Mark 6:1-13
Let’s be really honest.
This is a weird story. Set
against the remainder of the Gospel of Mark, it’s almost a non-story…and the
word “immediately” doesn’t appear even once in this passage. Strange indeed. It doesn’t have the narrative flow we are
used to and it isn’t clear at first pass just what the heck we’re supposed to
do with this today. So, I had to go back
and read it a half dozen times…and then ask Terry to read it aloud. (He does character voices if you ask him real
nice.)
And finally, I heard it…it’s TWO stories.
Here’s the first: Jesus
left the home of the little girl whom he had restored to life and returned to
his hometown of Nazareth. The disciples
came along. On the Sabbath day, he
taught in the synagogue. He was a total
hit! Everyone was impressed. “Wow!” they said. “We had no idea he was this good!” and “How did he get to be so smart, so wise…have
so much to say? So much ability?”
But then they turned on a dime and started talking bad about
him. “He’s just a carpenter—Mary’s
bastard kid. We’ve known him
forever. Who does he think he is?”
Jesus told them, that now famous saying: Prophets have little honor in their hometown. He wasn’t able to do much there. He healed a few people, but that’s it. He couldn’t get over their stubbornness…he
was amazed at their unbelief.
Now why was this amazing?
Because for his entire life, Jesus has had folks teach him the
Scriptures. And he’s been a fabulous
student. And what has Jesus learned from
these folks in his neighborhood? He’s
learned that all throughout the history of their people, God has chosen the
least, the outcast, the weird; God has chosen the unlikely to do amazing,
important, incredible things!
Jesus has heard the stories of Sarah the barren woman, of Moses
the stutterer, of Joseph the youngest, of Jacob the thief…and these stories
have begun to ignite his desire and imagination for the liberation and the
freedom of his own people from Roman occupation. If God has done it before, God can do it
again!
But the folks in the old neighborhood don’t seem to get it, and so
Jesus left. He could cure illness, but
he couldn’t cure stubborn hearts.
Here’s the second story:
Once he realized there was not a lot he could do for the folks of
Nazareth, Jesus called his disciples and told them to go out to teach and
heal. Jesus gave them authority and
power to deal with the unclean spirits...or evil opposition or the empire. And he gave them some pretty clear
instructions:
“You don’t need any
special equipment for this,” he said. “Keep
it simple. You are the equipment. No
fancy hotels. Find a modest place and
hang out there until you leave a town.
Be content in the simplicity.
“Now, if you aren’t
welcomed, if no one will listen, just go.
Don’t make a big scene. Shrug it
off and walk away.”
Then they were
off! They began to preach and to
proclaim that God wants something different for humanity. They send evil away, they anoint the sick and
heal their spirits.
So, you see, the disciples’ ministry begins to
mirror the ministry of Jesus. They aren’t
called to do something new, but they are called to continue the ministry he’s
already started.
What does this mean
for the church today? What does
discipleship and ministry look like in Marysville? How do we continue the ministry of Jesus? How do we anoint the sick, help the blind to
see, heal spirits, and oppose empire?
Maybe it looks a lot
like hospitality. Maybe it means we
fling wide our doors and invite folks into our church, into our company, into
our lives. Maybe we offer space in our
world for “the other”.
Or does it? Remember the
first story in the gospel lesson? Jesus’s
life and words are cause for offense and ridicule by the very people with whom
he has grown up. Jesus does not receive
hospitality, but he sends the disciples out to be dependent on it. He also prepares them for rejection.
You see, Jesus never
imagined that his followers would have a place of privilege. And here we are, over two thousand years
later, in this country at least, in positions of privilege and power. Jesus never imagined that his followers would
have widespread cultural acceptance, and yet, in this time and in this place,
Christians, especially white ones, are
the cultural norm…or that’s what we’ve come to believe and to proclaim and to
claim for ourselves. The people who have
come before us beginning with the drafters of the Declaration of Independence
lived in privilege, called it God-given right at the expense of others and
passed that legacy of power, of privilege, of empire right on down to us…and we
have been grateful to receive it.
But as we re-read
the Gospel with scale-free eyes (oh, we hope), we see we’ve gotten it terribly
wrong! We are the guests. And we’ve
been behaving as though it is our place to welcome the “other”. We have welcomed folks into our
churches. We have made a space for folks
in our company. We have invited folks
into our lives…welcomed them to our tables.
And in doing that,
we’ve perpetuated our position of power.
Welcoming others is
easy. We remain in control of cultural
norms, liturgical musts, even the menu.
Maybe instead, we need to take on the vulnerability
that’s implied in being a guest. And we
need to accept invitations into other homes, other neighborhoods, other places
of worship. We need to become intimately
acquainted with vulnerability. With
asking rather than assuming. With
receiving rather than taking.
Maybe that way, we can more authentically be
disciples of Jesus. It won’t strip us of
our privilege, but maybe it will help us to see the world a little
differently. Maybe we will be able to
see all of the places that we benefit because of legacy. Maybe it will give us the courage to speak
truth to power in those places. Maybe it
will give us strength to use our privilege for the benefit of those without it.
But, my friends, I don’t know yet how we do
that exactly. And so I am asking for
your help today. Go home and pray and
meditate on what resuming the role of guest might look like here at St. Philip’s,
in Marysville, in your neighborhoods, in your work places.
Whatever being a guest looks like, I can assure
you that others who sit in places of power and privilege will most assuredly
not like it when you shake up the status quo.
When you question how certain sets of people are set up in this country
to succeed without even thinking about it…just by virtue of their birth. It makes folks uncomfortable. It will probably cause some of them to withhold
their hospitality. And guess what? I bet that means you’re doing it right.
Hear the good
news: Jesus expected us to be rejected.
And he gave us some clear instructions on how to deal with that: Shake the dust off your feet and keep
going. Shrug your shoulders and walk
away. But don’t allow yourself to be
silenced. And remember, Jesus will be with us…always.
Amen.
*thanks to Working Preacher, Lectionary Lab, Eugene Peterson, and Terry Kyllo for all the assistance
*thanks to Working Preacher, Lectionary Lab, Eugene Peterson, and Terry Kyllo for all the assistance
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