Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Sermon on Luke 9:1-6



Luke 9:1-6
Then Jesus called the twelve together and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, 2 and he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal. 3 He said to them, ‘Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money—not even an extra tunic. 4 Whatever house you enter, stay there, and leave from there. 5 Wherever they do not welcome you, as you are leaving that town shake the dust off your feet as a testimony against them.’ 6 They departed and went through the villages, bringing the good news and curing diseases everywhere.


For the first time in Luke's Gospel, Jesus finally calls upon his disciples to do something. Up until now they have been primarily observers and hearers. He has taught a hundred crowds in their hearing, imbedded in their minds his message and methods day after day, week after week, month after month until they know them by heart. Now it is time to send them out to learn how to minister.
His instructions seem quite simple, if a little hard in practice – live off the hospitality of your neighbours, stay wherever you are welcome… and if they don’t want you, shake the dust off your feet and don’t look back.
This is the bit where I struggle. I have this picture of Jesus in my head, loving extravagantly and embracing the outcasts, but here we see him telling his disciples, on the cusp of their first mission, to reject those who don’t listen. Now, when it comes to God I’ve been known to be a bit hard of hearing myself – especially when it is something I don’t want to hear. So if we are to turn away from those who don’t instantly hear the good news, who are we going to have left?
I still can’t answer this question entirely, but I have been able to find a different angle from which to view it. What if the disciples are being told to shake of the dust not only for the sake of the unbelievers, but themselves? How much time and effort do we spend with our hearts and minds caught up in an argument that we can never win? When do we let go, and let God?
It can be easy to forget that in all of our greatness and cleverness, we are still only human – made in the image of God, but not yet in perfection. Do any of you have family that are not Christians? Me too. Does anyone else have moments of guilt that they haven’t managed to bring their people to God? Oooooh yeah. It’s hard. Our faith is the centre point of our life, literally the light of our beings, and when we haven’t managed to share that with our nearest and dearest we really do feel like we have failed. Failed them, and failed God.
But you know what? I don’t think it’s as bad as all that. Looking at this passage, it seems that even the disciples -  filled with the Holy Spirit, healing the sick, casting out demons – could not bring every person to faith. This must have been a crushing disappointment for them, as it is for us. Imagine the burden of failure they could have carried when the people did not want to hear the good news. Imagine the recriminations, the accusations, the blame…
Now imagine Jesus standing there with them. Jesus, knowing their pain and shock at their own failure… “turn away”, he says. “Shake the dust off your feet. Don’t let the disbelief of these people pull you down. Keep going. Keep fighting. Keep believing. It’s not all up to you”.
It’s not all up to you.
I am a perfectionist. I admit it. No one is harder on myself than I am – I have worked consciously and consistently to try and accept correction without letting it beat down my soul. To say I take my failures to heart is to put it very mildly. If I really thought I had the sole responsibility for bring my loved ones to faith, I would be terrified – and rightly so.
Luckily, it doesn’t work like that.
God’s Spirit does not rely on us to transform people’s hearts. People are not lost to God because we failed to find the correct combination of words and action to bring them to faith. God works through us and in others in ways that we can’t even imagine, let alone see. God’s nature is of mystery, closer to us than we can know but vaster than we can understand. When there comes a time when we feel that we have failed, that despite our living and breathing the Gospel we have not managed to touch someone’s heart, we need to let go. Brush the dust off our feet. Leave it to God.
Because “All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.”
In the name of Christ.
Amen

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