Sermon for Pentecost 2—Year A 2017
Easier Said Than Done
Jesus makes it look so easy, right?
He goes to all the cities and villages,
he preaches in all the synagogues,
and cures every disease and sickness.
No distance is too great,
no audience is too skeptical,
no ailment too severe.
Jesus gets it done.
But for those of us who follow in his footsteps,
it seems it’s easier said than done.
Didn’t it feel great to say earlier—
“Everything that the Lord has said we will do”--?
I don’t know about you, but the last time I took a good look,
I haven’t exactly done everything that the Lord said to do—
And that’s just the Ten Commandments.
Now Jesus is summoning his disciples,
sending them out not just to proclaim the good news,
but to “cure the sick, raise, the dead,
cleanse the lepers,
and cast out demons.”
That’s not even easy to say, let alone to get done!
What part of this passage makes you think twice
about being sent out to proclaim the good news?
What alarms you?
Maybe for you it’s the part about giving without payment;
or being told not to take any money or provisions for your journey, no change of clothes or sandals.
How do you feel about going into the homes of strangers,
risking rejection and perhaps even abuse?
If you are welcomed, you are to stay regardless of whether the accommodations are good or not so good—
If you are not welcomed, you’re only response is to withdraw your offer of peace—leaving no recriminations,
only the dust off your feet.
On the other hand, perhaps you are more excited
than alarmed by these sending orders of Jesus.
This is one of those bible passages that forces us to acknowledge the gap between the ideal and the real—
and then to take a major leap of faith in our own discipleship.
Actually, I think that is what Jesus is urging
or challenging us to do—to take a leap of faith,
to risk something in preaching the gospel with our lives.
Just as that list of disciples were sent out to towns in ancient Israel,
the disciples of Jesus today are challenged
to take little more than our faith out into this world
and be the hands of Christ—bringing life-giving
compassion, hope, forgiveness and peacemaking
into desperate situations and circumstances.
That is what faith is for.
“Faith was never intended to be a destination, a status, a holding tank, or a warehouse,” writes Brian McLaren in his book
We Make the Road By Walking.
“Instead, [faith] was to be a road, a path, a way out of old and destructive patterns into new and creative ones.”
Faith is about the discovery and quest for “aliveness.”
The quest for “aliveness” is what makes chefs cook,
farmers till, singers sing, runners run, and dancers dance.
Aliveness is what everyone is hoping for when we pray.
But aliveness is always under threat—
certainly by forces outside us, but just as much by forces within us.
One of the greatest forces that threaten our “aliveness”
in Christis fear . . . fear of the unknown,
fear of failure, fear of the other, fear of death,
fear of embarrassment, fear of losing,
. . . the list of our fears go on and on.
We tend to live out of our fears
more than we live out of our hopes.
And perhaps that’s it, right there—
we are afraid that we will be disappointed,
that we will loose our faith
when things don’t go exactly as we would like them to.
We write a script and expect that God and life
will follow it just or very closely to as we have written it.
We forget that faith is not a destination—
That faith is a road, a path, a way out
of old and destructive patterns into new and creative ones.
What’s that?
Did I hear you say that’s easier said than done?
Well, of course, you’re right.
But nothing really worth doing,
truly worth giving your life to is easy.
At this point in the Jesus story,
he seems to make it all look easy,
but we know things are going to get rough and difficult
as Jesus walks the road and makes his way to Jerusalem.
The really comforting thing,
the good news is thateven when his disciples are weak
and get it all wrong,
God proves his love for us –
because while we are yet sinners Christ died for us.
Out of our old and destructive patterns,
Christ brings new and creative ones.
Earlier this week, I heard about a man
who had a fairly predictable and good life.
Max was employed by Google,
surrounded by friends and had his routine nailed down.
He woke to artisanal coffee,
biked to work along the beautiful waterfront roadway,
lunched on Google's famed free food
("like four different kinds of kale" level)
and — possibly the true mark of a successful millennial —
got invited to many happy hours.
But something was missing.
Sometimes Max would lay awake at night pondering
what felt so ... wrong.
"I just started thinking about these loops that we get into," he says. "And about how the structure of your life ...
completely determines what happens in it."
Max's once beautiful routine suddenly seemed unfulfilling.
He felt like he was growing closer to people in his own bubble
and becoming isolated from those outside of it.
"There was something ... that just made me feel trapped," he says. "Like I was reading a story that I'd read before
or I was playing out someone else's script."
So Max, like any good computer geek would do,
designed a program—what is called an “app”—
that would choose places to visit.
He couldn't select a drop-off location;
the app would choose a spot within a range without disclosing it. The only thing the rider had to do was enjoy the journey —
and hope for a good destination.
From there, Max's applications became more complex.
He built an app that used a Facebook search function
for public events to find ones near him.
Then the app would randomly choose
which event Max would attend.
At first, he was nervous: What if people wouldn't let him in?
But, as a kind of unassuming white guy,
he actually didn't have this problem.
Once Max explained how and why he had arrived at these events, hosts usually welcomed him,
often with only a few questions asked.
Most of the time,
people were taken by the idea of Max expanding his bubble.
One night, he got to drink white Russians with some Russians. Another, he attended acroyoga (as in, acrobatics + yoga).
A community center pancake breakfast.
A networking event for young professionals.
The algorithm chose; Max attended.
Most of these events were something
that the nonrandomized Max wouldneverhave thought to try.
The computer was breaking him out of a life
driven by his own preferences.
He was suddenly seeing the world in a whole new way,
and he really liked it.
Talk about a road, a path,
a way out of old patterns into new and creative ones!
What if we were to let the Spirit lead us to “expand the bubble” in which we live?
What if we were to let the Spirit guide us into seeing the world in a whole new way—not being driven by our own preferences?
What if we the church burst static, let-them-come-to-us bubble
and we boldlywent out into the world that God loves so passionately,
sharing what God has given us
with those who have not yet heard God speaking to them,
or felt the touch of God's love upon their lives,
or have not known how to name either one?
Jesus didn't sit still but traveled about,
curing and teaching and healing,
and when he saw the hunger and need and confusion
of the harassed and helpless, he felt profound compassion for them. Jesus bothmovedandwasmoved.
Jesus summons us, to see the need of the world,
its hungers and confusion,
and like Jesus, we're sent to respond
with compassion and tender care.
And it also seems that we are called not to sit still
but, like Jesus, to be on the move,
open to those we meet along the way—
all those who are longing and seeking to be fully alive,
those who know that something is missing,
something is . . . wrong.
God will work through you and
God will make the road with you as you walk.
Faith is not a destination, a status, a holding tank, or a warehouse.
Faith is a road, a path, a way out of old and destructive patterns into new and creative ones.
Faith—as Martin Luther said—
is a living daring confidence in God’s grace,
so sure and certain that a person could stake their life
on it a thousand times.
Easier said than done?
Jesus, at least with his help,
seems to think we can get the job done,
even if it will not be easy.
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