Jesus and being sent and stuffs.
Luke 10:1-20; Galatians 6:1-6; Psalm 66:1-9; Isaiah 66:10-14
When I was in high school, I participated in some construction work through Habitat for Humanity. Several of my fellow students and I, during a “back-to-school” kind of thing went out and did several things throughout the Salt Lake Valley, including this one day building a house. Now, when I was in high school, and even now, much of my time was spent in front of a computer screen. Back then, about all I knew about a hammer was that it hurt when I hit my thumb with it. Granted, I don’t know much more than that now, but I’m at least mildly functional.
Anyways, we get to the Habitat site, and they immediately assigned the group of us jobs. My friend Robbie and I were assigned to install some sliding doors for a closet. Needless to say, neither of us had ever done this before, and there were, of course, no instructions to speak of. So we fumbled around with these doors for a while, trying one thing here and another thing there, until we finally got them to (mostly) open and close (not necessarily with ease, but they were functional). We had accomplished something we never knew we could do, and it felt pretty good!
Robbie and I found ourselves in a situation where we had instruction, but told to run with it and make it happen. I’m sure we’ve all been there at some point; it’s really not the best of feelings, though. At first you’re rather shocked, thinking, There’s no way I can do this; it’s all new and intimidating. Then, as you start to look at it, you realize it’s probably not as hard as you thought. By the time you’re finished, you’re left feeling a sense of accomplishment better than if you had done something you knew you could do all along.
I’d imagine the 72 disciples that Jesus sent out in our gospel lesson felt similar. At this point, it’s rather early on in Jesus’ ministry. Sure, he had sent out the Twelve Apostles with similar instructions a bit early, but there’s nothing to show that the Twelve were sent along, too. These 72 served as Jesus’ vanguard, basically preparing the next town for Jesus to show up. Jesus gave them a few instructions (don’t take a purse or bag; don’t greet anyone as you travel; stay in one house if you’re welcomed, but leave the town if you’re not) but he also said “I am sending you out like lambs among wolves.”
At this point, if I were one of these 72, I’d be a little worried. Everyone knows, including folk that know nothing about lambs or wolves, that wolves like to eat lambs. I remember an old cartoon about a wolf and a sheepdog going trying to outsmart one another so the wolves can have a nice lamb dinner, which, as one who really enjoys lamb dinners, I can’t fault the wolf for one bit. So imagine if it’s just you and your fellow lamb buddy among a whole pack of wolves; I think the word for that is “lunch”.
So these 72 disciples, likely scared and worrying that they have no chance of getting this right, go out. But instead of failing at their task, they come back and say to Jesus, “Lord, even the demons submit to us in your name.” Their job was more successful than they ever imagined, and they almost didn’t know what to do about it.
When we think about talking to other people about Jesus, we often feel like we have no idea what we’re doing. We Lutherans don’t really have a “missionary tradition” to boost us in this regard. Maybe if we’re feeling especially motivated we’ll invite someone to church, but even then, we don’t talk about Jesus. There’s a lot of reason for this, but probably the biggest one is that we just don’t know how.
The trouble is, it’s still our job. Just like when Robbie and I were assigned to install a closet door, Jesus told us to “make disciples of all nations … teaching them to obey everything [he had] commanded [us].” That’s really not a whole lot of instruction. But just like installing a closet door is a lot easier than you’d think, so is telling people about Jesus.
In a lot of ways we make it harder than it should be. We worry about offending someone. We worry about saying the wrong thing or trying so hard to get it right that we don’t try at all. We worry that whoever we talk to will see us differently. These are all perfectly valid worries, and things that would keep us from doing our job, except for one minor detail – the Holy Spirit is working through as and in the people we talk to. We’re not doing it alone.
This may be a bit of a stretch, but did you notice that Jesus sent people out two-by-two? When the 72 went, they weren’t alone. This was also before the coming of the Holy Spirit, so they had a physical companion. Now, wherever we go, there is someone else with us. As we go about our lives, the Spirit’s presence in us is our companion. When we’re responsive to it, amazing things happen. Because when it comes to talking about Jesus, it’s not about saying the right thing or not causing offense. The Holy Spirit can and will use whatever we bring.
But the key thing is to, like the 72, just go out and do it. There’s a common misquote from St. Francis of Assisi that says that our actions should back up the gospel that we preach. Our lives should be as much a witness of what God has done for us as the things we say. It’s when the things we say and do match up that we are most effective, and people will notice. It’s up to us to trust the Spirit to grant us courage when God puts those opportunities in our way.