The Impossible Journey

Jesus sent his disciples out like sheep among wolves

© Seth Olson 2020
June 15, 2020—Second Sunday after Pentecost
Exodus 19:2-8a 

Psalm 100 

Romans 5:1-8 

Matthew 9:35-10:8(9-23)

View today’s sermon by clicking here (sermon begins at 16:05).

O God, let my words be your words, and when my words are not your words, let your people be cunning enough to know the same. Amen.


I love going on trips. I imagine I am not alone in loving to travel—you too may love leaving home for a few days. These months of the Coronavirus Pandemic have meant less travel throughout the world. It’s been awhile since I packed up a suitcase and prepared to go somewhere. But, whenever I have taken a journey in the past I have relished the opportunity not only to take a trip but also to get ready for that trip. Regardless of whether the journey is business or pleasure, I tend to live by the Scouts’ motto: “Be prepared”—I am an over-packer. In today’s Gospel lesson, Jesus was sending out his disciples on a business trip, but unlike a good scout the disciples were told to take nothing with them. Why?

Now sometimes in Gospel stories we find that Jesus does not provide us with particularly practical advice. Letting weeds grow up next to wheat, not building bigger facilities to house excess grain, or leaving 99 sheep to find a lost one—none of these morals are real-world instructions. For Jesus was not focused on what seemed wise according to the world, but instead he offered heaven-wise suggestions that would reveal God’s reign here on earth. So, what can we learn about God’s reign from the following packing list?

Take:
-No money
-No bag
-No extra clothes
-No backup shoes
-No staff for support or security

What does this tell us? If Jesus was not living by the Scouts’ motto and was not focused on doling out practical advice, what did these instructions have to do with God’s reign? As we ponder what Jesus was asking his disciples to do, it might be helpful to take a look at who he was sending out in the first place.

In today’s Gospel lesson we hear the word apostles, for the only time throughout Matthew’s Gospel account. Apostles means ones who are sent. The list of ones being sent out to proclaim the good news starts with Peter, the de facto leader, who would deny Jesus thrice, and it ends with Judas whose very name is synonymous with betrayal—I mean how many people named Judas do you know? These bookends tell us something. Plus, there is a set of brothers who bicker over who is better, Thomas whose very name is connected to doubting, Matthew, who was a symbol of oppression by the Roman occupiers, as he was a tax collector, and Simon the Canananean who was a radical anti-Roman zealot. This was not prudent, Jesus.

Jesus called weak leaders, traitorous weaklings, squabbling siblings, doubters, and clashing hotheads into his inner circle. Why not hire away the best marketer from the Roman Empire? Weren’t there some excellent preachers Jesus could have recruited from Jerusalem? This group of apostles was not the All-Star squad God incarnate should have put together to change the world. And on top of this, Jesus did not even give these ones he was sending the proper tools to succeed. How were they to complete their mission without the winning wardrobe or cash to buy a decent meal? Which gets us back to our earlier question: what did Jesus’ instructions to this rag-tag crew have to do with God’s reign?

Jesus called together a lackluster group of flawed human beings, then gave them a seemingly faulty set of instructions for entering their first mission as his disciples, and yet, as a result of them trusting Jesus, they helped spark a worldwide movement that is still going to this day. The disciples witness to us that when we have faith in God what is possible expands. God is calling us to readjust our perspective, our goals, and our view of what leads to success. We are to see on earth as it is in heaven.

If God can transform this motley group of disciples into the foundation of the Church, then what does this say to us as we face myriad obstacles? What does this story tell us as we confront the challenges of a global pandemic, a long overdue reckoning around racial injustice, a continuing environmental crisis, a financial recession, and the difficulty of saying goodbye to our beloved long-time rector who will soon be the 12th Bishop of Alabama? Can we overcome all of these challenges? Later in Matthew’s Gospel account Jesus will give us an answer, “For mortals it is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”[1]

With God all things are possible, but to realize this the disciples had to stop relying upon their own gifts and merits. The mission of those twelve was to proclaim good news, that the kingdom of heaven—God’s reign had come near. They were to be an extension of Jesus’ own ministry by curing the sick, raising the dead, cleansing lepers, and casting out demons. As if this does not sound difficult enough, Jesus used a metaphor to describe their mission: “I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves.” There were beatings, court proceedings, and households divided. In the midst of this, the apostles were not to have prepared stump speeches, rather they were to rely upon God’s Spirit speaking through them. They were to trust that with God all things are possible.

I have a lot of J tendencies on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, which means I like to plan things out. I have to put “be spontaneous” onto my calendar for it to happen. Relying on the Spirit, especially relinquishing control in the moment sounds foolish at best—until I start to look back at heroes in our Faith. Moses relied on God to speak through him when facing Pharaoh and freeing God’s people from slavery.[2] The Apostles trusted God, as filled with the Holy Spirit after Pentecost they took Christ’s message to all parts of the known world.[3] During the Reformation leaders across Europe led by the Spirit decentralized the power of the Church, so that all could experience the grace of God.[4] Women like Hildegard, Theresa of Avila, and Julian of Norwich, were so far ahead of their time that we are still unpacking their Spirit-drenched, mystical works. The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. trusted the Spirit too. He was going to end his speech during the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom without telling the world about his dream until the Spirit spoke through Mahalia Jackson who pleaded, “Tell ‘em about the dream, Martin.”[5] We have to trust God, but that’s not easy.

It’s easy to look at the challenges we face today and to envision them as waves as tall as the Empire State Building ready to crash over us—on our own these are impossible to confront, but we are not alone. In all the challenges and changes we are facing today God is with us, but God calls us to trust. This means that we have to let go of the manifold items that might make us feel safe. We are not going to make it if we keep gripping ever-more-tightly to that which makes us feel secure and comfortable. How can we take hold of God’s hand if we are clinging to something else? Like those disciples who went out without anything, so they could trust God in everything, we must relinquish our own baggage too. And much of what we must put down is not items that will fit in a suitcase.

We must put down our institutional sexism, our systemic racism, our transphobia, and homophobia; our cynicism and self-righteousness; our overindulgent love of material goods; our lust for people, things, and experiences; our judgment of people because of their height, weight, age, income, or intellectual ability; our disregard for God’s Creation and those who come after us; our intractable political differences and perceived superiority because of our affiliations; our distrust of people who pray, vote, think, act, or live differently than we do. These items do not belong in our suitcases.

When we no longer rely on these proverbial security blankets, when diminish our reliance upon feeding our own egos, when we do not bring all the stuff that falsely causes us to believe we are superior to our neighbors, then we start to see our neighbor not as someone disconnected from us, but as one who is made in the image of God, just like us. And the only way we are going to confront the challenges of our day is united together with our neighbors. To love our neighbor as ourselves we first must put down all the luggage that causes us to think that we are somehow better than them. But, how?

We must start in prayer, as we move from the center of our own lives—that is we must contemplate the ultimate truth that God is God and we are not. We are made in God’s image, but are not God. Thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory—not mine.

Next, we must consciously take stock in our lives recognizing the excess baggage that we carry around with us. This takes introspection. It requires us to not only get out of our echo chambers, but to read, watch, and listen to authors, filmmakers, musicians, and thinkers that may make us uncomfortable with the way we have individually and collectively lived our lives.[6]

Then, we must repent or turn back to God and away from the thoughts, actions, and behaviors that have intentionally or unintentionally put us into positions of power or superiority over our neighbors. If we truly want to fulfill the mission of the Church—to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ[7]—then we must first unpack this baggage before we can proceed farther on this journey.

We are all called to come on a journey with Jesus. Alone it is an impossible trip, but we are not alone. On this way God calls us to let go of the baggage, which makes us believe we are better, superior, or independent from one another. On this impossible journey we are called to rely not on ourselves but on God who is three-in-one—perpetual, united diversity. We are going on an impossible journey, but with God all things are possible.


[1] See Matthew 19:26.
[2] See Exodus 4.
[3] See Acts starting in Chapter 2.
[4] Martin Luther, Thomas Cranmer, John Calvin, and others brought Scripture, Liturgy, and Theology to people in their own language.
[5] Gary Younge. “Martin Luther King: the story behind his 'I have a dream' speech.” The Guardian. [Written Aug. 09, 2013; Accessed June 14, 2020: https://www.theguardian.com/world/2013/aug/09/martin-luther-king-dream-speech-history].
[6] There are so many people and works from whom we as white people must learn, so that we may become allies to our fellow children of God who are people of color, but as pertains to learning about systemic racism I recommend starting here: https://www.npr.org/sections/codeswitch/2020/06/06/871023438/this-list-of-books-films-and-podcasts-about-racism-is-a-start-not-a-panacea.
[7] An Outline of the Faith: Commonly called the Catechsim. Book of Common Prayer, 855.

System Fail: On Golden Calves, Sexual Harassment Lawsuits, and World Cup Exits

When a system fails it is almost too easy to scapegoat one person.

If you have not read Exodus 32, you should. I don’t use the s-word often because it sounds awfully preachy (and what preacher wants to sound preachy?), but I do here because I believe it is that important. This is not because it will take you to some mystical height, nor because I think it is the secret to life, but rather because Exodus 32 is a classic case of what happens when a system fails. And, whether you know it or not, the systems that involve you—your family, your business, and even your church—could just as easily crumble. I mean it doesn’t take very long to look around and see systems failing as CEOs are fired, marriages fall apart, sexual harassment doesn't get reported, or soccer teams miss the World Cup (cough… cough… U.S. Men’s National Team…cough…cough). So, what can Exodus 32 teach us about systems failing? I’m so glad you asked.

First, let’s go over what happened in it. Moses delayed from coming down the mountain (singing: he’ll be coming down the mountain but not right now…), so the people got restless. The people turned to Aaron (the senior V.P. of Promised Land LLC) and said, “We don’t need that Moses guy. Why don’t you make us a new god to worship? That other one may have brought us safely out of Egypt, but we want something shiny and new and gold and preferably made by Apple!” (Okay, they didn't say that last part.) So Aaron caved under the pressure and he helped the people make a statue of a golden calf that they worshiped at the altar that Aaron subsequently built.

Well, God saw what happened and he was not all that happy. God told Moses to get to stepping down the mountain to deal with “your people”—not God’s people mind you. This is like when a wife says to her husband “your son”—who is really the son of both of them—is misbehaving. So after God raged and Moses convinced God to calm down Moses went down the mountain where Moses himself started to rage.

The people had so disappointed Moses that he found it hard not to show his true feelings. Moses saw the golden calf, people dancing and worshiping it, so he threw down the tablets—not iPads, but stone tablets with God's commandments written on them. This was just the start. Soon he took the golden calf and made it into a powdery drink and forced the Israelites to drink it—and you think your protein powder tastes bad! Now, here’s where it gets good and where we can see some clear parallels to all sorts of other system failures.

When Moses confronted Aaron to figure out what had happened the scapegoating and finger-pointing got really interesting. Aaron blamed the people who made him do it—“You know the people, that they are bent on evil.” They just so happened to give him all their gold and he threw it into the fire and out came a golden calf. This sounds like the high school kid who throws a massive party at his family’s home while his parents are away and when they return he says his friends made him do it...riiiight! Moses eventually goes scorched earth on the people employing the Levites to kill 3,000 Israelites who had turned to worship the golden calf. What is striking and tragic is that this did not have to happen in this way.

Multiple people and events all conspired to contribute to the failing of this system. Usually we want to point out the “scapegoat”—or to use a fancy Systems Theory word “identified patient”—that is the source of the problem within a family, a workplace, or a church. It was his problem or her problem or that issue was the source of our stress. Then, we fire them or get rid of the problem thinking everything will be all better. Think of when the failing team fires its coach. Soon we discover though that while getting rid of that person or problem momentarily “fixes” things soon someone or something else will swoop in to fill the void. The new coach wins a couple games, but the same problems may very well exist within the system. In the case of Exodus 32 multiple failings conspired to result in the idol worship and subsequent murderous rampage.

Aaron, Moses, the people, and even God had a hand in this tumultuous set of events. We quickly can see that Aaron lied about what happened trying to blame the people for his role in the idol making. The people though were trying to test out the system to see if Aaron and Moses were on the same page. They obviously were not. Moses though had a hand in the problem. He had been the intermediary between the Israelites and God for so long that they seemed lost without him—like when a church struggles to replace the beloved former rector who had been there for 20 years. God though seemingly does not step in, but distances himself from the problem when he won’t even say they are his people, but Moses’ people. So what do we learn from all this?

First, transitions in systems are really hard. They need to be handled with much care. When someone gets fired because he or she is the problem—watch out! When someone who is beloved leaves or retires—watch out! When secrets and rumors start piling up—watch out! When someone goes on sabbatical leaving a V.P. or associate in charge—watch out! These moments are hard and the system will test its limitations to see the strength of its leaders in particular. The more that leaders can share responsibilities within a system and empower the whole to function normally even when he or she is missing the more prepared that system will be for change.

Second, the more that leadership is open, transparent, peaceful, and unified the more health exists within the system. If Aaron had simply told the people that they had one God and that God delivered them from Egypt and was leading them to the Promised Land, chances are none of this would have happened. Instead he did something silly and covered up what happened with a lie. Sexual harassment, fraud, substance abuse, etc. cannot happen without a cover-up. Transparency is vastly important to the health of a system, as is leadership being on the same page about whatever issue comes up. Think of the kid who begs one parent, then the other for ice cream to see if one will give into her request.

Finally, scapegoating never solves the real problem. While there is always more to learn from stories like Exodus 32, this might be the most important lesson. In writing that statement I cannot help but think of the example of Jesus. He came to flip the scapegoating, sacrificial nature of religion on its head. Instead of thinking that we have to have someone to blame for whatever problem is at hand, Jesus willingly took on the scapegoat role to transform it and take away its ability to “fix” things. When Jesus spoke words of forgiveness while he was hanging from a torture device he showed the fallacy of this way of doing things. When God resurrected Jesus the scapegoat paradigm was deflated, as we see that it was not the scapegoat that was broken but the system itself. And yet, we still keep on trying to send someone out like the poor goats who had all of a community’s sins attached to it.

Systems are tough. They often veer into unhealthy behavior without conscious thought. The role of leaders in the 21^st Century has become so complicated because we live in a world of gotcha moments that are all about finding someone to blame for a particular problem. The successful systems now, like in ages past, will be able to navigate transitions without scapegoating individuals. They will also likely avoid making a golden calf to put in the place of God, blame others for doing so, and end up murdering many people as the solution. All of this to say, get it together U.S. Men's Soccer!

John 11:33-54: These signs are written so that you may come to believe in Christ Jesus.

At the end of his gospel account, John summarizes his purpose writing, “These [signs] are written so that you may come to believe.”  What does it mean to believe? What does believing look like? Or, who does believing look like?

Today’s gospel reading, which I have expanded to include most of yesterday’s story of Mary and Lazarus depicts two of three members of a family from Bethany. Martha, Mary, and Lazarus might just be belief personified at least according to John.

Before what we heard this afternoon, Martha hears that Jesus is near and does not wait in her household, but seeks out Jesus in the streets. The subsequent conversation enlightens the characteristics of a believer in the face of life and death.  Martha greets Jesus simultaneously challenging him and illuminating her belief in him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.” She longs to be reconnected with her brother, but thinks this will happen through the Resurrection on the last day. When Jesus makes a profound confession, “I am the Resurrection and the Life,” Martha is able to make a personal response looking Jesus in the eye and saying, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.” Martha takes one form of a believer, and when we confidently go out to meet our Lord we like Martha personify belief in Christ.

Mary is called by her sister to go and find Jesus. She does not hesitate to respond to this calling, as she gets up quickly and goes to him. The interaction that Mary and Jesus have depicts another way of believing. She uses the same words as her sister’s to greet Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Instead of following up with confident words of belief, she weeps. Mary’s response is not a display of disbelief, rather it is a glimpse of the inner pain that accompanies death and loss. Jesus does not tell her that Lazarus is in a better place, nor does he attempt to take away her pain with a cliché phrase of false comfort, nor does he make a theological statement, instead Christ joins in the weeping. Mary walks with Jesus to her brothers tomb to continue in her grief process, not knowing what will happen next. Mary, displays another form of a believer and when we weep in grief, frustration, or anger we again personify belief, and Christ weeps with us.

Lazarus does not seek out Jesus in the same way as his sisters, rather Jesus seeks him out. This interaction displays another shape of believing. In this story we may focus upon Lazarus’ natural death, yet it is also about his emotional/spiritual disconnection from his friend Jesus at the time of death. Jesus calls out Lazarus from the darkness of his tomb, and any doubt in Jesus as the Messiah is overcome when Lazarus shakes off all disconnection and death to respond to this call. Jesus calls the community to unbind him. Lazarus is a believer like his sisters, and I believe even in our disconnection and spiritual death we too personify belief.

Many believed through Jesus’ raising of Lazarus from the dead, but the Pharisees, the religious elite of the day, worried that Jesus would cause a revolt that would bring the Roman Empire’s wrath upon them. The Chief priests and Pharisees did not want to shake the status quo, as life was comfortable to them. More Roman troops would diminish the power that they had, so Caiaphas, speaking as the high priest, offered to his fellow temple leaders a solution. Instead of letting the believers of this upstart “Messiah” gain too much momentum and fervor, let us have this one man killed instead of our whole nation. What Caiaphas did not realize in this statement that he was prophesying in the name of the Almighty God. The death of Christ would call all the disparate Children of God together as One Body to believe in the Son that God sent to earth. What does it mean to believe?

To believe is to run out to meet our God. To believe is to weep when we are grief stricken and to know that Jesus weeps with us. To believe is even to be spiritually dead and to allow for Christ to raise us and for our community to unbind us. To believe is to see that even through the fear of losing the status quo and the systematic sin that took Christ to the Cross God’s Will is accomplished. These signs are written so that you may come to believe in Christ Jesus.