Wolfwalkers



Propers: The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost (Lectionary 14), AD 2022 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.

“I send you out as sheep amidst the wolves.” I daresay that was not what they’d expected.

Our Gospel reading this morning is a text of immense richness, one to which we may return time and again to mine the meaning. I know this because my wife belongs to an online group, which has met weekly since Covid began, to study this specific text, these same verses for the last two years. They read it together; ponder what strikes them; share their insights with a partner; and then tell the greater group what they heard their partner say.

It is an exercise in listening, in “dwelling in the Word.” And Christians have been doing this for a very long time indeed. Ever since Origen in the third century, we have practiced lectio divina, the “divine reading” of the Scriptures. The idea here is that Christ, the Word of God, is incarnate in the Bible, in the holy texts, and so He may touch us through them. This is truly divine inspiration—but not of the sort that we tend to hear about today.

Lectio divina has nothing to do with a fundamentalist or slavishly literalist reading of the Scriptures. Rather, with Christ as our lens, Christ as our guide, the Holy Spirit opens us to deeper meanings in the texts. We wrestle with the Scriptures. This is what Luther meant when he said that the Bible has hands and grapples us, feet and chases us; that the Scriptures kill us and make us alive again.

Christian meditation involves focusing on the text, repeating it, chewing it, letting it sink into our bones, to become a part of us. And then we ponder, and we listen, for the still, small voice of God speaking to us today. Christians meditate not only with beads but with books.

Now, this particular text, I do believe, has a great deal to offer to us, a great deal to teach us. It is one of Jesus’ most explicit instructions on how Christians are to behave. In context, He is speaking to His disciples, a group of 70 or so close followers of Jesus. These are separate from, and in addition to, the 12 Apostles of Jesus’ inner circle, and of course the crowds who follow Him from day to day.

70 is one of those numbers that keep cropping up in the Bible, fraught with history and significance. Genesis lists 70 nations, 71 with Israel; Moses appointed 70 elders to help him govern God’s people, 71 with Moses; the Great Sanhedrin running Jerusalem at the time of Jesus Christ consisted of 71 judges. So now Jesus has selected His own 70, and He sends them out two-by-two. Jesus then is the new Moses, with an alternate Sanhedrin; and sending 70 disciples throughout Israel presages their later mission to the gentiles, to the nations of the earth.

Their job is to pave the way, to make straight the paths of the Lord. He has sent them to towns and locations which He soon plans to visit Himself. Earlier He did something similar with the 12 Apostles. There these disciples are to bear the Good News that the long-awaited Kingdom of God is now at last at hand. Hallelujah! And in so doing, note how they are to behave.

“The harvest is plentiful,” Jesus tells them, “but the laborers are few.” He starts out with an ethos of abundance. See all the good before you, all the harvest that your Father intends to gather safely into His granary. All are of value in His eyes. All are beloved children. And all are called now to come home. Gather the abundance.

But “I send you out as sheep amidst the wolves,” He warns them. Do not think that you have come to make a profit, to reap honor and glory and gold. “Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals.” Disciples are to rely entirely upon the hospitality of strangers. And I’ll grant you that this is a lot easier in Middle Eastern societies, where even today amongst Afghans and Bedouins hospitality is a cultural imperative. Yet relying on the kindness of others not only keeps us humble, but also teaches us to be kind.

“I was hungry, and you fed Me; thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink.” To be appointed as Jesus’ disciple will not reap a worldly reward. That’s not what the Kingdom’s about. I mean, we all know what wolves do to sheep, yes? And yet Jesus was more than willing to do the same for us. Shall we not follow Him?

“Greet no-one on the road,” He continues. This one might seem a little strange to us, what with all the hospitality talk. Wouldn’t it then be rude not to greet someone on the road? Well, He doesn’t just mean a nice wave and a “Hey, there.” He’s almost certainly speaking of formal ritual greetings, which take time and effort. The mission was imperative, and they’re to waste no time. The prophet Elisha famously gave this same directive to his own disciple in the Book of 2 Kings. Don’t dawdle, in other words. Don’t dillydally. The Kingdom is serious business.

“Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this house!’ And if anyone is there who shares in peace, your peace will rest on that person; but if not, it will return to you.” Now, “peace be with you” is a standard Semitic greeting even today. Shalom. Salaam. Jesus’ emphasis is on the fact that it must be given to all, that we offer peace to all, and if it’s not accepted, there is no loss to us. Your peace shall not depart, but shall return to you. Maintain your peace, in other words, even if it’s not shared, even if it’s not reciprocated. We are to offer peace, period.

“Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the laborer deserves to be paid. Do not move about from house to house.” Again, it’s about hospitality, and cultivating humility. Eat what is provided, without reservation, without complaint—incidentally, good advice for a marriage as well. And don’t move about from house to house; which is to say, if a wealthier, better-heeled person invites you to upgrade, don’t do it. Don’t say to your hosts, “Hey, it’s been swell, but this guy over here has more to offer.” No. It’s not about you.

“Cure the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘The Kingdom of God has come near to you.’” Now that’s pretty straightforward. Proclaim the presence of God, as known in Jesus Christ. Proclaim the Jubilee, the liberation of us all. And care for those in need: miraculously if you can, but by any means at your disposal. In this way, we represent Christ: we do as He does, heal as He heals, and love as He loves. The Kingdom is proclaimed in word as well as deed.

“But whenever you enter a town and they do not welcome you, go out into its streets and say, ‘Even the dust that clings to our feet we wipe off in protest against you. Yet know this: the Kingdom of God has come near.” If hospitality is a cardinal virtue of the Middle East, then inhospitality is the greatest sin. According to Matthew, when Jesus sent the 12 Apostles out on a similar mission, He said to them, “It will be more tolerable for the land of Sodom … on the day of judgment than for that town” which rejects you.

And despite what you may have heard of sodomy, the Bible is actually quite clear on what the sin of Sodom was. “This was the guilt of your sister Sodom,” proclaims the prophet Ezekiel: “she and her daughters had pride, excess of food, and prosperous ease, but did not aid the poor and needy.” That’s sodomy. Remember last week, when James and John wanted to call down fire upon the Samaritan town that would not show Christ hospitality? They were recalling, and reënacting, the punishment of Sodom. Yet Jesus rebukes them for their hard-heartedness.

Shake the dust off your feet, He tells us. Let their rejection slide off of you like water off a duck’s back. Jesus is no stranger to rejection, no stranger to disappointing and even enraging lots of people. Don’t curse, don’t fight, don’t call down fire. Just shake it off. And tell them, “Yet know this: the Kingdom of God has come near.” Isn’t that great? In the face of rejection and insult, the disciples of Jesus are to retort, “Oh, yeah? Well, God loves you anyway! So take that!”

Grace is offered without limit, without precondition, and does not cease to be grace in the face of bad behavior, in the face of rejection or even violence. God loves you anyway. The Kingdom has come near you in Jesus Christ. Deal with it. Rejection is nothing personal; after all, Jesus says, they’re not rejecting you but Me. And even Sodom has a place in the world to come, when she stands before the judgment seat. Do not underestimate the power of Christ to save.

Peace. Healing. Humility. Hospitality. These are the marks of the Kingdom, the hallmark of Jesus Christ. And so must they be for those of us whom He has deigned to call as Christians, as sainted sinners, as “little Christs” for the world. This may not be first-century Judea, but I think it clear how this text should speak to us today. Imagine a Christianity that acts like this. Then truly would people know that the Kingdom of God is here, in Jesus Christ our Lord.

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

 

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