July 14, Nothing

In today’s Gospel Story (Mk 6:7-13) Jesus, sending his apostles out to share with others what they had learned with him, says “take nothing for the journey but a walking stick”. He “gave them authority over unclean spirits”, and told them their message, which they had also learned from their time with him, would not always be popular or well received, and at times they would just have to “leave there and shake the dust off your feet”. The Alleluia Verse might prepare us for the Gospel Story: “May the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ enlighten the eyes of our hearts, that we may know what is the hope that belongs to our call”. And there is real hope which we need theses days.

This Story can be as personal to us as we want it to be. We can keep it as a nice story about what happened thousands of years ago, or we can be open to what it is saying to us in our life as we read it here and now. Our call. But like the people in the Story, we have to be ready that it might say something to us we are not willing to hear. A call for any who would be a disciple of Jesus is to be open to the Spirit leading us to ongoing conversion, or metanoia, constant growth. This is not an easy experience. Is this something we are open to or even want, or do we prefer things as they are in our life, keep Jesus at a distance and do what we’ve always done? What about trusting, taking a chance and going where it takes us?

We are living in a time of rapidly escalating chaos, violence, polarization, even evil, which can very well destroy us. Does the Story say anything about how we are called to live Jesus’ kingdom here and now? None of us can say what the Story should mean for other people, so there is no place for finger pointing. It’s hard enough to understand what it says to us. The Gospel Jesus taught is personal, but not private. It speaks to us about how we are to live with the people in our life, not how we are to expect others to live. Jesus gave his apostles authority over unclean spirits. This is an interesting concept for the setting in our life these days as we listen to the story. 

Jesus tells his apostles to trust the the relationship they have experienced with him and what they have learned. If we let the Story speak to us, it assumes we spend time with him and have a relationship with him, He tells them not to take the things they feel they need and are comfortable with — “no food, no sack, no money in their belts”, or even a second tunic. What do we feel we need and are comfortable with, have become part of the way we live but now are called to let go of? Attitudes, prejudices, expectations, the images we project to others? This can get pretty personal.

As I listen to the Story today in the midst of all the nastiness going on just about everywhere, I believe that it all points to God who isn’t causing it, but is with us as we try to deal with it. Jesus sends the Spirit to help us learn what it means for us to live as Jesus’ disciples here and now. So I have to ask what the Story is saying to me here. What do I need to get rid of? What have I become comfortable with that is part of my every day living but now has to go? Perhaps my desire for affection, esteem, approval, image? Am I willing to do what I feel I’m called to do, but let the success be up to Jesus, or do I want to keep some sense of control? It’s kinda clear what the Spirit is saying to me, but letting go is not easy.

Then there is my “heart attack in the car” experience. I’m still trying to get a handle on that. I seem to have a different perspective on a lot of things. I know something big happened, and is still happening, but don’t know what. This has led to much letting go and realigning, learning and relearning. Abba is intimately close, in everything, and I am part of it all as is everybody. Prayer is ever more important. Not saying prayers, but living in openness, trust, amazement, awareness that everything is of God, I am in God and God is in me. It’s one thing to believe this, quite another to experience it. God is in every one of us, and we are in God, no exceptions. I believe this, so how do I live it?

There is a lot of suffering in the world, some I know of personally, most I don’t — friends’ health problems, uncertainty of many sorts, failed or difficult relationships as are in almost every family, betrayals, homelessness, loss of a pet, etc. Is “he gave them authority over unclean spirits” saying anything to me here about helping people with their pain? Is there something I need to be doing?

Jesus sent his apostles out in twos. Abba’s kingdom something private between Jesus and me. It is a community affair that includes not only everybody in my life, but also all creation. What responsibilities do I have here? How do I not just preach the kingdom of God, but live it? Jesus cared about people, especially those on the fringes, the outcasts and unacceptables. He welcomes everybody, especially the “outcasts”, no matter how they are treated allegedly in his name, by some traditions and their self-appointed enforcers. What does this say to me? The kingdom is not rules to be keep or things to believe, as important as these might be. It is a relationship to live, which we learn as we move along our journey of prayer. A relationship with God that includes everybody in our life all the time.

How much I want to be aware of Abba in my life? I, as does every single one of us, exist as I am because Abba chooses to keep putting life into me, yet do I want to pay much attention to this? Can I believe that God loves me as I am regardless of whether I love and accept myself? Am I more concerned with my own (un)worthiness than with God simply loving me? Am I afraid of what God will ask if I let myself get to close to Him? Do I believe this, or do I even want to? Do I have a sense of being led? Am I aware of the good going on around me? God’s kingdom is people, every one of us. How important to me are people I don’t like? Can I recognize God in them? Do I even want to go there? Looks like I’m taking too much with me on my journey. Something has to go. What? How? Just sayin . . .