There is a great deal that one might unpack in our Gospel reading this morning. Certainly, more than I might be able to do justice to in a single sermon.
Almost certainly at some point in the history of Christianity this text has been used as justification for what I’ll call more militant forms of Evangelism - evangelism meaning the act of sharing the Christian gospel. Typically, of course, Evangelism is associated with missionary work and its goal of converting people to Christianity. Seeking instructions from our Gospel text, we are to go out in pairs to all the nations of the earth, expecting hospitality from those we meet, preach that the kingdom of God is near, and that you must believe to find space in it. Moreover, if our message falls on deaf ears, we are to shake the dust of the town from our feet and publicly reject the individual. Interpreting this passage in this way, however, subverts a much deeper and more transformative meaning, albeit much harder to potentially live out.
In unpacking this alternative interpretation, I want to offer a gracious nod to Professor Richard Swanson’s commentary on this passage. It was both affirming and disappointing to read as a seminary student. Affirming in the sense that I am in the right ballpark but disappointing to know that I am not treading entirely new ground. None the less the alternative reading of our Gospel is so powerful that it bears to be repeated and amplified.
Looking again at our Gospel text, Jesus sends out 70 messengers (thought to be the number of nations known in biblical times) to share that, no matter if they are accepted or rejected, that the kingdom of God is near. This begs two questions: 1) what is the kingdom of God and 2) who are its messengers? Let’s unpack the second question first.
Jesus does not announce the kingdom of God like in a Disney movie. There are no sharply dressed trumpet bearers announcing the kingdom from a scroll. Jesus intentionally sends the messengers out with no money, no provisions, and no shoes. They are to walk into town saying, “Peace to this house!” If they are offered hospitality, they are to take it and remain in community there. I don’t know about you but if someone like this walked up to my house, I would tell them to keep on walking and I think this is the point. Jesus is placing his messengers in an extremely precarious position by design. To use his turn of phrase, “like lambs into the midst of wolves.” The proclamation of God’s kingdom is not charged to typical messengers who would be easy to welcome. Indeed, difficult people to welcome are charged with these tasks. If they are rejected, according to verse 16, then the host rejects both Jesus and God. Notice that when hospitality is extended, though, the kingdom of God is proclaimed.
This brings us to our second question, what is the kingdom of God? I’m pretty sure than no-one has the full answer to this question, but we can find glimpses. First, take note that the kingdom of God comes near in the simple and, given the condition of the seventy messengers, earthy sharing of a meal with a stranger. The kingdom of God comes near when the sick are healed, perhaps more appropriately understood as restored to their community. Notice here that this is also a fundamentally earthly kingdom. There is no need to be converted to reside in God’s kingdom, removed from earth, after death. Indeed, as we pray each Sunday, the kingdom is to come “on earth as in heaven.”
At the suggestion of a member of the congregation, I have just finished reading the late New Testament scholar and theologian Marcus Borg’s Convictions. It is a highly accessible compilation of his extensive scholarship, and I consider it to be the catechism of progressive Christian thought (of which the ELCIC and ACC both subscribe to). I bring this up because Borg has written extensively about the political meaning of the phrase “kingdom of God.”
The term “kingdom” resonates differently for us today than it would have had biblically. The idea of a kingdom today conjures up notions of medieval fairs and is problematic because it places gendered constraints on God. Biblically, however, a “kingdom” was simply a common form of political organization. Indeed, this story would have taken place in the kingdom of Rome (as it was referred to in biblical Palestine) and, very intentionally, Jesus is challenging that earthly kingdom. The early communities who heard the first sharing of the Gospel would have known it and the political and religious authorities would have known it and eventually would put Jesus to death for it.
Imperial Rome was a domination system maintained through military force. It was a hierarchical system where those in power lived in abundance by exploiting those at the bottom of the hierarchy, in particular the peasant class. It was a system marked by inequality and scarcity. The kingdom of God, therefore, offers us an alternate reality of what life on earth would be like if we lived according to God’s will as opposed to the domination systems of this world. Indeed, Jesus’s ministry reveals to us a world marked by peace not violence, religion’s role in challenging exploitation and injustice, rather than being complicit in them, and a world in which everyone is radically welcomed and afforded their “daily bread.” Our charge as Christians, therefore, is so much more than simply sharing the Gospel for the sake of a world after death. Indeed, our charge is a hard one, here and now. Our evangelism is necessarily less about sharing the Gospel than it is about living it.
A few weeks ago now, inspired by our success handing out snacks during Go-By-Bike Week, Pastor Lyndon and I set up on the church lawn to hand out freezies to student coming home from their last day of school. The most common question was “how much do they cost?” There was a great deal of excitement when the students realized they were free. In between mobs of students, same dancing to Chapel Roan, Pastor Lyndon and I jested that the only thing we were selling was Jesus. As much as that was funny, and a nod to the evangelism practiced by other Christians, I don’t think that was far off. Handing out freezies, just for the sake of offering hospitality, and without any quid-pro-quo, is a glimpse of the kingdom of God, and an act of evangelism.
I am thinking of some of the other ways in which our congregations have set out to feed and welcome those with no purse, no bag, and no sandals. With June being Pride month and with Pastor Lyndon and members of this congregation marching in the Pride Parade, I cannot help but think about how our explicit welcome to our LGBTQ+ siblings is an act of defiance against systems and organizations that marginalize and exclude them. Moreover, marching in the Pride Parade is a public show of solidarity with those oppressed by our modern-day domination systems. Peace to this house! The kingdom of God has come near to you.
On this very street corner, I am very proud to be a part of a congregation that does not simply use its building as a shrine for an hour on Sunday but rather uses it to serve people in our community. Both St. Luke’s and Church of the Cross were part of the initial vision for the Shelbourne Community Kitchen, now residing under the upper hall. Our continued support and offering of space are intentional acts of defiance against systems that leave too many with too little to eat and is a tangible action to ensure that everyone has their literal “daily bread.” Peace to this house! The kingdom of God has come near to you.
This coming week, I will be filling in for Pastor Ed Chell at the intergenerational housing project groundbreaking next door. I am again very proud to be a part of a community that is actively working to counter a system where people, through no fault of their own, cannot afford a place to live. Our goal of providing subsidized community housing where young and old live in intentional community is so counter to the systems of oppression at work in our lives. Peace to this house! The kingdom of God has come near to you.
And yet, there is always more to be done. Let us continue to name the systems that create and justify exclusion, injustice, inequity, and oppression in our society today and then set out to challenge them. In the end, I am quite sure that the Church will not be remembered for how large our attendance at Sunday worship was, or how successfully our missionary work was, or even whose theology was most “right.” We will be remembered for how we, in the words of Galatians, bore one another’s burdens bringing forth the kingdom of God. Amen.
