Background: July 6-7 was a preaching weekend for me and the lectionary Gospel reading was Mark 6:1-16, where Jesus goes back to his hometown and is not accepted as a prophet and then sends out the 12 apostles with the bare minimum of possessions.
I’m going to throw a word out here at the beginning that is our word and theme of the day: interdependence. We need God and we need each other. That is always the case. Anytime we try to deny it or get around it, we are deluding ourselves. With that in the back of our minds, let’s dig into today’s Gospel.
There are two parts to the reading. First, Jesus comes back to his hometown, where he faced doubts and criticisms; where they weren’t willing to see him as anything special, certainly not a prophet.
I don’t and will never claim to be a prophet. But I have had a very different experience becoming a preacher and going into ministry in my hometown. People who have known me for all or most of my life have been accepting and enthusiastic of what likely on the outside looks like two different lives.
I grew up hard-headed and rebellious in a small town that has a good memory. At 42 years old, after working for the government in Washington, DC, for the previous four years, I became the director of the Oxford Community Center. This was a building where my father had gone to grade school and my sister had gone to summer camp. I had kind of shunned it, thinking I was too cool for it.
I remember on one of my first days at work there, seeing Jennifer Stanley, one of the people who had saved the building from being torn down and founded the community center. Jenny is an Oxford icon, riding her bike through town with curly red hair and a trail of kids behind her.
I said, “Hi Miss Jenny, I don’t know if you remember me…” To which she said, “Oh Michael, I remember you… everybody remembers you on your skateboard, with your hair—you were frightening!”
Those who remembered were excited that someone could grow up, change, and find some sort of a calling in the place where they are from. It’s been the same here at church where people who remember my “lost years” have each said something to the effect of, “Huh. Wow. Okay, go for it!”
If the outcome of casting a new light in your hometown is going to be positive, it takes a receptive and open-minded community. That’s something Jesus didn’t have.
They took offense that Jesus claimed to have something to teach them or show them that they didn’t know. And Jesus felt it.
He said to them, “Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house.” He wasn’t able to do much with them or for them. Mark tells us that Jesus was “amazed at their unbelief.”
In Jesus’s hometown, they knew his family. They knew his siblings, they knew his background, they watched him grow up. They remembered Jesus as a kid and a teenager, Joseph and Mary’s son, the carpenter.
Why in the world would God use this lower-class family, this unremarkable person, to be a prophet? Surely, if there was a prophet coming out of Nazareth, it would be someone from a better family, or with a better education—someone who they could look at and feel better about God using to tell them about His will for the world.
They thought that God’s prophets should look a certain way, be formed a certain way, and come from a particular background. Or more specifically, they thought that there were some people God wouldn’t use.
The people in Jesus’s hometown let their biases get in the way of seeing and hearing God.
It’s fair to say we still have this problem today. In “Feasting on the Word,” a series of books on our lectionary readings, the authors ask a couple of great questions from this reading that we should ask ourselves:
“Whom do we take for granted? What wisdom, what deeds of power are missing because we make judgments about who and through whom God’s work can be done?”
How many people do we encounter in a day who we might dismiss while we are on our way to see someone whose views or knowledge we are seeking out. People working in restaurants, gas stations, coffee shops, grocery stores, road crews.
I’ll tell you a quick story. In the summer of 2020, a few months into the COVID-19 pandemic, Tidewater Times Magazine asked me to write a story about the Palestinian family that runs Four Sisters Kabob, Curry and Halal Market. The mother’s name is Shahida Perveen, and her four daughters are: Andleeb, Shanza, Areej, and Bushra. Four years ago, they were taking meals to the staff at the emergency room at the hospital, giving food away to anyone who came to them hungry, and taking food home to make sure people in their neighborhood didn’t go without.
As I got talking to them, Andleeb, who is the oldest, mentioned that her sister Shanza received a full scholarship to University of Maryland, where she had graduated with honors with a degree in public health; Areej was on a full scholarship at Washington College, where she was studying political science; Bushra, the youngest was a student in Queen Anne’s County Schools; and Andleeb felt responsible for making sure that all her sisters were going to school and to help their mother run the restaurant. But in her spare time, Andleeb graduated with honors and her liberal arts degree from Chesapeake College and was enrolling in their nursing program.
If you had made any assumptions about who these women were based on their accents, skin color, or how they dressed, you were missing out on five brilliant people that certainly knew more than I did about so many things. And whose sense of charity, hospitality, and community, we could all learn from.
When we judge who God might use and who God wouldn’t use to deliver a message to the world, or to us, we make ourselves poorer.
Here is another thought from “Feasting on the Word”—
“Jesus’s powerlessness is not primarily about him but about us: about those who are unwilling to believe the great things God can do.”
God is frequently waiting on us. If I dismiss Jesus as not my thing, or I say maybe 2,000 years ago, but that kind of stuff doesn’t happen today, I’m cutting off the lifeline to love, peace, healing, and the grace I need to live every day. I love the quote often attributed to Einstein that says, “There are two ways to look at the world: that either nothing is a miracle or everything is a miracle.”
Imagine waking up in the morning open to the possibilities of the great things that God might do today and not limiting our thoughts as to how or through whom He might do them.
The second part of today’s Gospel is Jesus preparing his disciples and sending them out as “apostles.”
He sends them out two-by-two and gives them authority over unclean spirits. He tells them they can take a staff, but no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; they can wear sandals, but they can’t take two tunics. I picture apostle action figures, staff and sandals included, but nothing else. Collect all 12.
Jesus says: whenever you enter a house, stay there (be present with them) until you leave. If anyone won’t welcome you, if they refuse to hear you, shake off the dust and move on.
Why does Jesus send them out with so little? Why are they traveling so light?
Without money or food, the apostles have to rely on the hospitality of others. They may feel like they know something and have authority that other people don’t. With the nature of the work they do, they may feel special, like a big deal.
Jesus wants to make sure they are also humble. The apostles need those they are speaking to and visiting as much as people need to hear the good news. Without the hospitality of those they are calling on, the apostles will perish. Without the good news they bring the people, the people will perish.
Establishing a relationship based on mutual need and hospitality isn’t a bad foundation.
Back to our word of the day: “interdependence.”
In order for Jesus’s words and works to be effective, those who hear or witness them need to be receptive and open to them. They have to be willing to believe.
For the apostles being sent out, they are being equipped with exactly what they need to understand the relationship they need to have with those they are sent to. The apostles don’t hold all the cards, they need the people in the community. And those in the community have to be open and receptive, or the apostles are to shake off the dust and move on.
It’s not helpful, effective, or true, that those in the know, those in the Word, have all the answers and are God’s sole gift to the rest of the world. If we are fortunate enough to be on the inside when it comes to faith, we still need everyone else. And how we carry ourselves, and what we carry with us, matters.
The other part of that interdependence, besides being dependent on the community they are serving, the apostles have to rely on and depend on God. They are not self-sufficient, and the healing and casting out demons, that power doesn’t come from the apostles. It comes from God. And Jesus sends them out in a way that will help them come to learn that. Without God, nothing the apostles are sent out to do will work.
As we go out today, let’s ask ourselves a few questions:
Do we make judgments about who we think can do God’s work? What or who are we overlooking or missing out on?
Do we believe that God can do great and powerful things in the world? Will we let Him? Will we help Him?
And are we willing and able to be sent out into the mission field with the bare minimum so that we can learn to depend on God and not just on ourselves?