The Things We Take With Us

July 5, 2015

Mark 6:1-13
¹Jesus left that place and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. ²On the sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. They said, "Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands! ³Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?" And they took offense at him. ⁴Then Jesus said to them, "Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house." ⁵And he could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. ⁶And he was amazed at their unbelief.

Then he went about among the villages teaching. ⁷He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits.⁸He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; ⁹but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. ¹⁰He said to them, "Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. ¹¹If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them." ¹²So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. ¹³They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.

Sermon: “The Things We Take with Us”

I’d like to start this morning’s sermon with a little test. (Don’t worry, it’s simple.)  Basically, I want to find out if any of you are as nerdy as I am.

Raise your hand if you have ever watched Doctor Who?

If you raised your hand, congratulations, you are a nerd like me.  If you didn’t raise your hand, let me assure you, you will become much more nerdy by the end of this sermon!

I love the British show Doctor Who.  It is about a time traveler, inexplicably named “The Doctor,” who constantly saves the world from aliens.  (Nerdy, much?) He himself is an alien too, the last of his kind, the time lords.  He has a time machine (naturally), and travels throughout space and time with a human companion.  He’s quite fond of the earth, and feels compelled to constantly protect it.

That job, as you might expect, makes him lot of enemies.  But he has one enemy greater than all the rest: the daleks.  The daleks are a little ridiculous.  They sort of look like an angry R2D2, or an oversized cheese grater with a plunger attached.  But they’re supposed to be terrifying.  They are the Doctor’s greatest threat because the daleks believe themselves to be the only pure race.  They want to kill every other form of life.  They don’t use the word kill, though.  They use the word “exterminate.”  (It’s not a stretch to recognize the historical themes present in Doctor Who.)  Exterminate.  It’s the harshest word in the Doctor’s world.

There’s a very similar harsh word in our gospel reading this morning.  Ektinaxate.  It’s the Greek word meaning, “shake off.”  When Jesus sends out his disciples two by two, he tells them to travel light.  No extra tunic, no food, no money, no bag.  Just a good walking stick.  They’re told to go to a place and, if they are not welcomed there, to “shake the dust off their feet as a testimony against them,” and move on.  Ektinaxate.  It sounds a bit harsh, but if we’re honest with ourselves, it also sounds really appealing.

You see, we all have a bit of that dalek inclination in us.  We call that sin.  We all have a tendency towards seeing others as a threat; a desire to keep to our own, however we define that through politics, theology, economic status or race.  And so, ektinaxate, shaking the dust off our feet when we are afraid of being threatened, is attractive. 

We’ve all done it: decided someone wasn’t worth our effort anymore.  In college, there was one person I treated this way.  We were in the same dance class.  She would always come and tower over me, saying really patronizing things about my size.  I decided that I Did Not Like Her.  I decided that everyone is entitled to write someone off.  I shook the dust off my feet. 

And then, one day, the Christian organization I was a part of was welcoming new members, and assigning them to Bible study groups.  I led one of those groups.  As one name was called, I thought it sounded familiar.  And then, standing before me was that same person, the one I had decided to write off.  She gave me a big hug and said she was so glad to be a part of my group.  She ended up being a great friend, and I learned all of the deep insecurities that led to her being so hurtful to me.  I had decided to shake her off.  God had other plans. 

We can’t just read this text in Mark as Jesus’ permission to write people out of our lives, to exterminate our sense of guilt, and move on. 

Because when we read this text that way, we’re taking things with us Jesus never told us to bring.  Remember Jesus told his disciples to travel light, taking only sandals, the clothes on their back, and a staff.  He didn’t tell them to take superiority.  He didn’t tell them to take the need to be right.  He didn’t tell them to take the need to prove themselves, or to save themselves from hurt. 

Mostly, he told them to take the gospel.  And a large part of the gospel is that, in Jesus Christ, God came and moved into the neighborhood, to be one of us. 

Hospitality is central to the gospel.  Those disciples were sent to go to strangers, and seek hospitality. They were called to reject self-sufficiency and create community wherever they went, modeling for those they met the kind of incarnational community God brings.

Sometimes, Jesus told them, the disciples wouldn’t be treated well.  Sometimes, people would slam the door in their face.  When that happened, they were to then shake the dust off their feet.  Ektinaxate. 

It’s been helpfully pointed out that hospitality in Jesus’ time would always begin with washing the feet of guests when they came in your home, an act that showed they were now under your care.  The disciples were told to shake the dust off their sandals because there was dust to shake off!  Their feet had not been washed.  They had not been welcomed.  The presence of the dust itself showed the lack of hospitality.  It was time to move on.

Sometimes, in life, it is time to ektinaxate, shake the dust off our feet, and move on.  But we should be careful about our motives.  Do we shake the dust off because, along with the gospel, we have also brought the need to argue, or prove our rightness, or show our spiritual superiority?  Do we shake the dust off because we’d like to avoid confrontation and the difficult conversations reconciliation – the very heart of the gospel -- demands of us?

We need to be careful that we do not become too dalek, too obsessed with our own rightness, that our first impulse is ektinaxate, shaking off all that seems threatening or different. 

If we truly proclaim the gospel with our lives, going together, taking little with us, relying heavily on the guidance of God’s spirit and the hospitality of strangers, there will be very few occasions in which we need to shake the dust off our feet.  And even then, as we admit that we can do no more, we still pray that God would work in ways we cannot.  We see in Mark that, even when he was rejected in his hometown, Jesus still healed a few people and did what he could there before moving on.

Who have you decided you’d like to “shake off?”  Does God agree with you? 

And perhaps just as importantly, have we shown the hospitality of the gospel to those who come to our door seeking refuge?  Or have we left dust on their feet, too busy tending to our own needs and desires and arguments?  Have they shaken us off as a result?

Shaking the dust off is easy.  We do it all the time, without even realizing it.  Staying, and creating community, being reconciled, bringing the kingdom of God on earth, is much harder.  It requires relying on others.  It requires vulnerability.  And we fear that most of all.

One of the Doctor’s companions, Clara, speaks to him when he’s afraid as a little boy (time travel, remember), scared of monsters under the bed.  She says, “Fear doesn't have to make you cruel or cowardly…fear can make you kind. It doesn't matter if there’s nothing under the bed or in the dark, so long as you know it's ok to be afraid of it. So, listen. If you listen to nothing else, listen to this. You're always going to be afraid, even if you learn to hide it. Fear is like…a companion. A constant companion, always there. But that's ok. Because fear can bring us together. Fear can bring you home.”

You can bet Jesus’ disciples were terrified of being sent into the world with nothing but the gospel and a walking stick.  But that fear didn’t stop them from discovering home among strangers.  It didn’t stop them from telling the story that brought all of us here today.  And even when they had to shake the dust off their feet every now and then, they found the courage to keep going, sharing the gospel of hospitality wherever they went: that God made a home among us in Jesus Christ, and still does. 

Wherever strangers become family, wherever wanderers’ feet are washed clean with love, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in a roof over someone’s head and food for their journey, Jesus is making a home among us, once more.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.