July 3-4, 2010
6th Sunday after Pentecost
Luke 10:1-11, 16-20
Salem Lutheran Church
Sycamore, Illinois
Many of you will know that I spent this last week at confirmation camp with 65 8th graders soon to be 9th graders and a dozen other leaders from 7 congregations. Here's how it works at confirmation camp. Our kids travel light. This is not to say that they don't pack a lot into their suitcases before they leave home, but once they leave their rooms in the morning, they don't have anything with them. Oh they carry their energy, their hearts, their voices, their faith. But not the schedule of the week's events which we put in their hands on Sunday nights. And not any way to tell time, for you see, their cell phones --- if they bring them at all --- are taken away --- only to come out at evening free time for a quick call home if they wish.
So as I said, they travel light. First thing in the morning, we make our way together down the hill to breakfast. They follow the group as we walk over to another building for the morning session and then sit down with their Care Group for a discussion of what was learned. They travel together to their Discovery Zone and then join up with the whole group again for lunch. This entire time they simply trust that someone else will guide them to where they will go next and that when free time rolls around in the afternoon, there will be an adult nearby to tell them when it's almost time to wrap things up and join the large group again for song time and for supper.
Seriously. I looked. I don't think most kids wear watches anymore and from what I can tell they can't read the time by looking at the position of the sun in the sky, so if they had any hope of being in the right place at the right time, they had to rely on others for more than five days.
I imagine that's part of being a kid… even so, it is precisely that kind of trust that Jesus sends us out with in our Gospel lesson today… travel light, he says, for you don't need much as long as you look to the one who will guide you. Bring your hearts, your voices, your enthusiasm, your faith, your deep trust in God… and that's about all. And as we hear today, it's not the arms on the clock we are to look at to see when it's time to move on or stay in one particular place. Rather it's the reaction of those we've been sent to: whether it be open hearts of welcome or the closed doors of rejection.
And while we are traveling light as we go, it is still a remarkable gift we're called to bring the world, really... and it's not finally something you could pack in a suitcase or carry in your pocket anyway. I mean, think about it. Jesus says today that when we arrive, the gift we are sent with is the first words out of our mouths which are to be "Peace be with you." And this is not just a fancy way of saying "Good Morning." This is a way of saying that God is here. This is a way of reminding anyone who might be listening that this God is a powerful God. That ours is a God who brings peace where there is strife, wholeness where it's broken, healing where it is sick, life where there is only death. Indeed, Jesus tells them and us that we can travel light… for the messenger will be cared for as that simple and profound message is shared… our concern should be for those people we're sent to with this message of peace…
. No indeed, Jesus is offering instructions here which clear the way for these seventy followers to be effective in their call to go ahead of him to announce God's own peace. Knowing that the resistance of others is nothing at all compared to what we often carry within us that can get in the way.
And so the first question for us today is what's weighing us down that we can't or don't speak God's message of peace… What would Jesus tell us to leave behind today as we make our way to share this good news? Is it a too full calendar? Is it the very watch on our wrist that keeps calling us to look to where we think we are supposed to be next instead of paying attention to what's right before us? Is it such a sense of confidence in our own abilities to take care of ourselves that we don't or can't pick up our heads enough to realize that God provides it all anyway? Is it fear of what we stand to lose? What is it that is weighing us down that keeps us from simply turning to a neighbor, a friend, a co-worker, a family member and saying simply: God's love is meant for you. For you.
For the most part 65 8th graders at confirmation camp did all right without their usual ways of telling time this week… except on Tuesday afternoon? About a dozen of them walked in fifteen minutes late for song time. One of the pastors had just been sent out to search for them when they came sauntering in… they had been playing… and they claimed, and I have seen this to be true, that they couldn't read the time on the clocks that hang in the public spaces in the buildings at Augustana College. They're not digital, of course… the hands of a clock are entirely foreign to them.
So just as it's true that this journey we are called to will be a gift to those who hear God's message of peace, it will also be a gift to all of us as we find ourselves needing to go deeper… learning to learn new ways to listen so that we can trust and follow the signs of God. Not so much in telling time, but in learning to tell God's time.
Now it's true that most of us won't get sent out in quite the same way those first disciples were… rather, we will find ourselves unexpectedly in the middle of our lives with the opportunity to speak this word of peace. I'm pretty certain it happens every day, but it happened to me late on Friday in a way I couldn't ignore. I don't know if I did it right, but this is what happened.
I stopped at Wal Mart on my way back into town. I had cleaned out my refrigerator before I left last week-end and I knew for sure there was no milk for my morning cereal. So I parked my car, grabbed a cart, and moved as quickly as I could through the holiday week-end shoppers. I was tired, to be sure, and so it rather startled me when I went to check out and the young man named Ross at the cash register looked at my camp shirt and asked me what church that was. I told him it was a camp shirt, actually, that I was just back in town from a week with 8th graders. I went on to tell him I'm the pastor at Salem Lutheran --- just down the street. He nodded and told me he was interested in such things… "Although, I'm Jewish," he said. "And I'm more analytical than I am a believer." All the while he's piling my groceries into bags as he went on to say that he doesn't know why people fight about religion, for in his opinion, they're more alike than not. I said, well, yes, we do all come from the same beginnings in our faith… and it's true that all three major world religions do worship a God of love. By now the line was backing up and I'd punched my pin number in the keypad. He told me to have a nice day and I thanked him and wished him the same.
Was a message of peace shared? I hope so… although I found that his open curiosity about the logo on my t-shirt was as much a gift as any words between us. Was I ready to do and be more in that moment? Should I have said more? Perhaps, I'm not sure. Either way, what it did make me realize anew was that wherever we go, we are messengers of peace. We are those who follow and we are those who go before Jesus preparing the way that all people might know that wholeness which only he can bring.
So yes, I do find I'm also still learning to tell time. And more than that, I need to be reminded that God's time is right now as we are sent out on this peace-sharing journey. We're called to step out each day with hearts open and willing to trust that God will show us when and where and how. And to listen deeply so as to speak the right words to the one whose world we find ourselves stepping into. We don't have to pack much for this journey. Just open hearts and minds and spirits. And a willingness to engage a little more deeply those who cross our paths, remembering we have something life changing to give them. For their sakes and ours. And more than that for Jesus' sake and the world he so loves. Amen.