Pentecost 3A
June 18, 2023
Matthew 9:35—10:23
INTRODUCTION
As I mentioned last week, we have entered now into the church season called “ordinary time.” During this season, the assigned lectionary texts instruct us regarding how to be the Church. From Christmas through the Easter season, we talk a lot about Jesus and his life. Then on Pentecost the Holy Spirit comes and enlivens the Church, and for the season of Pentecost, our focus turns to how that Spirit continues to enliven the church today.
Last week we got to ease into this season with some nice healing stories. Today, though, hold onto your hats: we will hear a very difficult and even scary instruction from Jesus, about being “sent like sheep into the midst of wolves.” This story will strike fear in the heart of the careful listener, as we imagine the difficult task placed before the disciples, and so also us. Romans offers us some consolation, in one of Paul’s most well-known passages about how even in the midst of suffering, hope does not disappoint us. The first reading sets up the enduring devotion to God that has been the intention of God’s faithful people even since Moses on Mount Sinai.
It’s a lot to carry, but also useful and timely, as many of us wonder as individuals and as a Church, “What is my or our role in all that is going on in the world? What is a Christian to do?” So as you listen, seek to find in this Word an answer to that question. Let’s listen.
[READ]
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
A couple weeks ago we held our Upstate New York Synod Assembly, the annual business meeting for the synodical expression of the Lutheran Church. Each year the assembly has a theme, which informs our keynote address and workshop learning opportunities. This year’s theme was Restorative Justice. We learned a bit about what that is, and how it differs from the criminal justice system with which we are more familiar. We heard from our synod’s Racial Justice Task Force, and our Gender Justice Task Force, and the New York Council of Churches shared with us some of their advocacy efforts, and how we can participate in them. And we learned a lot about what it takes to seek justice in the issues that face our world and our neighbors today.
I wonder how many of us would consider ourselves workers for justice. Many of us as individuals, and St. Paul’s as a congregation, are really great at being charitable – that is, we donate items and money to people in need. This is a necessary part of helping people in need, and this has been a part of who the Church is and what the Church does since the very beginning. It is fairly comfortable, and it feels good, and it is undoubtedly helpful and faithful.
But charity is not the same as justice. Where charity is feeding someone, justice is working to change the systems that cause so many to be hungry. Where charity is pulling trash out of a river, justice is going upstream to figure out why there is so much trash in the river, and stopping it at its source. A truly just society (and one, I would argue, that resembles the kingdom Christ proclaims) has no need for charity, because in a just society, in God’s kingdom, everyone already has what they need – be in food, or health, or education, or safety.
Seeking justice is hard work. It takes more effort to learn about the causes of people’s suffering – more work for our brains, and also for our hearts. But it is also hard because it takes a level of vulnerability just to get started in the work, and then to continue… much more vulnerability than it takes to write a check, which, again, is important, but it also allows us to maintain some distance from the problem.
A few years ago, I was a part of conversation with some fellow white moms, in which we were discussing how we can do our part to confront racism. We started by breaking into small groups and answering the question, “What is the biggest challenge for you in confronting racism?” Answers varied, but I heard some common themes: discomfort with not knowing what to say or how, worrying about saying or doing it wrong, concern about our close relationships with people whose opinions differ, fatigue from just how much work is to be done, and feeling inadequate for the task due to any number of factors, including simply a lack of understanding of what it is like to live as a non-white person in this country. I’ll be honest: it felt comforting to hear other intelligent, thoughtful, accomplished women and mothers, the sorts of people I admire and look up to, name some of the very same fears I have myself, not only about the issue of racism, but of any number of justice issues!
Most of the answers I heard, and felt myself, boiled down to some sense of fear: fear of doing it wrong, of hurting people, and of the sheer magnitude of the task and the time and energy it will take to accomplish. They are pretty common fears, really, in the face of hard work and potential conflict. In fact, I couldn’t help but notice echoes of those same fears in Jesus’ commission to his disciples in today’s Gospel reading. Today’s text is the only time Matthew uses not only the word “disciple,” one who follows, but also, “apostle,” one who is sent. These guys are sent out to do what Jesus knows will be a terrifying, even dangerous task. I suspect being tasked with something so big and important was a thrill for these guys! But excitement and fear are often two sides of the same coin, right? So even as they felt honored and excited to do this work, I suspect they were also a little (or even a lot) fearful… probably similar fears to what I mentioned before: of saying or doing the wrong thing, of offending someone, of putting ourselves or our loved ones in danger, of the fatigue that is inevitable with this sort of heart-work that requires confrontation with a lot of things we’d rather ignore, in ourselves and the world.
Jesus anticipates and names aloud some of these fears that were probably racing through their hearts: You won’t know what to say (don’t worry, the Spirit’s got your back on this). You will upset people you love – that’s a part of the challenge of following the difficult life of faith he’s placing before us. No one promised following Jesus would mean taking the path of least resistance (in fact, it is often the opposite, just as it was for Jesus!). You will get attacked, verbally or even physically for standing up for the sort of peace that comes from justice.
But to all of that, Jesus says, you mustn’t let it cling to your heart as you go along your way. Don’t let it discourage you from the work of proclaiming the good news of God’s kingdom: a place where those on the margins, those in the slums, those in prison, those who are black, brown, indigenous, those who are queer – are provided all that they need, whether that is respect, safety, opportunity, and a sense of worth, or basic food, water, shelter, and healthcare. If you receive push-back, Jesus says, “shake the dust off your feet”; don’t carry that discouragement with you to the next place, but forge ahead doing the work you know you have been called and sent by Christ to do. Yes, you may suffer. But trust that your “suffering produces character, and character produces endurance, and endurance produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”
I’m grateful that Jesus decides to address and confront these fears head on. Though seeing them all laid out like that instills some dread in my heart, there is also something so powerful about naming our fears. Sometimes naming fears is the first step in moving past them, because naming them takes away some of their power, and knowing to expect them allows us to prepare ourselves for them.
Naming is important, but even more important is the word of hope and comfort that Jesus offers them in the midst of it: “Have no fear,” he says, three times, in the same conversation but just a few verses after today’s reading ends. Jesus has lived through what he is asking them, and us, to face – the persecution, the rejection, even the violence eventually – and so he speaks from experience. “Have no fear,” he assures them. “Instead, have faith, because God is going to win in the end. Even the hairs on your head are counted. If God knows you and cares for you enough to know that, then you have no reason to fear!”
So have no fear, friends in Christ. Know that pain and conflict and failure will inevitably happen along the journey on which we are sent – whether that is working toward justice, or seeking forgiveness for yourself or another, or standing up for what you know is right. But that pain and trepidation is not the end. The end – and the beginning and all the way through – is God’s promise that no amount of brokenness can ever be stronger than the power of our Lord Jesus Christ to overcome fear and death with love and life.
Let us pray… Gracious and loving God, our fears threaten to keep us from the important mission on which you send us. Help us to trust that you are with us along the way, equipping us with all that we need for what is before us. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Full service can be viewed HERE.
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