The Who and the What of our journey

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

St. John’s, West Hartford, CT

July 4, 2021

Ezekiel 2:1-5; Psalm 123; Mark 6:1-13

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

I love to travel. And I have been blessed that in my current role, I get to do that a fair amount of it (the last year being a notable exception of course). I love seeing new places and meeting new people. I especially love seeing the breadth and depth and diversity of the Church in so many different places. Those of us who are frequent travelers usually have a system setup that makes it easy to pick up and go. This allows us to not be unpacking and repacking all the time. It allows us to enjoy our time at home and only have to do a little laundry. The airplane safe toiletries already in the suitcase. The backpack with snacks, a water bottle, tissues, a first aid kit, travel pillow, headphones and whatever else we might want for the next flight. We have all our stuff ready to go.

So, what are we to do with texts like our Gospel this morning. Jesus “ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics.” Take nothing for the journey? What? Nothing. Not even a change of clothes. No snacks. No money. This seems like a harsh instruction. I want to push back on the text. I want to argue with Jesus. I want to say how experienced a traveler I am, and I know what I need. It’s not much. I can carry it all myself, so really won’t it be okay if I just bring a few things? Please?!

I could get myself all worked up about this. Worked up into quite a state. Bound up in my own certainty, my own thinking. But then I pause. I take a deep breath. I hear the voices of wise and beloved people in my life who invite me to consider how my narrow focus and need to plan and be prepared might actually be keeping me from hearing the deeper message, the deeper invitation at the heart of today’s text. 

Ultimately I think there are two key points for us in this text. The first is just a few lines back in the Gospel. Notice something important here - Jesus sends them out two by two. He does not send them out alone. There is no emphasis on rugged individualism here. No lone rangers. No going it solo. The work God calls us to is meant to be done in a team, with a partner. And it is meant to be done in community. Notice that Jesus does not send them out to be hermits in the desert. He sends them to towns and villages. He sends them to share the good news with others, but invites them not to be too invested in the outcome. If what they have to offer is not received by the community, it is okay to shake the dust off your feet and move on to another place, another community. In other words, it is okay to “fail.” It’s okay if it doesn’t all go perfectly or right the first time or the fifteenth time. What matters is the journey and that we do not work alone. 

There. That’s it. Not alone. That’s what really matters. That is what Jesus is trying to communicate to the disciples. It’s about teamwork. It does not matter WHAT you take on the journey. It matters WHO is on the journey with you. Tunics and sandals and bags. That’s just stuff. You can find stuff anywhere. What is not easily found is a companion for the journey. 

And this brings us to the second point in Jesus’ commands to the disciples. Priorities. Jesus is telling them not to take all the stuff with them, because he wants them to understand that it is not about stuff. It is about people. It’s about connection and community and learning together. And the messiness and glorious joy of being in relationship with other human beings. It is about knowing that what is possible together is far more meaningful, impactful, and rewarding than what would ever be possible on our own. It’s about people.

And isn’t that a truth that we have had reinforced over this past year, over these months of challenge and struggle. No amount of stuff. No amount of two dimensional interactions on Zoom can match the glorious gift of a hug or the gift of simply being able to reach out and hold the hand of someone we love. Amidst all the stress and strain, amidst all of the loss of this year. Amidst all of it, I hope that we have also been given the gift of clarity. The opportunity to reassess our values and our priorities. Life is indeed fragile and uncertain. As the oft quoted words of poet Henri Frederic-Amiel say: “Life is short. We don't have much time to gladden the hearts of those who walk this way with us. So, be swift to love and make haste to be kind.” I hope that as the world reopens and we return to so many things we have missed - like the joy of gathering together in person to worship God - we will not lose or forget the gifts we have been given. 

We will deepen our focus on those who journey with us. We will put more energy into the WHO. We will be less concerned with the WHAT or the outcome of our efforts. It is the connection that matters. It is the relationships that matter. No doubt the world needs the Good News. No doubt it needs more love. It needs more kindness. May we be swift to share those gifts as we venture forth into the future of a world reopened. May we join together in transforming ourselves, each other, and this world to more fully resemble God’s kingdom, God’s dream. A more beautiful future is possible, if we have the courage to follow Jesus’ lead and step into it together. Amen. 

A sprinkling of salt

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer

February 9, 2021

Psalm 8; 2 Tim. 1:1-14; Mark 9:42-50

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

As many of you know, I love to cook. And one of my favorite things to make is chocolate chip cookies. I alternate between traditional regular chocolate chip cookies and an “everything but the kitchen sink” version that is a chocolate cookie with nuts and three kinds of chips - dark chocolate, white chocolate and peanut butter. I love them both for very different reasons. I recently made a discovery that the dark chocolate cookies were made even better if I sprinkled them with salt as soon as they came out of the oven. 

That’s the thing about salt. Just a little bit of it opens up a whole new set of flavors. But the “little bit” is key. I am sure we have all had the experience of eating something that has been over salted. There is a fine line between flavor enhancement and inedibility. A little bit is amazing. Too much is ruinous. 

Today’s Gospel is all about what gets in the way of us deepening our relationship with God. What are our stumbling blocks? What keeps us from living more fully into who God calls us to be? 

But it is that last part about salt. About having salt. About being salt. About finding peace that really caught my attention. It gave me pause, because I will admit that first portion about stumbling blocks felt like an admonition. Stumbling blocks, God? You want to talk about stumbling blocks, okay. No problem. I have a long list for you. There is a global pandemic. We are all working from home. We are utterly exhausted, and while there is a light at the end of this tunnel it is still too far away. Not enough people are getting vaccines fast enough. We miss being together - in person! We are weighed down by the enormous challenges facing our nation and our world right now. Poverty, Racism, Sexism, Environmental Degradation, name your issue. See God, we have plenty of stumbling blocks! 

But then I pause. Then I think about what some of the wisest voices I know might say to me. . . Molly, take a deep breath. Think about that list for a moment. What is notable about it? Oh. You mean the part where I have conveniently named only external stumbling blocks and failed to take responsibility for what I might do differently. You mean that might be part of the problem? Oh and externalizing everything might also cut me off from the gift of being able to connect more deeply with God and those around me? Oh, yeah, that’s not very helpful. 

And I go back to the salt. I think about how just a little bit makes a difference. What if that were true here too? What if I don’t in fact have to fix all the world’s problems today. What if I don’t have to make a seismic shift in my spiritual practices? What if, at least for today, it is not about transforming everything? What if, at least for today, it was just about the small steps, the sprinkling of salt that might be life giving? That might move us one step closer to the depth we crave, to the coming of the kingdom?

In my current state of pandemic overwhelm, coupled with my task oriented, achievement driven personality, I needed that reminder that it does not (and probably cannot nor should not) all be done today. Small steps are okay. For today, for now, they are enough. As the Carrie Nicewander song we listened to last week says, every small kindness shifts the balance toward the light. 

I hope that resonates for you. I hope that you feel your burdens lightened. I hope that you feel more glimmers of hope and possibility. I hope that you feel inspired to seek out the small ways that you might deepen your connection to God. A few more deep breaths. A little more quiet. A little more time outside. Choosing relationship over task a little more often. Reaching out just to say “hi.” A little more time for prayer. A little more time to feed our souls. 

I trust that all those sprinkles of salt, all those small steps, all those moments will enrich us and nourish us so that we might have what we need to be a part of the transformation of the world, together. Amen.