Photo of Rev. Jeff Nelson
Rev. Jeff Nelson
Travel Light

Sermon:
September 26, 2004
Sunday Night Alive
 

Scripture:
Mark 6:7-13

Baggage claim. The place where we stop to pick up the bags we brought with us after we finish traveling. Does it ever feel like life comes equipped with its very own baggage claim? Sometimes I feel as if before I start the day, I have to stop and pick up my baggage. Wouldn’t want to leave home without it. Baggage—“the stuff” we carry with us. 

We all have some baggage we carry around with us. Some of the bags we carry are full of the hurts and frustrations of our lives. In them are the memories of all the times we have been wronged, hurt or ashamed. Another bag is filled with guilt and regret. Another bag, like the one the character from our drama was carrying, is filled with all of the things we are using to try to build meaning into our lives. It has all the trophies, the plaques, the degrees, the newspaper clippings and the letters of recommendation—all of the accomplishments and accolades that we hope will give meaning to our lives. The problem with that bag is that it just never seems big enough. As soon as it is filled, we find someone with a bigger bag of stuff.  

Baggage claim. We seem to stop there every day to pick up our baggage. Even though it weighs us down, we just don’t know what to do without it. And before long we begin to realize something. Rather than claiming our baggage, too often we discover that our baggage has claimed us.  

There is one other bag that many of us carry. It is our religious bag. Oh, we don’t like to talk about that bag—at least not here. But yes, indeed, some of the baggage we carry around is a result of our involvement in the church. The very institution that has been called to help us lighten our load, has at times added to the very load we carry. 

Dare we open up that bag—that bag that we may have picked up from a lifetime of church-going and religious training? Let’s see what’s in there. Lots of lists. Lists of answers—all to be memorized—each with corresponding scriptures to be delivered to anyone, anywhere, any time the occasion calls for it. I wouldn’t want to get caught in a situation where I don’t have the right answer.  

“How do you know the Bible is true?” Got that list right here. “If there really is a God, how come there is all this war and hunger and violence?” Where is that list of why a just God allows suffering? That one has the nice charts to help make it all so easy to understand. Then there is this one. This one comes in those desperate moments while visiting someone in the hospital. “Hey, pastor, explain this one to me. I’ve been a good person my whole life. Gone to church, paid my tithe, taught in Sunday School, worked in a soup kitchen. Tell me, why did God let me get cancer?” Oh, this is a tough one. Where is that list about God’s will? Answers—got to have them. Wouldn’t want anyone to know, surely wouldn’t want God to know, that there are some things I am not sure of. All the right answers. I carry them right here in my bag. 

What else is in that church bag? Well, there are more lists. This is “The People to Avoid” list.  This is “The Places to Avoid” list. Oh, but here is a good list: the “Who Gets into Heaven” list. I’m always checking to make sure I’m on that one. But you can’t have that list unless you have the other one—the juicier one—the “Who Is Not Going to Heaven” list. Oh yeah, here is one more list. The problem is that it got so big, it had to be bound and a hard cover put on it. That is the all-too-weighty “List of Sins.” I need to keep that one around so I know, and I can let someone else know, when they are sinning. The lists of dos and don’ts are what I carry in my baggage. 

There is one more thing in my religious bag. I wonder if it is in yours, as well? My mask. My church mask. The one I put on that says everything is okay and things are just fine. This mask hides any doubts or fears I might have. I wouldn’t want the church folks to know about those. I call my mask “The Shiny Happy Jesus Mask.” Anybody else have one of those? Do you carry it in your bag so you can whip it out when you walk through the doors on Sunday? The religious bag can weigh us down and make us preoccupied with right answers, rather than right relationship. 

But you might be saying to me, “What if I put all this baggage down, Jeff? What will I have left? I don’t like my baggage, but it is what I know. I’m not sure what it would mean to live without these bags. What do I have if I don’t have my baggage?” Well, if we set down our bags, we will find ourselves like the other character in our drama. Without our baggage, we will find that, at the end of the day, all we have is ourselves. Then maybe, just maybe, we will realize that is all God has ever asked of us, anyway. Just us. Just our lives. That is all God has ever asked of us. Our lives—given back to God and then given away to others. No extra baggage required. It is right here in our Gospel account for tonight.  

This is the moment in Mark’s story where those who had been following Jesus are sent out to be witnesses in the world. The first six chapters have them following, watching, listening and learning. And now, here is the big moment. Jesus sends them out into the world to bear witness to all they have seen and heard. Listen again to Jesus’ marching orders: 

Take nothing for the journey except a staff—no bread, no bag, no money in your belts. Wear sandals, but not an extra tunic. 

“Pack light,” Jesus says. Leave it all behind. No extra baggage required for this journey. No answer books to take along. No big, leather-bound Bible with the gold trim and red lettering to tote. No tracts to hand out. No doctrines to defend. It seems like the only thing they need is a good pair of walking shoes. 

Jesus sends his disciples out into the world with only their lives and their stories. Their lives will be the witness to the new ways God is active in the world. Their stories and their lives are what they have been equipped with for ministry. And stories—they had great stories to tell. Stories of the truly amazing things they had seen God doing in and through the ministry of Jesus. They had a story to tell. 

There was the story of the time they saw those four guys carry their friend (whose life seemed to be frozen, stuck, unable to move) for miles—and when they couldn’t get in to see Jesus, they actually climbed up to the roof and lowered their friend down to make sure that the hand of God could touch their friend. What a story about friendship! A story too good not to tell! 

Then there was that time Jesus was trying to get them to cross over to the other side of the lake. The “other” side.…where they were….where they lived. Surely God wanted nothing to do with them. Was it any wonder that a storm brewed up halfway through the journey? They would have to turn back. The storm had to be God’s way of saying to Jesus that ministry to them was simply not a part of the plan. But then something happened. Jesus calmed the storm. They went to the other side. God wanted the disciples there on the other side.…with them….among them. In fact, the disciples soon realized that they were more like them than they had ever imagined. What a story about breaking down boundaries! A story too good not to tell! 

How about the one about the woman who had been bleeding and bleeding for twelve years. Her suffering seemed endless. She tried everything. Went to every doctor in town. Tried every support group. Read every book. But nothing seemed to work. She just kept bleeding. She just kept suffering. Then suddenly she saw her chance. Something that seemed to embody the very spirit of God was passing by. So she just reached out and grabbed a hold of it. And the bleeding was gone. Years of suffering and isolation seemed to melt away.  Just like that. What a story of suffering and hope! A story too good not to tell! 

Not only did they have these stories about what they had seen happening around them, they had stories about what was happening within them. Peter, Andrew, James and John never believed it possible that life could mean more than trying to get bigger catches of fish. Now they knew what it meant to have bigger fish to fry. And old Levi, the tax collector, who had lived a life consumed by the pursuit of financial security, had an understanding of eternal security that no amount of money could ever purchase. They had stories to tell—each of them—about how God was at work in their lives. That is how Jesus sends his disciples out into the world: with their lives and their stories. 

There is one other important thing to see in today’s scripture about the nature of the mission field where Jesus sends his disciples. It is right there in verses 12 and 13. 

They went out and preached that people should repent. They drove out many demons and anointed many sick people with oil and healed them. 

In the mission field, the disciples’ preaching was never divorced from a ministry of healing.  Telling the truth about who God is and what God is calling humanity to can never be divorced from genuine acts of compassion and healing. They must go hand in hand. 

In today’s scripture we see Jesus laying out the model for evangelism. Oops…I said it, didn’t I?  Evangelism. Boy, there is a word we don’t like to talk about too much around here. Evangelism.  If there was ever a word in the Christian vocabulary that has gotten a bad rap, evangelism is it. Just to say it makes us all a little nervous. But today’s scripture makes it clear that the followers of Jesus are people who are sent out into the world to proclaim, through both word and deed, the Good News of God found in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. But evangelism—that makes us all a little nervous, now, doesn’t it? 

On the street, evangelism is often equated with pressure. It can feel like selling God—as if God was vinyl siding, replacement windows or a mortgage refinancing service. It can feel like having to shove our ideas down someone’s throat, threatening them with hell if they do not capitulate to our logic or Scripture quoting. It too often means excluding everyone from God’s grace except those who agree with the “evangelizer.” This is the reputation evangelism has for most people, probably even for many of us here. 

But consider this. What if there really is a great and good and kind God, and human beings really are God’s creatures, though we lose our way sometimes? And what if our deepest dream is really true, that the God who really exists really loves us? And what if one of the best ways for God to get through to those of us who have lost our way is via the kindness and influence of those others who have been brought back to a better path? What if there really are “angels” out there—not the wings-and-halos type, but the flesh-and-blood, laughter-and-tears type—people who are literally sent by God to intervene, to help those of us who have mucked up our lives, to give us a taste of grace? 

And what if you and I, who begin as wandering and confused people, could be so helped by our caring, God-sent and love-filled friends that we could join them as messengers of grace, carriers of good news, secret-agent angels, case studies in God’s power to change, enrich, fill and rescue lives that were being wasted, ruined and self-sabotaged? So what if it is not evangelism, but rather the style of doing it that has emerged over the last 100 years, that is deserving of our mistrust? What if evangelism is one of the things that our world needs most? 

After all, most people want to talk about things that really matter—their sense of God, their experiences of meaning or transcendence, their attempts to cope with their own mortality, their struggles with guilt and goodness, their dreams and hopes and deepest longings. They want to talk about these things because without them, all that is left is reruns and shopping, and spending and saving, culminating in estate sales and probate. 

True enough, most of the modern ways of evangelism—with the sales pitches, propositions and proofs—feel coercive and contrived. But that is, in fact, never how Jesus intended it to be. Tonight’s scripture makes that clear. Evangelists, the kind we discover in tonight’s scriptures, are people who engage others in good conversations about important and profound topics such as faith, values, hope, meaning, purpose, goodness, beauty, truth, life after death, life before death, and God. They do this, not because they are experts or because they want to impose their views on others, but because they feel they are called by God to do so. They live with a sense of mission that their God-given calling in life is not to just live for themselves, or even just to live well, but in fact to live unselfishly and well and to help others live unselfishly and well, too. Evangelists are people with a mission from God and a passion to love and serve their neighbors.  They want to change the world. And they realize that to do this there is no extra baggage needed.  In fact, true evangelists realize that they already have everything they need—their lives and their stories.  

Our scripture reminds us that evangelism means engaging others with good deeds and good conversations. And if we know anything about Jesus, we know that he was an amazing conversationalist. Unlike the typical evangelist-caricature of the last 100 years, Jesus was short on sermons, long on conversations; short on answers, long on questions; short on abstractions and propositions, long on stories and parables; short on telling us what to think, long on challenging us to think for ourselves; short on confronting the irreligious, long on confronting the too-religious. Before he told people to believe, he invited them to belong. Jesus changed the world with his life and with his stories.  

So, you see, we are more ready than we realize to answer Jesus’ call to transform the world. And we don’t need a bag of tricks full of right answers, proof texts or propositions. We have everything we need: our lives and our stories. I know some of the stories that are in this place. There are stories about how God has brought you through divorce and blending families. Stories about how you found healing after the death of a parent and how God is using your transformed pain to help bring healing to others who walk through the valley of the shadow of loss. I have heard stories about people who turned down bigger and more lucrative jobs because the cost to their families would be too high. Out there tonight, there are stories about persons who have been brought through the fear of cancer, depression and job loss. There are stories about how people found God while worshiping in a small mission church in a foreign country. There are stories about people who woke up one day to realize that they were giving too much to their careers and not enough to their families, and had God help them reconfigure their priorities. Those are stories too good not to tell! 

Each of us here also has a story about this place, about this community. We can go out into the places we work and live and tell people about the things God is doing right here every Sunday at 5:00. We have a story to tell about a place where Tyler, Bryon and Drew are often the ones to greet you at the door. A story of a place where Kelly will greet everybody with a hug. A place where we all have surrogate grandparents named Stew and Ruth, and everybody has an adopted mom named Mama June. We have a story of how God can take an accountant, an eye doctor and a trained opera singer to make some of the most inspirational and powerful music. We have a story here that is too good not to tell! 

The roll call continues. It is a call to go out into the world and let the light and love of God shine in us and through us. We are called to change the world. Julie Work. Jeff Livesay. Wendy Champoux. Bob McGregor. Bridget Nelson. Alexa Frye. Ron Reynolds. Jeff Nelson. “Will any of you be checking any baggage?” No, we already have everything we need. 

 


Note: This sermon was preceded by a drama entitled “Baggage Claim.” In it, two characters meet in a waiting room. They strike up a conversation and soon we realize that they are in the waiting room of heaven. One of the characters has a bag full of his accomplishments. The other comes empty-handed. The drama drives home the idea that, at the end of day, God requires our lives, not our works. 

I was also aided by Brain McCleran’s book, More Ready than You Know. McCleran is the one of the leaders in the “emerging church” movement, a movement that is helping the church understand its place in the postmodern world. I am just picking up his book, Finding Faith, and finding it very interesting and insightful. Don’t be surprised if you find it being quoted in future sermons.


 


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