Richard Maxwell

When I read the Gospel story for today I started to think of any number of overworked clergy I know. Jesus is going here and going there, he’s preaching and healing and teaching . . . I started to picture him making all the travel plans, booking the reservations, trying to find the best deals; while he’s also writing sermons, making pastoral calls, planning education programs; while he’s also keeping track of the budget, fundraising, and making certain that all of the church records are up-to-date; while he’s also checking to see that everyone else is doing their job and dealing with emergencies and crises as they arise . . . he certainly knows nothing about self-care and clergy wellness programs! But he DOES know that he can’t do it all by himself.

So he does something extraordinary. He decides to send out some of his followers to do exactly the same things that he’s doing. The preacher Barbara Brown Taylor calls this story one of the most confrontational stories in the Bible.[1]

Think about it . . . there you are, perfectly content to be a follower, and then Jesus comes home absolutely exhausted after one of his trips . . . he looks around at those of you who’ve been with him from the first and he says, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. I need some help, and I’m nominating you.” In our Gospel story today Jesus is telling you that you can’t just be a follower any more; you’ve got to be a doer. And he starts calling out names.

Today, we probably hear this list as a helpful reminder of the names of the twelve apostles. But think about then . . . think about having YOUR name called out publicly and being given a job to do. What if I did that to our parish leaders?: the wardens, Rob and Bill: you take West Hartford; the treasurer, Elaine: you and Tom take Hebron; the clerk, Janet: you take Trinity College. You don’t need to worry about supplies or materials . . . you can leave your purses and your wallets here . . . God will provide. In fact, it’ll be easier for people to see that God provides if you don’t worry about taking care of yourself. Here’s what I need you to do: preach the kingdom, heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the outcasts, throw out the demons. Man oh man, could I use a weekend off! Have a great time! I can’t wait to hear the stories when you get back. Now get outta here. Go on . . . shoo . . . go, go, go . . . !

Now I realize that this calling out of names may have made some of you a little uncomfortable. It may seem to you that people shouldn’t be singled out in church. It puts them on the spot. I betcha that’s exactly how the disciples felt. And that’s exactly what Jesus does. He puts us on the spot; he calls out our names. That’s what happens every single Sunday. God singles out each and every one of us, calling us each by name. God calls each and every one of us, knowing our truth, looking into our hearts, loving us anyway and sharing God’s very self with us in Holy Communion. And then God sends us out to do God’s work. How does every mass end? Most frequently with the words “go forth” . . . “Let us go forth into the world, rejoicing in the power of the Spirit” . . . “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord” . . . or, with the words you most frequently hear from me, “Let us go forth in the name of Christ.” Go forth!

God sends us out to do God’s work. We’ve heard the job description so often that we may take it for granted . . . but once again, think about it . . . the things we’re asked to do, the things the disciples were asked to do, are EXACTLY the same things that Jesus was asked to do. It didn’t have to be that way. Jesus, for example, could have said, “Okay, look . . . I know that none of you is the Son of God. None of you was born under a blinding star, and none of you had angels singing hosannas over your crib . . . so I’ll keep your jobs simple.” Jesus could have kept his followers as followers. But he didn’t. He gave his followers his own ministry . . . he transferred it to them while he was still alive. Jesus entrusted his work to them . . . to us . . . without training or degrees. It must have been – it IS – intimidating and frightening to stop being a follower and to start being a doer. It’s so much easier to just go along for the ride . . . .

Writing this sermon that phrase, “just going along for the ride” stopped me for a moment and got me thinking . . . and I started to think about the difference between driving a car and being a passenger. I’m sure that some of you are very attentive passengers, who easily could retrace any route you’ve been driven. But I’m not like that. I love being driven because then I can watch the people and look at the buildings and survey the landscape, and I don’t have to pay any attention at all to the route we’re taking. But if I then have to drive myself to someplace I’ve always been driven to before, I need directions as if I’ve never been there. I’m almost as bad as an old friend of mine who’s never driven at all. If you’re foolish enough to ask him for directions to someplace, you’re likely to get descriptions of architectural curiosities, horticultural wonders, and scenic vistas . . . the kind of directions you could follow only if you NEVER looked at the road.

I suspect that the disciples felt a bit like I do when I’m told that I have to drive myself someplace that previously I’ve always been taken to. “I know it’s a lovely ride, but I haven’t a clue about how to get there!” Can’t you just hear the disciples? “It’s wonderful, Jesus, following you around and listening to you and watching you perform all sorts of miracles . . . but we haven’t a clue HOW you do all that. And now you want us to take over?!? “Yup,” Jesus says, “That’s exactly what I want you to do.” Many of us live our lives as Christians as if we’re simply along for the ride. But I’m telling you this morning that God really and truly wants more of you. God wants you to get out there and do just what Jesus did. God wants you – wants us – to preach the Kingdom, to share the Good News; God wants us to be healers and restorers, bringing life and hope to those outside these walls who so desperately need these things. Ever since Jesus first entrusted his ministry to his friends, this ministry has been handed on from one generation to the next, through the millennia. It’s our turn now. It’s our turn to do just as Jesus did.

Don’t worry about your lack of preparation or training . . . God will take care of all that. Look again at today’s Gospel story. Jesus doesn’t tell his disciples HOW to do what he asks of them; he doesn’t give his disciples a course in preaching or a curriculum in miracles . . . he just tells them to go do it . . . and we know from the Gospels that they DO. They go out and do it. God gives them the words and the strength to do what God wants them to do. And they are ASTOUNDED by what they’re able to do . . . or rather what God is able to do through them. God will do the same for us. Jesus doesn’t need to tell us how . . . God will take care of that . . . but what Jesus DOES spend some time doing, however, is teaching his disciples the WAY in which they are to do God’s work. That’s where all that business of taking no money, nor luggage, nor extra clothing . . . not even shoes! . . . comes in.

Barbara Brown Taylor, that preacher I mentioned earlier, tells a story about a friend of hers who spent a year in Cambodia. It’s a story about a Buddhist custom that I think has something to do with today’s Gospel story. According to this young man, all seekers of the truth in Cambodia spend at least a year of their lives as beggars. They go from village to village wearing nothing but a saffron robe and owning nothing but a begging bowl, asking perfect strangers to supply their most basic needs. After the year is over, they are free to return to their former ways of life . . . but none of them returns the same person. Imagine what it would be like to have nothing but your own need. Imagine what it would be like to understand that the only thing you have to offer anyone else is what you yourself have been given? Imagine what it would be like to understand that whatever they give you comes from what has been given to them?

After a year like that you wouldn’t be the same. You’d understand that all the things you’re so proud of . . . all your achievements, all you own, EVERYTHING you have . . . is a GIFT! Your relationships with other people would change . . . they’d be fundamentally different . . . because you’d understand how much you need them . . . and how much they need you. You couldn’t work in our food pantry, for example, and hold yourself apart from the clients coming for groceries. You’d look at the woman at the door and see yourself . . . or you would see God . . . but either way, what you offer her would not come out of your abundance, but out of your need. Your need to give her a portion of what has been given to you and to receive whatever she has to give you in return.

When you go forth in Christ’s name . . . when you become a doer of Jesus’ ministry . . . when you become a provider of God’s love in this world, you come to realize that there is really only one provider: God. God is the provider and sustainer of all . . . EVERYTHING is a gift. When Jesus sends us out to do exactly as he did, he sends us out ill-prepared and untrained, with nothing at all . . . and with everything we need. For Jesus sends us out with healing, forgiveness, restoration, and resurrection. Those are the only things we REALLY have to share with the world . . . which is just as well . . . for they are the only things the world really needs. Healing, forgiveness, restoration, resurrection.

[1] “Heaven at Hand” in Bread of Angels, published by Cowley Publications in 1997, pp. 151-55, which is quoted extensively and is the basis of this sermon.