| Mark 6:1-13 "A Hands On Approach" |
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| Written by Rev. Don Lee | |
| Saturday, 08 July 2006 | |
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Poet and storyteller Robert Bly tells the following story: Once upon a time there was a king and queen. And they lived in a castle. Near the castle there was a forest. You know there’s always a forest near the castle. And this forest was like other forests, with one exception. When anyone would enter it, he didn’t come back. 500 went out and they didn’t come back. 10 hundred went out and they didn’t come back. And 20 hundred went out. They did not come back. Then 30 hundred were sent out after them, and they did not come back. And pretty soon, no one went to that part of the forest, anymore. Only occasionally, a hawk or an eagle flew over. That was the situation. That’s the way it lasted, for many yeas. Finally one day a young man came, and he said…anything dangerous to do around here? And the king said, yes there is but I wouldn’t recommend it because the return rate is not good. And the young man said, “That’s the sort of thing I like, I think I’ll go.” So he went taking only his dog with him. Maybe the fact that he didn’t go in a group was part of it. He took only his dog with him. And he walked into the forest and he walked a long way into the forest and all of sudden a hand came up out of the pond and pulled the dog under…. And the young man didn’t get hysterical….he just said, “Ah! This must be the place!” Are you ready for an adventure? In my mind those words better summarize our scripture reading then just about any other. Jesus calls us out, will we go? It is a journey wrought with intrigue, peril, and the wildly unexpected. You will go hungry, face hardships of many kinds, and be pushed to your farthest limits. Throw in a few demons and a handful of miracles and it promises to be an adventure of a lifetime. Jesus calls…will you go? Our scripture reading comes from the Gospel of Mark 6:1-13. I invite you to stand as you are able and listen to the Spirit within. He [Jesus] left that place and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. 2On the Sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. They said, ‘Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands! 3Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary* and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?’ And they took offence* at him. 4Then Jesus said to them, ‘Prophets are not without honor, except in their home town, and among their own kin, and in their own house.’ 5And he could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. 6And he was amazed at their unbelief. Then he went about among the villages teaching. 7He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. 8He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; 9but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. 10He said to them, ‘Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. 11If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.’ 12So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. 13They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them. Prayer: Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love. Send forth your Spirit and they shall be created. And You shall renew the face of the earth. Amen. The sending out of the 12 is a radical paradigm shift in Jesus’ approach to ministry. It is a movement away from the teacher-student model that has defined the Disciples’ relationship with Jesus for the last 36 months of their lives. Now on their first solo flight, they are sent out two-by-two. The imagery of course, is an ancient one. The flood story, reported in both the Babylonian Gilgamesh and the Hebrew book of Genesis records a calling. Two-by-two animal and human are called into the Ark, to be saved from the chaotic antediluvian waters that consume the creation when God “pulls the plug.” The ark is a symbol of life and salvation; a divine womb out of which the new world will be born. Today’s gospel narrative reverses this story. By faith in Jesus, the Disciples are “born-again” in the divine womb of God’s Grace. And now that the baptismal waters have receded, they are called out, two-by-two. They leave behind (if but for a short time) the dwelling of Jesus’ protective care and go into a unpredictable world wrought with danger. And lest we forget that danger, in the very next scene of Mark’s Gospel (verses 14-29), the narrative is careful to remind us with the untimely demise of John the Baptist. Take nothing, Jesus says, nothing but a staff and shoes and his traveling mercies. No bread, no bag, no money, no visible means of support; nothing to eat, no change of clothes, no money to buy necessities. Like arriving at your destination with only to learn your luggage ended up in Phoenix! Oh great Jesus, how’s this going to work? Jesus doesn’t explain why he radically strips his disciples of their survival provisions. Common sense would tell you to “be prepared.” Instead they are left to the good graces of their hearers and ultimately at the mercy of God. The implication being that God would inspire hospitality in others. Two of the students in my doctorate level classes this summer are the grandchildren of black slaves. One shared his own memory of how on family vacations his mother would pack meals of home made fried chicken, hot baked rolls, with all the fixins, for their cross country driving trips and how wonderful it made the family car smell, deliciously teasing and torturing the children until lunchtime when dad would find a park and pull over and mom would spread out this delicious feast before them. It never dawned on him as a child to question to this wonderful “meaning-full” family tradition. That mom cooked this meal and packed it for the trip because the diners that lined the highway refused service to blacks. Just because Jesus’ disciples are armed only with staff and shoes, doesn’t mean they go unprepared or ill equipped for the journey ahead. Despite any fear or feelings of unworthiness, I am convinced they had exactly what they needed to do the work Jesus had given them to do. Only, it wasn’t going to be easy. In fact, Jesus warned it would be dangerous. “I am sending you out like sheep among wolves,” he tells his Disciples in Matthew’s parallel version of the Sending out (Mt. 10:16). WOLVES EAT SHEEP, RIGHT? So there is danger. But hear this. One of the things that system theory teaches us is that change seldom comes, except by way of crisis! Jesus’ disciples work from the familiar to the unknown; from hometown to the back streets and alleys of unexplored neighborhoods filled with strange smells, unfamiliar customs and languages. For them it is a crisis of sorts, a stepping outside of the normal and a stepping into a new way of doing and being. At some level, I suspect this is how the 37 youth from our church felt as they left for Mission trip this morning at 4 A.M! This is not normal! In the send off this morning, Denise reflected on the just released entries from Columbine killer Dylan Klebold’s day planner, contrasting it with the decision our youth are making as they leave for their weeklong mission trip to New Mexico. "Hell on Earth - ahh, my favorite, so many people need to die," wrote Klebold in Harris' 1998 yearbook. What a contrast to the statement being made by our own youth as they leave for Four Corners. Please keep Evan, our youth and adult leaders in your prayers this week! Ask yourself, “Am I trying to follow Jesus without leaving home?” Because you cannot follow Jesus and stay safely within the walls of your own personal agenda! Before we can begin the Journey, we must first disentangle ourselves. After all, naming sin is easy. Reframing our identity and affirming our gifts is much more difficult. Jesus calls his followers out on a journey to the unexpected: To bring healing, peace and the good news to people. In the book, “The Art of Cars,” John Lasseter, the Academy Award winning director of Cars and one of the founders of Pixar writes about his needing a break after the wrap-up of Toy Story 2, following nine straight years directing Pixar’s 1st three feature films. He and his wife, Nancy, loaded their five sons into a recreational vehicle and took off on the open road. He is quoted to say: “It was a very long journey. I took off for two months and we just drove. We made no plans and no reservations. We put our feet in the Pacific Ocean just north of the Golden Gate Bridge and headed east. Our only plan was to eventually dip our feet in the Atlantic. We just traveled across the country from coast to coast and took in everything. It was such a great adventure, but the true epiphany came in North Carolina one afternoon when I was about halfway through a rather bland taco at some chain restaurant. I suddenly realized that I could be anywhere in America and here I am eating a taco in North Carolina, when there’s plenty of genuine barbecue all around us! We left immediately in search of a hometown eatery where the folks go to feast on the local staple-great barbecue.” The book’s narrator summarizes, “It was a turning point for John. He had experienced firsthand how America had become overrun with predictable, homogenous franchises. Now, after enjoying regional cuisine, he found himself searching for those special places that still offered the real thing. John also discovered that the trip was having an enormous impact on his family. “I realized that I had been working long hours and was beginning to lose touch with my children. My wife had warned me that one day I’d wake up and my kids would be off to college and I would have missed it. Being with each other on this road trip brought us closer together.” The narrator concludes, “Inspired by his revelation in barbecue country with his family, John decided to make a film with cars as characters who experience the expected along the nation’s superhighways, experience the unexpected along the back roads, and learn that the “journey in life is the reward.” P. 10-12 The Art of Cars, Michael Wallis John Lassetter was in my high school art class and even back then, a talented artist. I’m proud of John and his accomplishments but even more proud to know he has learned that the journey is the adventure. The art of the journey is learning to stop, take a deep breath, and look around. It is to be in the moment and to savor “the barbecue.” Let me put this into more religious terms. “Be still and know that I am God! I am exalted among the nations, I am exalted in the earth.” -Psalm 46:10 I think we sometimes forget that Jesus is who goes with us on our Journey. Vs. 7, “he gave them [exousia] authority….” What this “pre-Pentecost” authority was is unclear. We only know that now the Disciples could do the things that Jesus could do. In fact I think the Gospel narrative intentionally sets the reader up to conclude that in his notable absence, Jesus is somehow present with his disciples, making possible miraculous deeds. It is not until verse thirty that we learn how things went. “The Apostles gathered around Jesus and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while. It is here in Mark’s Gospel that the disciples of Jesus go from being a number, “The twelve” to being partners with Jesus in his Kingdom mission. It is here they are first referred to as “The Apostles.” Life is a journey. Perhaps on many levels, it is both a turning outward and a turning inward. Cancer Physician Dr. Rachel Remen writes in her book, “My Grandfather’s Blessings,” On Friday afternoons, when I would arrive at my grandfather’s house after school, the tea would already be set on the kitchen table. My grandfather had his own way of serving tea. There were no tea cups and saucers or bowls or granulated sugar or honey. Instead, he would pour the tea directly from the silver samovar into a drinking glass. There had to be a teaspoon in the glass first, otherwise the glass, being thin, might break. My grandfather did not drink his tea in the same way that the parents of my friends did either. He would put a cube of sugar between his teeth and then drink the hot tea straight from his glass. So would I. I much preferred drinking tea this way to the way I had to drink tea at home. After we finished our tea my grandfather would set two candles on the table and light them. Then he would have a word with God in Hebrew. Sometimes he would speak out loud, but often he would close his eyes and be quiet. I knew then that he was talking to God in his heart. I would sit and wait patiently because the best part of the week was coming. When Grandpa finished talking to God, he would turn to me and say, “Come, Neshum-le.” Then I would stand in front of him and he would rest his hands lightly on the top of my head. He would begin by thanking God for me and for making him my grandpa. He would specifically mention my struggles during that week and tell God something about me that was true. Each week I would wait to find out what that was. If I had made mistakes during the week, he would mention my honesty in telling the truth. If I had failed, he would appreciate how hard I had tried. If I had taken even a short nap without my nightlight, he would celebrate my bravery in sleeping in the dark. Then he would give me his blessing and ask the long-ago women I knew from his many stories- Sarah, Rachel, Rebekah, and Leah- to watchy over me. These few moments were the only time in my week when I felt completely safe and at rest. My family of physicians and health professionals were always struggling to learn more and to be more. It seemed there was always more to know. It was never enough. If I brought home a 98 on a test from school, my father would ask, “And what happened to the other two points?” I pursued those two points relentlessly throughout my childhood. But my grandfather did not care about such things. For him, I was already enough. And somehow when I was with him, I knew with absolute certainty that this was so. My grandfather died when I was seven years old. I had never lived in a world without him in it before, and it was hard for me. He had looked at me as no one else had and called me by a special name, “Neshume-le,” which means “beloved little soul.” There was no one left to call me this anymore. At first I was afraid that without him to see me and tell God who I was, I might disappear. But slowly over time I came to understand that in some mysterious way, I had learned to see myself through his eyes. And that once blessed, we are blessed forever. Many years later when, in her extreme old age, my mother surprisingly began to light candles and talk to God herself, I told her about these blessings and what they had meant to me. She had smiled at me sadly. “I have blessed you every day of your life, Rachel,” she told me. “I just never had the wisdom to do it out loud.” P.22-24 My Grandfather’s Blessings, Rachel Naomi Remen, M.D. I keep thinking about a road sign I saw posted recently at a local intersection. “Construction ahead—expect delays.” The Journey will take a lifetime but it is an adventure worth taking. Jesus calls, will you go? In “The Journey is Home,” Nelle Morton writes, There is no road ahead. We make the road as we go. The clue of the beginning is more often then not discovered until near the end, entirely too late to back up and start over again. Maybe journey is not such much a journey ahead but a journey into presence. The further place on earth is the journey into the presence of the person nearest to you. Jesus calls! Will you go? |
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