Scripture scholars and preachers
often tell us that
this passage speaks to the
importance of “Travelling Light.”
They remind us (rightly) that we cannot effectively
carry the Gospel message
if we are burdened down
with the flotsam and jetsam
that chokes our culture,
crowds our closets,
overflows our storage units,
fills our hearts and minds,
demands our attention,
bends our backs,
and forces us to pay overweight baggage fees.
Jesus commands:
no food,
no sack,
no money,
no second tunic.
No Grubhub,
No Gucci bag,
No Amex Centurian,
No air buds, ipads, Meta Quest,
6 pairs of shoes,
5 golden rings
4 extra suitcases,
or a partridge in a pear tree.
Traveling light offers us freedom.
This freedom allows us to pivot,
to pause,
to exit quickly if things go south,
to engage with people and places
along the way
instead of focusing on
what we must protect,
what we must store,
what we must drag behind us
like Wylie Coyote
lugging an anvil up a cliff.
Jesus invited his disciples
into an itinerant ministry
that was wholly dependent
on the generosity and kindness of strangers.
Since Jesus was sometimes accused
of being a drunk and a glutton—
a person overly fond of feasting with his friends—
this sending forth
with nothing but a staff,
sandals,
and tunic,
may be more a call to radical faith
and dependence on the providence of God,
than it is a call to absolute poverty.
But…here’s the thing.
We focus so much
upon what the disciples
didn’t carry,
we forget to consider what they did.
They were sent out
with the commission
to preach,
to cast out demons,
to heal the sick,
and Jesus specifically instructed them
to take nothing but a tunic,
sandals
and a walking stick.
The tunic and sandals are
practical gear,
handy if you don’t want to be
arrested for indecent exposure
or laid up with crippling blisters
and a bad case of sunburn.
And in that same vein,
a walking stick
offered protection from wild humans
and rabid beasts.
A staff could ward off a snarling dog
or persuade a robber
it would be the better part of valor
to just move on.
On the dusty roads
leading to hillside villages,
a staff offered sure footing and a steady stride.
But in the ancient world,
a staff was much more than,
well…a staff.
A staff,
rod,
walking stick
call it what you will,
was much more than a simple
aid to mobility
or stout deterrent to crime.
A staff was a tool,
an evocative symbol,
a recording device,
an axis
connecting God and humanity.
Staffs and scepters
were symbols of divine kingship
and imperial authority
as early as 6,000 B.C.
in Egypt and the Ancient Near East.
The image of a staff
was used in the hieroglyph of the words,
“nobleman” and “official.”
In the Greco-Roman pantheon,
the staff was an important attribute
of Hermes and Iris,
the messengers and heralds
of the gods of Olympus.
Asclepius,
the Greco-Roman god of medicine
was a well-known figure
in the world of first century Judea.
Asclepius carried a snake-entwined staff,
and his powers were believed to include
not only healing the sick
but defeating Hades,
the god of the underworld,
and raising the dead to life.
As the Hebrew people longed for freedom,
Aaron threw down his staff before Pharaoh
and it became a snake.
When Pharaoh's sorcerers did the same,
in an act demonstrating God's power and authority,
Aaron’s staff swallowed theirs up.
In the Exodus experience,
Moses raised his staff to part the Red Sea,
and used it to strike a rock,
creating a spring for the Israelites.
In Psalm 23
and in the image of Jesus the Good Shepherd,
a staff and a rod symbolize a Lord
who is trustworthy,
strong,
protective of the flock.
The staff became a powerful symbol
of God’s care and guidance.
Some scholars note that shepherds
even notched or marked their crooks
to record and recall special events
and to remind themselves of God’s protection.
The staff of wood,
cut from a living tree,
could also symbolize the tree of life,
a line, or axis, connecting God with humanity.
So,
in telling the disciples to carry a staff
Jesus was saying much more than,
“Beware of the Dog,”
and “Watch your Step.”
Jesus was naming something powerful.
He was claiming something important
for his disciples--
something laden with meaning
and filled with purpose and mission.
Jesus was saying to them,
and to us,
Go as my Preachers.
Go as my Healers.
Go as my Prophets.
Go as my Leaders.
Go as my Shepherds.
Go as my Heralds.
Go as Keepers of Memory.
Go, as Living Trees,
with your roots planted deeply
and your branches stretching to God.
Go,
as ones sent with my divine authority.
So, they went off and preached repentance. The Twelve drove out many demons, and they anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.
May the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ enlighten the eyes of our hearts, that we may know what is the hope that belongs to our call.
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