Sermon on Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

You came on a great Sunday! We’re going to do a new missions program: a real, biblically-based model. We didn’t announce it in advance, because we didn’t want you to bring any extra clothes. And I hope none of you brought your wallets or purses today.

We’re going to put everyone’s name in a hat, pull out names in pairs, and send you on your way to spread the good news.

One pair will go over to Brea, one to Anaheim, one to La Habra, one to Buena Park…you get the idea.

When you get there, you’re going to knock on a door and see if someone will take you in. If they do, you’re going to stay with them for as long as they’ll have you. See you in a few weeks!

That all sounds good, right? Right?

Huh. You all don’t seem very keen on this idea.

That’s probably because what Jesus asks of his disciples is really vulnerable.

He’s taking away their safety nets, their sense of what to expect, even his very presence to lean on.

He’s removing everything they’re used to relying on: money, belongings, familiarity with the town they’re in, the knowledge and presence of their rabbi.

That’s probably why Jesus sent out only the twelve the first time, in the previous chapter—only his first and most committed students. We don’t hear how it went, but presumably that pilot program worked, since Jesus is sending out seventy people this time (or seventy-two, depending on the translation).

This time, we do hear how it went: the returning disciples are overjoyed! They were able to do things they never imagined.

And Jesus is happy for them but reminds them that their true reward is that their “names are written in heaven.”

That sounds like they got a one-way ticket to a place with clouds and harps and halos after they die, but whenever Jesus talks about “heaven” or the “kingdom of God,” he’s not just talking about a far-removed place in the sky for dead people. He’s talking about being part of God’s mission in the world now.

The Reign of God that is both now and not yet is indeed now, at least in part. Jesus sent out his disciples to live vulnerably in the Reign of God wherever they went
Jesus sends them in pairs, because the Reign of God is something we do together.

Jesus sends them out without money and without belongings so that they will depend on others’ hospitality and build connections.

Jesus tells them to stay with only one household per town so that they will deepen that connection and develop relationships and community.

Hospitality and relationships create the kinship of the Reign of God. Some people even drop the “g” in “Kingdom of God” and call it the “Kin-dom of God,” emphasizing the deep family relationships that God invites us into.

That is exactly what Jesus is creating here. You can’t stay in someone’s home for a long period of time without getting to know them. You can’t offer genuine hospitality without forming bonds with people. You can’t heal people without caring about them.

By sending his disciples out in this vulnerable way, Jesus is creating microcosms of the Kin-dom of God. 

When I was in high school, I went on a couple mission trips to Mexico. It wasn’t anywhere near as vulnerable a situation as Jesus sends his disciples into, but it was different from anything I had ever experienced.

We spent a long weekend building a home or two: one room on a foundation with one window and one door. And we put on a Vacation Bible School program for the kids in the area.

As I have grown in my understanding of the world and the history of missions throughout the centuries, my feelings about my participation in those mission trips have become complicated.

Our intentions were good: we wanted to help our neighbors who had fewer resources than we did, and we wanted to tell people that Jesus loves them.

But looking back, there’s a lot I don’t know. I don’t know what organization we were working with. I don’t know where our materials came from—were they bought near where we were building so that it would stimulate the local economy? Were we taking work away from local people (who honestly probably would have done the work a lot better than a high schooler who had little experience with hammers)? Were the kids in our VBS missing school so they could hang out with us?

This only scratches the surface of the potential ethical issues of our trips, and I don’t have answers for how much good versus harm we did on those weekends.

My feelings about those trips are complicated, but I do know how I was impacted by the experience.

I saw poverty that I had never seen before in real life. I saw families living in shacks made of old garage doors and tarps. I saw pits of burning garbage. I knew those things existed, and I knew this was far from the worst poverty in the world, but it was different seeing it in front of me.(And lest we congratulate ourselves for living in a nation with a better quality of living, I have since seen worse poverty on Skid Row in LA, much closer to home.)

And on one of those weekends,we were given hospitality like I had never before experienced.

One of the families we built a house for insisted on feeding us. It was hard to bear the knowledge of what this meal was probably costing them, but you can’t insult people by not accepting their hospitality.

So, we ate.

It was my first taste of mole—an amazing deep brown sauce with warm spices and incredible depth because it includes a bit of chocolate. It’s not sweet at all—just rich and flavorful. Served over chicken and rice, mole is so good!

The family that served us was so gracious. I am still humbled by their generosity and kindness. As we ate and laughed and tried to communicate with our less-than-satisfactory high school Spanish, any “us versus them” melted away. Their hospitality created kinship and, like Jesus’ 70 disciples, we experienced a microcosm of the Kin-dom of God.

Jesus tells his disciples not to rejoice that they could cast out demons, but that they are a part of the Reign of God.

Jesus invites us not to do things that we can be proud of but to be a part of the family of God that transcends culture, border, nationality, and language.

This week, look at your neighbors (which is everyone around you) and don’t wonder what you can do for them, but see if there is a way to connect and find that kinship that Jesus invites us into.

When you do, the Kin-dom of God has truly come near.