Luke 10:1-11,16-20

After this the Lord appointed seventy^[a] others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go. ² He said to them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. ³ Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. ⁴ Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals; and greet no one on the road. ⁵ Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this house!’⁶ And if anyone is there who shares in peace, your peace will rest on that person; but if not, it will return to you. ⁷ Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the laborer deserves to be paid. Do not move about from house to house. ⁸ Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; ⁹ cure the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’^{[b] 10} But whenever you enter a town and they do not welcome you, go out into its streets and say, ¹¹ ‘Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet, we wipe off in protest against you. Yet know this: the kingdom of God has come near.’^{[c] 12} I tell you, on that day it will be more tolerable for Sodom than for that town.

¹⁶ “Whoever listens to you listens to me, and whoever rejects you rejects me, and whoever rejects me rejects the one who sent me.”

¹⁷ The seventy^[d] returned with joy, saying, “Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!” ¹⁸ He said to them, “I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning. ¹⁹ See, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you. ²⁰ Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”

After these things the Lord appointed another seventy also and sent them two by two ahead of him to every town and place where he was about to go.  He told them, ‘The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few.  Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.  Go!  I am sending you out like lambs among wolves.  Take neither purse nor scrip, nor sandals; and do not greet anyone on the road.’ 

And behold one of the seventy raiseth his hand and enquireth, ‘When thou sayest “sandals”, Lord, do we taketh that to be an generic term which denoteth all forms of footwear, or focusseth thou in on sandals in particular?  I asketh only because I possesseth an exceeding fine pair of walking boots, ideal for those who hiketh around as thou art indeed commanding us to do.’ 

Before the Lord could reply, another breaketh in and saith, ‘Lord I heareth what thou art saying, but behold, the skin that undergirdeth mine feed and also the feet of mine friend, Fidybus – he who maketh a pair with me as we getteth on well over long periods and always have done since we playeth together as children … Er, the object of mine speech escapeth me…’ 

Jesus saith wearily, ‘Something about the skin that undergirdeth thine feet, and those of thine friend, Fidybus?’ 

‘Ah, verily, yes, it cometh back now.  The skin that undergirdeth mine feet is like unto that which undergirdeth the feet of mine friend Fidybus, in that it soon waxeth tender and painful on rough ground.  And it just striketh us that the sight of two men who holdeth heavily on to each other and hobbleth slowly and painfully along, going “Oo!” and “Ah!” and “Ow!” whensoever they putteth down a foot, might cause those who dwell in the towns and places to which thou sendest us to scoff when we imparteth the news that the Son of God approacheth presently.  “What state musteth his feet be in, if he cannot keep up with these two clowns?” they will mock.  Might, therefore, Master, we ask thine blessing on the idea of wrapping strips of rag round and round each of mine feet and each of those belonging to mine friend Fidybus?  After all, strips of rag falleth well outside the dictionary definition of sandals, dost thou not agree?’ 

And behold, an veritable babel of footwear-related queries filleth the air, and Jesus raiseth his hand and saith, ‘Hold on a minute!  Let me maketh myself clear.  No sandals means nothing on thine feet, all right?  Nothing!  Neither walking boots, nor strips of rag, nor tennis shoes, nor high-heeled slingbacks, nor Wellingtons, nor roller-boots, nor skateboards, nor anything that I mighteth construe as an sandal in the broadest sense of the word.  Understandeth thou all?  Good.  Now, departeth thou in twos and -’

‘Er, excuse me, Lord.’ 

‘Yes, Thomas?’ 

‘Regarding thine command that we travel in twos.’ 

‘Yes?’ 

‘Er, no one desireth to go with Thribbiel.’ 

And the Lord enquireth, ‘Well, why doth no one desire to go with Thribbiel?  He looketh all right to me.’ 

‘He’s a bit funny, Lord.’ 

‘Well, we’re all a bit funny, aren’t we?  Anyway, I invariably organizeth it so that we have even numbers.  Who goest thou with, Thomas?’ 

Thomas replieth mournfully, ‘No one desireth to go with me either, Lord.  No one picketh me even at junior school.’ 

‘Well, for all thou knowest, Thribbiel might desire to accompany thee?’ 

‘I doubt it.’ 

‘Well, let’s ask him, shall we?  Thribbiel, dost thou wish to accompany Thomas?’ 

‘Yeah, Lord, but canst thou ask of him that he cometh over a bit less negative?  He can be an real Eeyore.’ 

‘Thomas, canst thou do that?’ 

‘I doubt it, but, verily, I will try.’ 

‘Good,’ saith the Lord, ‘now, mayhap, we can get on.  Departeth thou in twos and -’

‘Command Thribbiel that he be less funny, Lord.  There existeth little point in me being more positive if he maketh no attempt -’

‘Sorteth it out between you!’ saith the Lord.  ‘Verily, this whole affair beginneth to feel more like an Brownie picnic than a commission to establish the Kingdom of God.’  He pauseth to collect himself. ‘Now, I repeateth my command that thou departest in twos, take neither purse nor scrip nor sandals and do not greet anyone on the road.  Now, go!’ 

But immediately one of the seventy raiseth his hand to ask of the Lord if an small pink face-towel mighteth be taken, and that setteth all the others off all over again.  One enquireth concerning his personal toilet kit which fitteth nicely into an little pocket specially sewn into his robe by his mother, another pleadeth to be allowed an small stuffed animal without which he feeleth insecure at night, and yet another postulateth an situation in which he meeteth the Lord himself on the road, and querieth whether the command not to greet anyone applieth in that case, until, behold, there ariseth an great clamour of foolish enquiries. 

Then the Lord shouteth for silence, and saith, ‘Look, I don’t think we’ve quite grasped the theory behind this trip, have we?  The idea is not that thou smugglest sundry items into thine luggage using as an crummy excuse the fact that stuffed toys cometh not under the Oxford Dictionary definition of sandals, but rather that thou art dependent on me!  Understandest thou that?  No purse, no scrip, no sandals, no teddy bear, no Barclaycard – just go!’ 

Then an lengthy silence falleth, and just as Jesus believeth they are truly about to depart, an nervous hand raiseth itself. 

Jesus regardeth the owner of the hand with narrowed eyes.  ‘Yes?’ 

‘Er, regarding thy command that we should take no scrip, Lord?’ 

‘Yes.’ 

‘Well, er, to be honest, I knoweth not what an scrip is, Lord, and, well, it worrieth me that I might er, taketh an scrip without realising I’ve got it.  So I just thought…’ 

On hearing this the remaining sixty-nine scoffeth loudly, laughing, and crying, ‘Hah!  Thou dolt!  Knoweth thou not what an scrip is?  Surely all possesseth that knowledge.  What a div!’ 

Then Jesus gritteth his teeth and saith, ‘Very well, who can tell us what an scrip is?’ 

Behold, the confidence of the sixty-nine draineth away.  One hazardeth an guess that an scrip is ‘what you use in a play’. 

Jesus shaketh his head and saith, ‘All right, how many knoweth not what an scrip is?’ 

All seventy raiseth their hands. 

Jesus emitteth an little sigh, and smileth to himself, and saith, ‘Okay, taketh the weight off thine feet.  Behold, I commenceth from the beginning…’ 

That was an excerpt from a book called The Diary of Adrian Plass, aged 37 ¾, and it is a slightly different take of the reading for this morning – perhaps a more honest one. Place yourselves in the shoes of the seventy, who are being sent like lambs into the midst of wolves, completely unprepared and unable to fend for themselves, no money, no bag, no nothing. It’s only understandable that we would ask for little exemptions to these rules.

I think one reason this passage is so hard for us to understand is that it goes completely against one of the fundamental values of our culture, which is self-sufficiency.  Self-sufficiency is so important to our sense of satisfaction that there’s a whole industry dedicated to equipping us to go out and test it in ourselves.  If you go to an adventure sports store, you are going to find everything you need to make it on your own in the wilderness.  And I do mean everything: high-tech boots specialized for maximum performance in different activities; socks and clothes that keep rain out or wick sweat away from your body or trap heat in or breathe to let heat out; shelters that can withstand gale force winds but pack down to the size of pillow; food that never spoils, takes up almost no space, and tastes like it’s from a gourmet restaurant if you just add water; and so on and so on and so on.  You can be fully prepared for any contingency you might encounter while you’re alone out in the wilderness, any situation that might endanger or even just inconvenience you.

But the whole point of what Jesus is doing is ensuring that he’s sending these seventy apostles out completely unprepared!  They are not permitted to have anything that might enable them any level of self-sufficiency.  As a result of all this, they are the complete opposite of self-sufficient; their well-being is utterly dependent on the people to whom they have been sent, some of whom will respond with hostility rather than hospitality. And you can never tell which you’re going to get until it’s too late.

Perhaps as well, one of the things that scares us about Jesus’ commission is that we don’t know the indicators of success. Is the KPI that everyone in the world hears about Jesus and turns their life to him? That’s a fairly big ask for the seventy… it’s a fairly big ask for us today. And so we buy into the worldly formula for success, which is to under-promise and over-deliver as we plan our evangelism. If we do that, our plans are always successful, because we never promise more than we can achieve. The problem is, the more we do this, the more we value success over what we’re succeeding at.

Hear the good news: Jesus is not concerned about being “successful”, at least, not in the way we tend to understand it, which may be why he’s so blunt with the seventy about how difficult and dangerous this mission might be. This is not going to be easy, he tells them; not everybody can do this.  It’s going to require an extraordinary amount of time and effort; and no matter how hard you try, you’re not going to be able to control the outcome.  Some of the people you visit will not share in the peace you offer; sometimes whole towns that you visit will reject you.  But that’s not the point.  What Jesus is most concerned about is ensuring that as many people as possible get to hear from YOU the good news that God’s kingdom has come near, and how much God has done for you. That’s the point; that’s his goal, his definition of success.  Because you never really know who’s going to respond and who’s not, who’s really open to receiving the gospel in all its beauty and difficulty and complexity and grace and living their lives in it more faithfully and fully as a result.  You never really know who is desperate to hear good news; and you… WE have to go out to them because you can’t expect them to come asking about it if they haven’t even heard it.

West Epping Uniting Church is excellent at welcoming and hospitality. That is no secret. We throw an excellent lunch, we’re friendly and warm and funny and caring. But I wonder if that’s now how we evaluate our success: how many people attend worship, how many people join the church as members, or to be more crass, how many bums are on seats of a Sunday. Are we under-selling ourselves so we can over-achieve? Is it time to change our parameters for successful churchiness?

Wait, we might say; that’s not what we signed up for! That’s not why we joined this church; that’s not why I became a minister! Maybe not, Jesus agrees. But the harvest is plentiful, and the labourers are few. I send you out, my beloved followers, but I am not sending you unprepared: I give you the most good of all news to share, and look around at the partners you have to go with you and help you share it. That is enough for you; go, and you will see.

(Isenheim Altarpiece) Here’s my challenge to you: find a partner at this church – your spouse or a friend or whoever – and go out and tell someone – anyone – the good news of Christ. Go with nothing else except each other and the news itself. It could be a neighbour, or a waitress at your favourite café, or a friend you’ve known for years. Give it a go.

Let us pray.  Gracious and Loving God, you send us out into the world in uncertain times to unfamiliar places entrusting us to bear your good news.  Give us courage, patience, humility, and grace that others may hear you calling and may know the abundant life you intend for us all.  Through Christ we pray.  Amen.