is the way in which the reign of God draws near.  Indeed, at the Eucharist that we celebrate, we speak of Christ as both host and guest, and we welcome the Divine mystery into our own lives, even as we are welcomed into the life of Christ and sent forth to carry that life to the world.  The flow, the reciprocity happens at the very deepest level.

     So these disciples are called into the great stretch of being far away from all that is familiar and safe.  They are called to reach down deep inside themselves to find the gift of authority that has been given them, and they are called to reach out to strangers.  There is something about being outside any recognizable comfort zone that is deeply important for the disciples and their mission, and for all of us who come after them.  They don’t get to bring the trappings of security and safety, of ego, with them.  They give their vital gift in vulnerability.  It reminds me of the passage from Paul that we heard last week, in which he says God has told him “My grace is sufficient for you, and my power is made perfect in weakness.”

     The disciples are in touch with divine power;  they find that they carry an incredibly precious gift and message.  But they are also in touch with their very human needs; perhaps this keeps them grounded and helps them understand that the power does not come from them.  And, of course, rejection is a very real possibility.  Not everyone welcomes the disciples, with their message of repentance and their deeds of power.  They are, after all a threat to the world as we know it.

     Jesus’ harsh words about wiping the dust off their feet is, again, I think part of the urgency of their mission.  It is saying: “go where you can actually respond to the need.  The need is so great; don’t get stuck, banging your head against the wall again and again and again.”  There is a reality that you cannot impose the grace of God, any more than Jesus could impose it upon the people who had known him since childhood and so thought they knew all about him.  Maybe another reason for going among strangers is that they don’t have any preconceptions about what we can do.

     This instruction, I think, calls the disciples to be clear, to be decisive, and it gives them permission to try something else when what they’re doing isn’t working.  And indeed the mission is successful.  They went out and proclaimed that all should repent.  They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.

     So, where are we in this story?  Surely we are heirs of those disciples, those holy apostles, and surely we are, like them, beginners in this work.  We are called, by virtue of our baptism, to be part of God’s great work in the world – the work of reconciling the world with God, the announcement of God’s realm drawing near.  And we are never fully prepared, but we are still called because the need is urgent.  Indeed, I don’t know when it has been more so.

     The end of the world as we know it is practically upon us, and not just in a metaphorical or spiritual sense.  We hardly know where to turn, so great is the crisis.  The devastation of the environment, the far-reaching changes brought by global warming, the extinction of species, the suffering of human beings almost unimaginable in some parts of the world - poverty so severe that 15,000 people die every day of diseases that are preventable, and around the globe, violence and hatred and the denial of human rights, exploding.

     We haven’t been able to talk very much, actually, about the Millennium Development Goals, but this is a very positive thing that our recent General Convention did, making a commitment as a church to these eight things:

      §        To eradicate extreme poverty and hunger
      §        To achieve universal primary education
      §        To promote gender equality and empower women
      §        To reduce child mortality
      §        To improve maternal health
      §        To combat HIV and AIDS, malaria, and other preventable diseases
      §        To insure environmental sustainability,
      §        and to develop a partnership for global development

     I hope very much that we at Holy Apostles will make an institutional commitment to join in this effort.

    What is the message to which we are called to bear witness in these urgent times?  I think we must look at our own experience of being with Jesus.  We must look at the love that urges us on.  We must see where our lives have been changed by the love of God, and by the message of the kingdom breaking in.  For many of us, it has to do with our experience here in this community, with our lives of prayer.  For some of us, it has to do with our experience of the natural world or our love for the people closest to us.  Perhaps we have experienced God’s love in the marvelous hospitality and exchange in our soup kitchen, in our encounters one with another, or in music and art.

     However we have been changed by it, the message of the Gospel is the love of God for all and each, and it holds forth a vision of how we can live sustainably with one another, in God and with the Earth.  But we are called to risk letting that love stretch us and make us more courageous, like those disciples, to reach deep down and out wide.

     What are the demons that we need to name?  The alien energies that corrupt and destroy the creatures of God, that diminish and distort life?  Almost every Sunday we pray for an end to racism, sexism and homophobia.  We might pray as well for an end to violence and hatred and genocide – that demonizing of the Other.  More internally, we need to cast out the demons of apathy and fear and despair, and particularly in our culture, of our desperate addiction to consuming, to acquiring more and more and more things.

     What is the healing that we bring?  Today, after the service, we have anointing with oil just as the disciples did.  We might come forward for encouragement and strength and wholeness for our efforts in mission.  There are many signs of healing – the soup kitchen, our efforts with Republican Convention two years ago, our support of Bob Chaloner’s efforts in Swaziland, David Ferguson’s urgent and dedicated work on water, our newly-founded Wake Up, calling us all to a church truly inclusive, truly just, the art and the music that heals us every Sunday.

     If you look at the website for the Millennial Development Goals, it’s inspiring because you see that congregations all over the Church are doing something to bring healing, from Arkansas to Alaska.  It made me cry to think of all that work, and to realize that we at Holy Apostles are not the only ones – not the only ones working to bring justice and peace.

     Like those disciples, we are called to go out – to preach, yes, actually in words sometimes- about our faith, witness to our faith to those we encounter, to cast out demons and to heal the sick.  We are called to an extraordinary commitment in the midst of our ordinary life.  These disciples go to a village; they deal with the people they find there.  They cast out the demons they run up against; they heal the sick who clamor for their attention.

     It’s the same with us, if we take the first step, and then the next and then the next – we will find the work we have to do.  But to do it, I believe we have to be willing to let go of security and to move outside our comfort zone.  It may not be the kind of radical wandering that the disciples are sent to.  For most of us, it won’t be, but we will know it by that sharp intake of breath, by the beating of our heart, by the feeling that we are standing on the edge, and we have to go over.

     We have something to give, and we also have a great need for others, for that reciprocity of host and guest, for the experience and the mission of genuine hospitality, of mutual listening and mutual learning.  We are drawn into this mystery as individuals and as a community.  We are accountable to one another – two by two or more, companioning one another in the work of God. Not the work of the ego, the work of God’s power.

     If we go away with anything this morning, I hope it will be with an awareness that this authority, this call, is ours.  It is in us by virtue of our baptism; the gift is in us, and the need is urgent.  We are to go out in vulnerability, in trust – allowing God to do a new thing even in and through us – to enlist us in that great work which is beyond our imagining.

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