Two By Two

Jesus went about among the villages teaching. He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits.  He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. He said to them, "Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. If 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."  So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent.  They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.   Mark 6:6-13  

Today Mark’s gospel remembers the first time that Jesus sent his disciples out on a missionary journey.  And what did he tell his disciples to do? 

He sent them out to meet new people on the road….  He told them to give each person a message: The kingdom of God has come near you…. He told them to pray for the sick and heal the troubled.    

It sounds like those people who come through my front gate, who ring my doorbell to share their faith, are just following Jesus’ instructions: Go meet new people, and tell them the good news. 

(It’s hard enough to open my door, to be kind to my visitors – who are strangers to me – and then politely say good-bye; how could I ever go door-to-door to share my faith?)

But the gospel says that Jesus’ disciples came back to tell him that many people received their message, and many were healed.  They had followed Jesus’ directions:  

            Take nothing for your journey.

            Dress simply.
            Stay with people in their homes.
            Tell them your good news.
            And always go two by two.

So today, I’m trying to imagine going off on a journey, sent by Jesus, following his directions.  I’m not trying to turn into a door-to-door salesman, going off to talk to people we’ve never met.   No, I’m picturing someone I know already – someone I care for, someone I’d like to comfort, someone who needs to hear good news.   

Everyone here knows someone who is asking questions about their faith. It could be one of your children…  It could be a good friend or a close neighbor….  It could be one of your grandchildren…. 

There are times in life when everyone has questions –  when we’re small children, first exploring the world;  when we’re adolescents, first stretching our growing minds; when we’re first retired and beginning to wonder about the rest of our lives; and any time trouble strikes – these are the times we need good news. 

So with a picture of someone in your mind, listen again to Jesus’ directions:

He says, take nothing for the journey –  because then you’ll have to depend on others.   Remember you aren’t the only person with something to give – everyone you meet will have something to share with you.    

Dress very simply – because dressing up may put distance between you and others.  You won’t want to wear – or say – anything that keeps you from getting to know people.      

Stay with people, accept their hospitality – because that’s the way you’ll get to know them; that’s the way people learn about each other, by sharing space with each other.    

Go two by two – because if you go with a friend, you’ll be able to help each other – and because Jesus said, “When two or three are gathered together, I will be there with you.”  You won’t be alone; the Spirit will be with you.  (Matthew 18:20)

And  once you’ve gotten to know someone – by staying with them, by listening to them, by loving them – then you can tell them your good news, because that’s your gift for others – what’s happened to you.

A modern missionary journey:  I have a friend who decided, when he was about 70 years old, to write a letter to his children.  He had five adult children, all with children of their own, and he wanted them to know what his faith meant to him now that he was getting old.  Especially, he wanted his children (and his grandchildren) to know what had helped him through the years, whenever his life had been difficult.    

It took my friend a very long time to write his letter. First, he had to find the words to describe what he had learned from life, and then he had to find the words to tell them what he believed about God.  But even after he found the words to express himself, he had to ask what those words might mean to each of his very different children.  All of his children had grown up in the Episcopal Church, but now one child was a Presbyterian.  One was an Evangelical.  One was a Mormon.  One had a strong faith in God, but didn’t have a church. And one was an adamant atheist.  What words could he write, what words could share his faith without trying to impose it on them?   

It took him more weeks to re-write his letter. And then, before he mailed his letters, he took copies to a couple of friends – and he asked them, “I’m trying to tell my children what life has taught me, and what my faith means to me.  Will you read this letter and tell me what you think?” 

My friend was proceeding two-by-two.  That is, he didn’t write his letter all by himself.  He tried to listen to the Spirit speaking in his heart; and he went to others, to hear their thoughts and ideas.

It’s been more than ten years since my friend mailed the final version of his letter to his children.  I called him yesterday afternoon, to find out what had happened with his children in the years since his letter was mailed.  (He’s now 82 years old, and the first thing he told me was that he’s thinking about writing a new letter to his children.)

As we talked, he remembered what each of his children had said when they received the letter – and what had happened when they had read it to their own children.   But this is what really struck me yesterday:  As he talked about each of his children, he remembered what he had learned from them. And when he spoke about each of his children, one by one, he said that each was still growing in his or her own way.  It was clear, from his words and his voice, that his letter had begun a conversation about faith, a family conversation that still continues today.  

Isn’t that what Jesus is really asking his disciples?  Start your own conversation about faith.  Go out into your life – and get to know the people in it.  Love those people; give what you can to them; receive what they have to give you; try to bring them healing – and always remember, as you walk through your life, that you’re never alone on your journey.

And whenever the time is right for someone,

share the good news with them: 

You are never alone; God is always with you.

A homily preached at St. Benedict’s Episcopal Church on July 8, 2012