Pentecost 6 B – Independence & Interdependence

Dear Partner in Preaching,

Anyone interested in talking about prejudice and racism this Sunday? What about gay marriage?

My guess is that a few – probably a very few – of us can’t wait to talk about just these things because they are passions of ours. My other guess is that most of us would rather not. And that we’ve got lots of very good reasons not to. These issues are too controversial, too painful, too divisive. And, perhaps above and beyond these reasons, we know that people don’t come to church to talk about these things.

But here’s the thing: People are talking about them. With friends, with family members, with co-workers. In fact, because of the shootings in Charleston two weeks ago and the Supreme Court verdict last week, our folks are talking about just these things lots of places…just not at church. Which makes me wonder if our people experience church as a place to go where you don’t have to talk about these kinds of difficult things, or whether church is the place you end up talking about lots of things that don’t seem to matter in daily life.

I have this feeling that more than our people than we might imagine actually wouldn’t mind having church be a place where you can talk about some of the hard things going on in life and in the news. Not the place where you’re told what to think or how to vote, mind you, but where we take the task of Christian formation seriously enough to offer perspectives on how the Scriptures and our faith help us navigate this very challenging world.

Which is really the reason I’m bringing all this up – not simply because there are huge issues in the news right now that our people are talking about, but also – and more importantly – because the Gospel passage appointed for this week has a lot to tell us about what it means to be a disciple, a disciple in a challenging, difficult, confusing, and at times painful world which is also and simultaneously a place of beauty and wonder and beloved of God.

While there are various elements in what amounts to two connected scenes – Jesus’ preaching in his hometown and then sending his disciples out – there is between them a fascinating movement and even transformation in the relationship between Jesus and his disciples. By the end of these scenes, the disciples are no longer observers, they are no longer just followers. Discipleship, as it turns out, is not just about learning from and following another, but also taking on the role and authority of the one you follow.

What I find fascinating in the first scene is the treatment Jesus receives from his neighbors and hometown friends. Why such disdain? Perhaps it’s just that familiarity does indeed breed contempt. But perhaps it’s also that we have such a hard time receiving grace from unexpected places. Jesus wasn’t what they expected a prophet, let alone a Messiah, to look like. And to accept him as such was to call into question much of what they thought they knew about the world and about people and about themselves.

Isn’t that also what is so difficult when we talk about perceptions of those who are different from us? Whether they are different in terms of their age or occupation or economic status or race or ethnicity or sexual orientation, we tend to have a construct about how people should be and when we meet someone who differs from that we often find it threatening.

In this case, it’s not that Jesus is different from them – he was one of them! – it’s that he’s different from what they think a prophet should be. And so rather than revise their expectations, they dismiss him. Indeed, when Mark reports that they name him according to his mother and brothers and sisters (who knew Jesus had such a large family?!) but omitted naming his father, one wonders if they weren’t calling his legitimacy into question, trying to taint him in his person to dismiss his proclamation.

All too often, we are tempted to do the same, reducing someone who challenges us to a single attribute about that person – whether skin color or age or orientation – in order to dismiss them and thereby fail to receive the totality of the person God has created and redeemed and offered to us as a gift.

I think it’s interesting to notice what does Jesus does in response. First, he cures a few folks but then seems almost unable to do any great work of power because they have no interest in receiving what he offers. And so he then commissions his disciples to go out. This mission to announce the kingdom and share God’s love, as it turns out, will take more than just one miracle worker, it will take a team of people empowered, equipped, and sent to witness to God’s grace, justice, and mercy.

And notice that when the disciples are sent out, they are sent out to live utterly dependent on the grace and hospitality of others. They are not to take everything they need, but to invite others into their mission…and into their lives. Which is interesting, because while Jesus had just been on the receiving end of an extreme lack of hospitality, yet he knows that the human community he is forming has at its core the interdependence, mutuality, and utter vulnerability that true hospitality simultaneously demands and creates.

Which might be a place to move in our sermons this week. Yes, it’s difficult to talk about prejudice and racism because it hits too close to home. Some bear the scars of prejudice, while others fear being accused of it. And, yes, it’s frightening to contemplate changing moral values or, more accurately, noting our changed sense of what really is moral and true. And, yes, in the face of these challenges it can be really, really tempting to want to keep things the same, gather with those who look and think like us, and draw the boundaries of who’s in and who’s out a little tighter.

And yet deep down we know that this is not what God calls us to. Every time you draw a line, in fact, between who’s in and who’s out, you can bet you’ll find Jesus on the other side. And the steps we may take – the steps most of us actually want to take – toward greater acceptance, even when it means uncomfortable moments and difficult conversations – are easier to take when we don’t walk this path alone. And so we turn for help and courage to Jesus, the one who still sends disciples out equipped with the power to face down the unclean spirits of prejudice and racism in whatever form they appear. And we take these steps together, because that’s what it means to be the Body of Christ.

I am writing this letter to you in anticipation of the July 4th weekend and celebrations, and those of you living in the U.S. will you’ll be preaching a day after all that as well. Might we this week, Dear Partner, invite our people to independence from the idea that we have to go it alone, that we can only rely on ourselves and those just like us, that we cannot grow or change without losing something dear to us. Jesus is still sending out disciples, still inviting us to do great things together, still calling us to discover independence through interdependence and strength through vulnerability. This can still be a hard message to hear, and so I pray God’s gifts of courage and grace as you announce the good news in your communities and neighborhoods.

Yours in Christ,
David