Of Deacons and Devils



Propers: The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost (Lectionary 14), A.D. 2019 C

Homily:

Lord, we pray for the preacher, for you know his sins are great.

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

Generosity! Superabundant generosity appears to be the theme of our readings this morning. “The harvest is plentiful,” Jesus says, “but the laborers are few.” There is no paucity of faith on earth, no scarcity of gifts or of opportunities. It’s all out there, just waiting for the festival of the harvest. What we need are more workers to go and gather into God’s great granary the fruits of the field that are already ripe and ready for reaping.

Imagine if this were how we as Christians most often saw the world: not as lost souls gone astray in need of a talking-to, but as preexistent treasures of God, fruits of the field, to be gathered in together for the rejoicing of us all. I daresay that might make for a very different sort of Church.

Our Gospel reading starts off with Jesus selecting 70 disciples to go out ahead of Him and prepare for His immanent arrival. This recalls Moses doing much the same thing in a previous generation, appointing 70 elders to receive God’s Spirit and thus help him, as the Lawgiver, to adjudicate God’s people. It also, interestingly enough, uses the same Greek turn of phrase applied to Noah’s Ark—sending out in couples, two-by-two—implying that each pair might actually be a man and a woman, a deacon and deaconess.

And their job is to go out together into the various places to which Jesus Himself will soon come. They are to “carry no purse, no bag, no sandals,” and not to tarry in greeting anyone upon the road. Whatever house they first enter, they are to say, “Peace to this house!” And if anyone there shares that peace, it will rest upon that person; but if not, the blessing will return undiminished unto them.

In other words, they are to rely entirely upon the hospitality of others, offering only peace, and not fretting one whit whether that peace is reciprocated. “Remain in the same house,” Jesus further instructs them, “eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the laborer deserves to be paid. Do not move from house to house. Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you.”

Which is to say, don’t be a social climber. Don’t look for the better house, the richer patron, the fellow with an in-ground pool. The laborer deserves to be paid, of course—this is a rich harvest the workers are to gather—but the disciples of Christ must be humble in their acceptance of what is set before them. When a family shares their home, their food, their hospitality, these things must not be disdained nor abandoned. As God accepts in love the offerings of His people, which benefit the Almighty not at all, how much more must we in love accept the food that sustains us and the roof which shelters us.

Typically when Christians speak of hospitality, we are concerned with showing hospitality to guests, especially when we have visitors in our community of worship. But here Christ instructs the disciples to accept the opposite as well—to be willing to put ourselves at the mercy of strangers, to become vulnerable for the Kingdom of God. Paradoxically, a good way to make friends, to form a bond, is not simply to be generous to one in need, but also to ask for something in one’s own need. That takes humility. It takes trust. It puts you in one’s debt.

It’s not just about Christians saying, “Boy, wait until you see what we have to offer to you.” It’s also Christians saying to the outsider, to the other, “Please, you have so much to offer the world and the Kingdom. May we share your gifts with you?”

Now, to the meat of the matter, the reasons for which they have come: “Cure the sick who are there,” Christ commands, “and say to them, ‘The Kingdom of God has come near to you.’ And should they not welcome you, should they reject or ignore you, simply brush the dust off your feet, and proclaim, ‘Nevertheless, know this: the Kingdom of God has come near!’”

Note that. No violence, no threats, no guilt trips. Whether they accept you or not makes no difference in the proclamation: the Kingdom of God has come near to you! Christ is on His way, whether you like it or not. He offers forgiveness and mercy and healing and life to you, whether you like it or not. And He loves you, all the way to hell and back, whether you like it or not. Deal with it.

And when the disciples do this, when they go out into the wide wild world and proclaim the healing and the grace of the Kingdom of God in Jesus Christ our Lord, they come home again rejoicing, saying, “Lord, in Your Name, even the demons submit to us!” And He says to them: “I watched Satan fall like lightning from Heaven. Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in Heaven.”

Satan, of course, is the Accuser, the prosecuting attorney in the court of Heaven. And because of what these disciples have done, because of their proclamation and humility and acts of lovingkindness in Jesus’ Name, that Accuser has been cast down from before the presence of God. The case against humanity is thrown entirely out of court. And it wasn’t because of some great cosmic battle. It wasn’t due to legions of angels raining fire from Heaven, the parting of seas or the death of the firstborn. It was due here to simple, humble, small acts of kindness, inclusion, healing, and love.

That’s what causes the devils to flee shrieking before the disciples. That’s what casts Satan down from Heaven to the depths of the bottomless Pit. To borrow the words of the wise wizard Gandalf from Lord of the Rings: “Some believe it is only great power that can hold evil in check, but that is not what I have found. It is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay.”

I have seen and heard too much, in my life and my ministry, to dismiss devils as merely metaphor or myth. But the truth is that they rarely work in great horrors or hauntings, bearing their fangs, showing their horns. There is a banality to evil, an everyday cruelty that brings about mass suffering via indifference and acedia. Satan doesn’t have to show his hand. We do it for him, while he is content to sit behind the scenes and supervise with his hooves up on his desk.

Jesus, however, has a cosmic perspective. He can see that in every small mercy, every humble kindness, every work of comfort, forgiveness, healing, and justice, every uplifting word or silent vigil that we think goes unnoticed—there is the devil defeated. There is the triumph of Christ. There is the Kingdom of God. Thus are our names written in Heaven, where no good deed goes unnoted.

Be humble, my Christians. Be loving. Go out into the world knowing that the harvest is abundant and God wants us to gather the whole of it, every last fruit and grain, into the protection of His granary and the joys of His heavenly feast. Seek not riches or honors or titles. Seek not fame in the eyes of the world. Seek only Christ in the heart of your neighbor, whatever his color, her caste, or their creed. And know that in such things lies Heaven on this earth, and that you are the herald and the worker for the Kingdom of God come down to save us all.

In the Name of the Father and of the +Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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