Mark 6:1-6a (Matthew 13:53-58 and Luke 4:14-30) is a story of the rejection of Jesus at Nazareth. 1He left that place and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. 2 On the Sabbath, he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. The scribes had a similar response in Mark 3:22. They ask a series of questions that we ought not to read as necessarily hostile. They said, “Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that he has received? They wonder about the source of the wisdom of Jesus. What deeds of power his hands are doing! They wonder about the source of his power, recognizing that Jesus is doing miraculous things, but not immediately seeing the presence of God in them. 3 Is not this the carpenter (τέκτων “stone mason” or “wheelwright” but also craftsman, artisan, worker in wood)? They observe his ordinary occupation. Of course, tradition maintains that Jesus was a woodworker, a carpenter. He made yokes, plows and other instruments for the farm and home. While not at the top of the career track, woodworkers had local status and customers paid them well. Joseph may have been a builder of some competence. One of the distinctive features of the Synoptic Gospels in general is that they start with the son of a carpenter, the man Jesus of Nazareth, whom his resurrection from the dead reveals to be the Messiah of Israel, the Son of God. They start with his humanity.[1] The local folk continue by asking whether Jesus is the son of Mary[2] (bar Joseph would have been the traditional identification, so this may be an insulting reference, or even an informal way of identifying him) and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?” Jesus has no distinguished lineage. They took offense (ἐσκανδαλίζοντο, stumbled, rejected) at him. They view Jesus as attempting to elevate himself above his common background. The first irony of this passage is that the townspeople view Jesus’ birth, his lineage, as a reason to reject him and his message. As only “the son of Mary” he is not worthy of their respect. However, how might they view him if they believed him to be “the son of God”? 4 Then Jesus said to them, “Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house.”[3] The response of Jesus is to offer a bit of wisdom. Jesus’ philosophical interpretation of his rejection further demonstrates the depth and truth of his wisdom. As we would expect, Jesus responds to what the people are saying and thinking about him. The proverb he uses has direct parallels in Matthew 13:57 and Luke 4:24 and an indirect one in John 4:44. Luke and John mention the prophet’s hometown/own country. Matthew includes both place and people — ‘in their own country and in their own house.’ Mark includes the place — “in their hometown,” but then adds a double reference to the prophet’s people — “among their own kin, and in their own house.” With this double reference Mark underscores the scandal of Jesus’ rejection by his own people. This rejection echoes the misunderstanding shown by his family earlier in the gospel (3:21, 31-35). It underscores a theme in the New Testament in general that his own people rejected him while Gentiles would receive him. Jesus, then, is assuming that the desire to see miracles on the part of the citizens of the town (note again that Jesus puts this desire on their lips) implies a lack of confidence in the authenticity of his prophetic status and identity. The point seems to be that the rebuff of Jesus by the residents of Nazareth is ironically proof of Jesus’ prophetic identity. 5 Further, he could do no deed of power there. This is a bold passage, as it declares something Jesus could not do. In the preceding chapter, the faith of the people who approach Jesus was important in their healing. Given the reaction Jesus has received at home, his inability to perform any “deed of power” should not be surprising. Except, Mark moderating the conclusion, that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. We have one of the few references to Jesus performing an action that accompanies the healing of Jesus. Further, his healings were part of the actualizing of his preaching. For that reason, the rejection of the message he preached led to a limit on his healing.[4]
Sometimes, doing what is possible is better than bemoaning a larger goal that can’t be achieved at present. There must have been at least a few individuals present with enough faith to receive his help. When it turned out that Jesus could not accomplish in Nazareth what he had set out to do — what he was willing to do — he did what was possible, what the circumstances would allow, and healed a few sick people. Sometimes, doing what is possible is better than giving up if solving the larger problem is beyond reach. Saint Francis of Assisi once advised, “Start by doing what’s necessary; then do what’s possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible.” While that can be true, we ought not take it as a guarantee and treat the “possible” as if it were only a step on a larger journey. In some difficult circumstances, the possible may be all that’s ever accomplished, but doing it can still be a godly thing. And Francis’ statement does suggest that there is a momentum that may be unleashed by doing the necessary and the possible, and that it may carry over regarding the more difficult stuff. All things are possible with God, but all things are not easy. Such considerations remind us that being a Christian is not just a set of beliefs, but also a set of practices (think, for example, of the golden rule, the Sermon on the Mount and the Ten Commandments). 6 In addition, he was amazed (ἐθαύμαζεν) at their unbelief. Jesus accepts faith as a natural attitude and its absence surprises him. This is the same verb used to describe the reaction to those in the Decapolis to the possessed man’s story about Jesus healing him (5:20), to Pilate’s reaction to Jesus’ refusal to “further reply” (15:5) and his early death (15:44). The second irony of this passage is that Jesus is the one who expresses amazement, not to miracles and wisdom, but to the lack of faith in his home village. For Jesus, disappointment filled this next stop. This is Jesus’ third experience in Mark with such rejection. In 3:20-21, the family of Jesus labeled him crazy. In 3:31-35, his mother brothers and sisters attempt to lure him out and away from those before whom he has chosen to preach.
Mark 6:6b-13 relates Mark’s version of the story of the mission of the twelve.[5] Why is there so much urgency? Jesus will send the disciples to bear the good news in word and deed.
6bThen he went about among the villages teaching. The early church rooted its own missionary activity in the mission charge of Jesus. The only impediment to this is that they do eventually desert Jesus. The mission charge suggests urgency and hostility. So, what is fundamental for the sent church?
First, Jesus has called the disciples. Jesus has chosen them for a particular ministry. Thus, 7 Jesus called the twelve.
Second, their mission is communal. Jesus began to send them out two by two. This assures the validity of their witness (Deuteronomy 17:6) and shows their own participation in a community of faith.
Third, as Jesus himself has healed and exorcised, Jesus gave them authority over the unclean spirits. They go in the name of Jesus, doing what Jesus commands them to do, not what they think their mission is. They do not possess independent authority, but go only with the authority Jesus gives them. This story reasserts the authority of Jesus with a strong surge of decisive action. This commissioning clearly demonstrates the growing power of Jesus’ ministry. He gives them definitive orders. He proclaims a standard of judgment for them to follow. He sends them out to do precisely what he has been doing in preaching, healing and exorcism. As Mark relates it, the mission of the disciples is an extension of the preaching ministry of Jesus.
Fourth, as Jesus himself engaged in an itinerant ministry that relied upon the hospitality of others, Jesus invites the disciples to do the same. 8 Jesus ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; 9 but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. They are to be utterly dependent upon the hospitality of others. He gives them a mandate to travel light. Poverty gives the disciple the freedom to accept help. The sayings are reminiscent of Matthew 6:25-37, where God will supply the followers of Jesus under God’s providential care. Yet, are the instructions in line with the simple life-style of Jesus? Are they incompatible with the Jesus who came eating and drinking? Similarities with the Cynic pattern here is one of similar social manners, not just rhetoric. Let us consider their prohibition of the use of money. Diogenes Laeterius: "Diocles relates how Diogenes persuaded Crates to give up his property to sheep-pasture, and throw into the sea any money he had." Similarly Monimus, after deciding to follow Diogenes: "straight off pretended to be mad and easy flinging away the small change and all the money on the banker's table, until his master dismissed him; and he immediately devoted himself to Diogenes." Julian described Diogenes as "Cityless, homeless, a man without a country, owning not an obol, not a drachma, not even a household slave." Other statements: "if all the gold, all the silver, all the copper should give but, I would not be injured in the least." "... are you not afraid of the money? ... For by no means does money always profit those who have gotten it; but people have suffered many more injuries and more evils from money than from poverty, particularly when they lacked sense." Cynic teachers could also prohibit the use of the beggars’ bag under certain circumstances, even though usually, it was part of their property. Paul’s refusal to accept compensation shows how concerned he was that his message remains credible. This was undoubtedly a common proverb, based on the laws of hospitality in the ancient Near East. The dress code, and what they are to take or not to take, is not an issue of asceticism. Rather, Jesus is instructing the disciples to learn to be at home among strangers. The itinerant ministry to which Jesus commissions his disciples bears little resemblance to the settled ministries that arose in Christian centers within a generation or two after Jesus' death. One of the distinguishing characteristics of Paul's ministry, in fact, was its itinerant nature, and the establishment of settled Christian communities with resident leaders is already clearly visible in Paul's correspondence (e.g., Romans 16; 1 Corinthians 16). Indeed, the nucleus of such settled Christian communities may perhaps be discerned in the households of Peter (Matthew 8:14-15), Mary, Martha and Lazarus (John 11-12), and perhaps Jairus (whose daughter is raised just before the sending out of the disciples, Matthew 9:18-26). Those most directly affected by Jesus' ministry would be most likely to preserve and spread the account of that ministry.
There are times when Jesus' instruction to take nothing with us is one we ought to obey almost literally. It is an opportunity to leave our baggage behind. The song, “I wouldn’t take nothing for my journey now,” has some sage advice. The Devil offered wealth and fame. He admits that traveling with the Lord has included heartache, grief, and woe. Nothing in the world can take the place of the love of God. Silver and gold will not buy the healing he needs in his soul.[6]
Fifth, as Jesus himself has received welcome and rejection, the disciples can expect the same. 10 Jesus said to them, “Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. A vague, simple instruction. When you stop, stay put. 11 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.” They can expect to have a similar reception to the one Jesus just received. Where people receive and embrace the gospel, disciples are to remain; where people reject the gospel, they are to move on. He orders his traveling disciples to create quickly a home base while they are staying in one locale. He prepares them for the inevitable moments of frustration and failure they will encounter. The disciples’ foot-shaking would communicate official separation from a relationship between the household or village and the disciples. By leaving a place with such a symbolic finality, the disciples were proclaiming threat the inhabitants and leaving them to the judgment of God. The symbolic gesture depicted here responds negatively to an entire community's unwillingness to receive the missionaries. When faced with civic rejection, and I will show you how foolish all this is disparagement of those who refused to receive them. Some scholars think of this as an example of humor. Rabbis said the dust of the heathen was polluting. However, this view seems far removed from Jesus, who rejected the concept that ritual impurity could result from contact with lepers, or the dead, or gentiles. Yet, Jesus’ inauguration of a “sacrament of failure” does not send the disciples out to fail. His order includes instructions for how to carry on in the face of failure. Hospitality was important in missionary preaching. Shaking the dust off implies they are heathen. It is not a curse. It is a testimony intended to provoke thought. This text concludes by offering a sharp contrast between the environment of faith and the environment of skepticism and rejection. The text is obviously saying something to contemporary disciples, sent out by Jesus into an often-rejecting world. Even though he gave them authority, he does not promise his apostles success or enthusiastic reception. The evangelist is to be so committed to the story that the listeners’ response is not the sole validation for the telling of the story. There is a time to reach out and intrude, relentlessly pursuing and persuading. Then there is a time to shake the dust off our feet and move on. Even as Jesus was amazed at the unbelief and rejection by his own people, he moved on to other villages. He encourages his disciples not to linger among those who do not believe, but to move on as well.
As much as the Christian tradition values the virtue of perseverance, is there also faithfulness in letting go? Could we express our faithlessness by persevering and refusing to let go? Could there ever be a time when the loving thing, the faithful thing is to shake the dust off your feet and move on? There is grace in going the second mile with someone. Nevertheless, there is also grace in knowing when to let go. Parents worry about children in their thirties. Teachers work with their students. Sometimes, we let go so that God can come. In other words, Jesus means that the grace of letting go comes after all other reasonable efforts have failed. Disciples do not give up lightly. Rather we say, "There, I've done all I can do. Now, let God take you."
Is there anything, anyone, some situation in my life, some problem for which I need to shake the dust off my feet and let go?
Christians can learn to forgive themselves and others, and not be afraid to lead "error embracing" lives. We have to know when it is time to blow the dust off, roll up our sleeves and start working; and when it is time to shake the dust off, redirect our energies and go on our way. Jesus knew there was a time to get down to work and time to get out and get on.
We need a sacrament of failure. Just as there are ways to live that teach the world about Christ, there are also ways to fail that are uniquely Christian. People do not like to hear they are going to have to face failure in life. There is nothing like momentary successes to make anyone’s fear of failure grow exponentially. As servants of our calling, we must fight against the almost pathological desire and expectation to have everyone like us.
We need to learn to handle failure and defeat gracefully. We can get back on our feet. We can take a break, put our lives and hold, and do something fun. Defeat or failure is not the end of the world. We can find a friend with whom to talk. We need to remember that we have this one life to lead. It will be better for us to dare mighty and glorious things, even though it will mean failure will be part of our lives. It will be a poor life if we neither enjoy nor suffer much because we have known neither victory nor defeat.[7] Our lives will end. We ought to fear far more that our lives will never truly begin because of our fear to fail.[8]
The thrust of this passage for all who would follow Jesus and be sent forth by him is this — being laborers in the harvest is not about what they do for Jesus, but what Jesus does for and through them. Jesus authors the capacity for laborers to be faithful in carrying out the tasks he sets before them. Jesus does not empower those he sends forth to avoid, but rather to face head-on the challenges and even suffering that accompany laboring in the harvest. Laborers are called and prepared for the harvest by the one who has compassion for the flayed and wounded. Thus, laborers are empowered to endure suffering through the harvest.
This may seem daunting. Who really wants to take this kind of call?
However, how can it be any other way? The time is full with the coming of the reign of heaven, and the harvest is at hand. This is good news, but not necessarily easy news. For the imagery of the harvest concerns the unsettling reality of old dispensations being undercut and uprooted on the way to being transformed according to God’s purposes for a new heaven and new earth.
Laboring in such a harvest is not for the timid. It takes guts. The glory comes only when we are called and prepared by the grace of God in Christ to be laborers with enduring courage to be compassionate all along the way of gathering in the harvest.
Here is a mission from which there is no return. Shakespeare's Hamlet muses about death:
For who would bear fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life,
but that the fear of something after death,
that country from whose bourn
no traveler ever returns, puzzles the will
and makes us rather bear the ills we have
than to fly to others we know not of.
Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all.[9]
William Carey (1761-1834) went seven years before he had his first convert in India. Adoniram Judson (1788-1850) worked in Burma for almost the same period of time before he had his first convert.
What about Robert Morrison (1788-1834), first Protestant missionary to China, who labored for 25 years and had fewer than a dozen converts?
Or what about Ansgar (801-865), the Apostle of the North, who gave his life to preaching the gospel to the Vikings without any long-lasting results?
What about missionaries to East Africa who in the early 1800s shipped their goods to Africa in coffins because most of them knew they most likely would be struck down during their first term by disease or unfriendly natives?
What about Jim Eliot, Nate Saint and others who were martyred on a sandy beach in South America as they made the first attempts to reach the Auca Indians with the gospel?
I stand in awe of these pioneer missionaries. Many of them died without seeing great results. Yet, many of the outposts they planted eventually flourished as the gospel took root in culture after culture.[10]
Sudan Interior Mission (SIM) began in 1893. Canadians Walter Gowans and Roland Bingham and American Thomas Kent had a vision to evangelize the 60 million unreached people of sub-Saharan Africa. Unable to interest established missions -- most of which said reaching the Soudan was impossible -- the three set out alone. Malaria overtook all three. Gowans and Kent died of the fever in 1894, and Bingham returned to Canada. On his second attempt, he caught malaria again and was forced to go back home. Unable to return to Africa, Bingham sent out a third team. They successfully established a base 500 miles inland at Patigi in 1902. From there, the work of SIM began in Africa.
Many people in their day dubbed the Soudan (specifically, Nigeria) "The White Man's Graveyard" because of the high mortality rate of Western missionaries trying to evangelize this remote part of the world. Diseases like malaria, yellow fever and typhoid claimed so many victims that most missionaries headed to this part of the world would typically pack their possessions in their own coffin. They would say goodbyes to loved ones to board a ship with the realization that they most likely would come home horizontally and not vertically. Still they pressed on with a God-given sense of urgency.[11]
The risen Lord still summons people to himself and gives them a message to proclaim, a power to heal and liberate, a way in which they are to conduct themselves, a trust in God to provide for the journey, and a recognition of the challenges and suffering that will come.
We now read of the result of the missionary charge by Jesus. 12 Therefore, they went out and proclaimed (ἐκήρυξαν) that all should repent (μετανοῶσιν). Mark does not tell us the content of this proclamation. They are all used to describe the content of John the Baptist's preaching as recorded in Mark 1:14-15. 13 They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them. In other words, Jesus sent the disciples to do the same he had done, to preach the message of repentance and actualize his message.[12] Because the actual mission is reported in summary fashion (6:12-13), Mark seems to be more interested in the preparation Jesus gives the disciples. This suggests he is articulating something fundamental for the life of the “sent” church. They are to preach, teach, expel demons, and heal the infirm. As compassionate examples of God’s love these healing activities demonstrate to the people how God’s kingdom is already in their midst, even as it is still on its way. The fact that anointing is part of the mission of the disciples and associated with healing is one of the facts that have led to the practice of anointing in many churches, especially related to healing and confirmation. The Council of Trent cited this passage as support against the Reformation for the continuation of unction as a sacrament. The title “Christ” refers to the Anointed One. In that sense, every time the church anoints someone it refers us to the mystery of Christ. The anointing of the sick becomes a sign referring to this mystery.[13]
[1] (Barth, 2004, 1932-67), I.2 [13.1] 22.
[2] This phrase may have given rise to rumors of the illegitimacy of Jesus. Some scholars suppose that such an identification suggests that by the time of this encounter Joseph has died. Still others suggest this is Mark’s way of alluding to the Virgin birth. This is unlikely, as nowhere else in his gospel does Mark refer to Mary’s miraculous conception.
[3] This saying is also attributed to Jesus in two extra-canonical collections of Jesus' sayings, the Coptic Gospel of Thomas (Saying 31) and the Oxyrhynchus Papyrus, lines 31-36.
[4] (Barth, 2004, 1932-67), Volume IV.2 [64.3] 216-7.
[5] The importance of the mission is beyond question, since we find versions of this mission in Q, Mark, and the sources unique to Matthew and Luke.
[6] "I wouldn't take nothing for my journey now" by Charles Goodman and Jimmie Davis
Well, I wouldn't take nothin' for my journey now
Gotta make it to heaven somehow
Though the devil tempt me and he tried to turn me around
He's offered everything that's got a name
All the wealth I want and worldly fame
If I could still I wouldn't take nothin' for my journey now
Well, I started out travellin' for the Lord many years ago
I've had a lot of heartache and I met a lot of grief and woe
But when I would stumble then I would humble down
And there I'd say, I wouldn't take nothin' for my journey now
He's offered everything that's got a name
All the wealth I want and worldly fame
If I could still I wouldn't take nothin' for my journey now
Oh, there's nothin' in this world that'll ever take the place of God's love
All the silver and gold wouldn't buy a touch from above
When the soul needs healin' and I begin to feelin' his power
Then I can say, thank the Lord, I wouldn't take nothing for my journey now.
[7] Theodore Roosevelt: "Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat."
[8] Cardinal Newman, in the last year of his life, wrote in his journal: "Fear not that thy life shall come to an end, but rather fear that it shall never have a beginning.
[9] Hamlet, Act III.1.78-85.
[10] Southern Nazarene University Website, snu.edu. Retrieved December 14, 2016.
[11] --Lenny Miles, "Pack your coffins ... Let's go!" milesinmissions.wordpress.com. April 10, 2013. Retrieved December 14, 2016.
[12] (Barth, 2004, 1932-67), Volume IV.3 [72.4] 863.
[13] (Pannenberg, 1998, 1991), Volume 3, 270, 367.
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