This particular passage from the gospel of Mark will always hold a special place in my heart, in part because of a near-miss I had with my home congregation. Some of you know that I spent my entire youth in rural Illinois, and attended the same local Lutheran congregation for all those years. When I eventually accepted God’s calling to further my education at Seminary and explore whether God was calling me to ordained ministry, I reached out to the current pastor of my home congregation to establish a better relationship with him, as he had begun his ministry around the time I had left for college, and didn’t know him very well. Every now and again, he would invite me to preach at my home church, which I often gladly accepted, but there was one occasion where I wasn’t sure if I was going to be available when he reached out, so I respectfully declined. As fate would have it, I ended up being in my hometown, and visited my home church the weekend I had been asked to preach, and as I listened to the guest preacher who ended up filling in read the words to the gospel I just finished reading to you all, I realized I had dodged a bullet.
I have to be honest – I wonder about this text regularly, and how I would preach it to my home congregation, because one of the challenges of going home is you know their history, and they know a lot of yours, too. Which is why I think it’s appropriate that Jesus’ encounter with his home congregation is then matched with his sending out his disciples to preach to the neighboring communities. Because much like any time I preach, I don’t preach in a vacuum. Any time any of you hears the words that I – or any other person who preaches to you speaks – you are not hearing those words in a vacuum. What you hear, and what you take home, is affected greatly by what you and I bring with us into this holy space where we gather. It’s what happened to Jesus in his hometown, and it’s maybe a part of the reason why Jesus instructs his disciples as he does in the account that follows.
Notice that Jesus tells his disciples to “take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts.” This is in part because Jesus wanted his disciples to be willing to risk the very first welcome they received – to not feel as if they could choose who to share God’s word with because they had options, but it’s also because we’re all very good at judging people based on what we see, aren’t we?
And by good at judging, I mean we often don’t actually find out how good of judges we are, because we don’t get to know the people behind the judgments we’ve made. For instance, if this were your first time attending Esperanza, and the pastor came up in front of you with three different facial piercings, tattoo sleeves, and wearing a beat up pair of jeans, you’d probably look at me a little differently than you are looking at me today. And first century Galileans really weren’t much different. They noticed what you brought with you on a journey, and they would make quick judgments on how to welcome a person based on those facts. So when Jesus sends his disciples out with none of the usual trappings of experienced travelers, Jesus is sending them out so that all the people they encountered wouldn’t see them for their possessions, or even for what they wore. They would see them for the hospitality they needed, and the good news of the gospel that they came to share.
And even then, Jesus knew they wouldn’t necessarily be welcomed by everybody. Jesus could guide his disciples on how to approach a community, but much like in his own home village, Jesus could not control what the community that encountered his disciples would be bringing with them into that encounter. Jesus couldn’t control the suspicion that may have been well earned, or the pride of a town based on a history that was far removed from their present reality. So Jesus also equips his disciples with instructions on what to do when a town refuses to welcome them. By shaking off the dust from their feet, the disciples are able to move forward from those communities without feeling as if they failed. And without the baggage of feeling a failure – without taking on the baggage of that community – they can go forward and more effectively serve in the next town they visit.
It makes me wonder all the more, however, how Jesus approached his home village. Let’s be honest, we all have histories. And our histories sometimes follow us, whether we want them to or not. We have no idea what Jesus’ experience growing up in Nazareth was like. We know that he at least dabbled in his earthly father’s profession, which was common for the time. We know that Jesus is compared to his mother and his brothers. But the man that Jesus is now seems to shock and disturb his former village community. Is it because he stepped out of the pattern he was supposed to follow? Is it because he was actually a really good carpenter, and people are mad that he’s no longer minding the shop? We don’t know. But we know that because they know who Jesus WAS, they have trouble seeing Jesus for who he IS. It seems Jesus tried to do some work there. It seems he made a little headway. But it’s apparent that even Jesus himself can’t change preconceived notions that come with being previously known.
But that doesn’t stop the work of Jesus. The ministry doesn’t end there with that one frustrating encounter. Jesus uses it instead to expand his ministry, giving his disciples a larger share in the mission of God’s kingdom coming to earth. And it’s not a perfect vision. Not everything goes well, I’m certain. But Jesus equips his disciples with the tools and the attitude they need to do amazing things for the sake of the gospel. It makes me wonder – what amazing things can we do when we are able to set aside our baggage? Yes, our past and present realities make us who we are, but it is God who claims and defines us. Through baptism, every day we are given a new life, and new opportunity to live our lives as God’s beloved children. Sometimes we can use our past experiences and present realities to better live into where we are going. But sometimes, it keeps us from seeing with clear eyes what is right in front of us. So when is it one and when is it the other? It’s not easy to tell. But Jesus’ instructions to the disciples tell us something. Because Jesus sent out his disciples equipped with his teachings and the Holy Spirit, but vulnerable. In the same way, we too must be willing to be just a little vulnerable so that God can work in us the good news that our usual personal barriers might keep from letting through.
So let me ask you, people of hope – what is it in your life – what baggage do you carry – that keeps you from opening yourself up to serve others – and be served by them? What path has Christ called you on that you are unable to fully walk because it feels as if your expectations make you think a different path is better? Family of God, I encourage you – learn from one another trust each other. And God will continue to surprise you with where God is working. Because the good news can never be contained. And the God who walks with us along the way in Jesus Christ has and will continue to equip us for service for the sake of the kingdom of God that is still coming into being through our work and our worship.