Jesus’ Eight-Point Sermon (July 4, 2010)

Today’s Gospel reading about Jesus sending out the seventy two-by-two brought to mind the view from our rental apartment in Harlem, which is directly across the street from an apartment that must belong to the Jehovah’s Witnesses because it’s always packed full of them.  In fact, from the view out our window, it sometimes seems like up to seventy young men are jammed into that tiny space (and since they’re Scriptural literalists, that might actually be the case)! 

But seriously, that’s the sort of Christian I imagine would be interested in passages like this one, in which Jesus instructs his followers to go from house to house spreading the Gospel.  Which may be why I’ve tended to avoid them in the past.

The sending out of the seventy disciples is actually a variation of an earlier passage in Luke’s Gospel in which Jesus sends out the twelve two-by-two with many of the same instructions he gives them here.  The number seventy might be reminiscent of the seventy elders that Moses appointed to help him with his work in the Old Testament book of Exodus; or it might be a symbol of the seventy nations that Christianity would spread out to (which would make it a sort of supplement to the sending of the twelve disciples in the earlier passage – twelve standing just for the twelve tribes of Israel, but seventy standing for all the Gentile Christians, too).

In any case, the passage gives us a glimpse into how Christianity spread so quickly in that first century.  Christians probably did knock on doors and even started house churches in some of those very homes they converted – some of these are the same house churches we read about in the New Testament book of Acts or Paul’s letters.

But unless you’re a Jehovah’s Witness, our reading can seem to carry little more than historical interest. 

On the other hand, you can also read this passage not so much as an advice manual for door-to-door evangelism, but as advice for life’s journey as a Christian, whether we chose to make knocking on doors a part of that journey or not (and I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that Episcopalians generally do not!).


By my count, there are eight pieces of advice that Jesus gives the seventy here, all of which are quite profound and some of which might be familiar or challenging.  Let me go through the eight that I found, with the caveat that each one of these could be its own sermon, there’s much more to them than I’ll be able to draw out.  (By the way, whenever the preachers in my church growing up announced that they had eight points to go through, it was an invitation for my eyes to glaze over; so I’m going to watch you very carefully!  I should also add that I won’t do what those pastors used to do, where after fifty-five minutes they’d be maybe be on point #4.)

Anyway, the first word of advice is to “carry no purse, no bag, no sandals” – in other words, travel lightly and carry no extra provisions.  That could mean living as spontaneously and unencumbered as you can, either by paring down your possessions or maybe paring down your fixed opinions and dogma – basically, the things that weigh you down both physically and spiritually.  Or carrying “no purse, no bag, no sandals” could also mean giving up the need to go provisioned into everything that you do; setting out unprepared can be a good thing, as the Gospels often remind us; it takes you more places (because you can never be prepared enough for some things), and it builds up your faith.

The second word of advice Jesus gives the seventy is to “greet no one on the road.”  This one seems kind of strange and rude at first, but I imagine that, in this context, it’s a way of saying Stay focused on what you set out to do.  Stay true to your ideals and don’t get too sidetracked from what you once wanted to be or to make of yourself.

The third word of instruction is to say “Peace to this house” upon first entering it.  To those early disciples, it might have been a way to assure your host that you posed no threat.  If we only did more of that when we met people – wishing them well rather than harm, assuring them we mean to help and build up rather than harm and tear down.  I know I can get on a high horse about this topic, but I can’t help but think of all the contentious newscasters and shrill bloggers out there who encourage us to wish one another’s homes anything but peace.  Which is a reminder that the world needs more people who begin their acquaintance with others with the words “Peace to this house.”

The fourth bit of advice is not to “move about from house to house” – a reminder that there’s often a wisdom to staying put, and wisdom to fighting the impulse to move on too quickly from a relationship, a job, a church or other community.

The fifth instruction is to “eat what is set before you” - or accept the generosity of others, even (and especially) when it’s not on your terms or exactly how you would have it done.  I’ll come back to that one shortly.

The sixth is to “cure the sick who are there,” which for us might mean, simply, Do good.  Give more of your money to charity.  Spend less time watching TV and more time listening to a friend who needs your support.  Join the outreach committee here at church.  It’s a small thing, but remember to buy something for the pantry every time you go grocery shopping; it not only helps the pantry, of course, but it also regularly puts you in mind of people who can’t freely shop like most of us can.

The seventh piece of advice is to say “The Kingdom of God has come near.”  Which means a lot of things in the Gospels, but is often, as perhaps here, another way of saying Live with hope and optimism, and look forward to what lies ahead in life and the world.

And finally, the eighth word is to “shake dust off your feet” when you’re rejected or unsuccessful, or, in other words: know when to give up and move on – and know how not to let your failures define you.

So see, that was painless - and nowhere close to fifty-five minutes!  But … at the risk of going just a little longer than I normally do, I want to close by reading something I came across this week that got me thinking about this passage in a new way.  It’s by a professor of Biblical studies somewhere out in the Midwest, and she’s commenting on this passage from Luke.

“Several years ago I asked seminary students to envision themselves as one of the seventy and imagine what would be most challenging about this journey. Many responses were predictable: not taking any money even for emergencies, no change of clothes, no food, depending on strangers for food and lodging, not being able to choose one’s traveling partner, judging people who did not accept the message.

But one student who had not spoken in class previously said, “Eat what is set before you.” Silence, then a bit of nervous laughter followed. He repeated, emphatically, “Eat what is set before you,” conveying by his tone that he was serious.  When I invited him to elaborate, he told us that his father had been a pastor in a rural, very poor area in South Dakota. The family was often invited for dinner by parishioners, most of them farmers. He recalled that he and his siblings were admonished to eat whatever was served. I supposed that he referred to a child’s finicky tastes or disdain for green vegetables. But he went on to say that people on remote farms often relied on whatever they could kill or catch nearby for food, even for company.

He added, “We just never knew what we would have to eat.” Then I understood. I recalled my father’s stories of growing up in such a place during the Depression. As a young boy, he often hunted squirrels, rabbits, and other wild creatures. I could not imagine eating such things, but they did.

The author then took that one point and built the rest of her commentary around it, but a good exercise for each of us this week might be to take all of these and consider which is the hardest one for you.  It might be “eating what is set before you,” as it was for that student.  It might be “greeting no one on the road.”  Maybe it’s shaking the dust off your feet, or carrying no purse, no bag, no sandals.  It might be remaining in the same house, curing the sick, or wishing others peace. 

Whichever it is, take it with you as your challenge for this week.  It’s not just the seventy that Jesus sends out; he sends each of us out to be good disciples, every day of our lives.  And that means that each day we have a chance to improve upon the day before.

Amen.

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