After Thoughts: Seventh Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 10:1-11

A few years ago, this week’s Gospel reading about Jesus sending the 70 out in pairs came up as the kids’ Sunday School lesson for the week. So we were going to act it out. First, someone volunteered to be Jesus. Then a few agreed to be apostles. The rest of the class took the role of townspeople and gathered at the opposite end of the room.

The apostles began to prepare for their journey, putting on extra scarves, shoes, hats, shirts, getting all kitted out and packing their bags. “Jesus” notices and quickly admonishes them. “Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals.” Obediently, the apostles tossed everything aside and set off.

The townspeople waited, a large bag of sweets at the ready. When the apostles arrived at the other end of the room, and said “Peace to this house,” the townspeople could greet them and invite them in. They would all then sit down together to share a meal from the candy bag. Or they could turn the apostles away with a wave of their hand at which point the apostles were to turn, wipe their feet, and travel on. It was totally up to the townsfolk to decide. And that bag of candy? Well, if peace was made all around, everyone got a piece. A piece for peace. Otherwise, all went hungry.

The first round went as I expected. And then there came the request to play again. And again. Switching up roles each round, the game carried on for about another 20 minutes. Interesting things began to happen.

First, “Jesus” – regardless of who took on this part – became more and more verbal and physical. “I said take nothing. Are you stupid? Put all that stuff back.” With arms waving and finger pointing!

The apostles also became less tolerant of being told what to do by Jesus and of being rejected by the townsfolk. They began to argue with Jesus. “Not even this little bitty bag? How about these shoes?” And their tone with the townies? Their offering of peace took on a hint of a threat. Rather than a gentle “peace to this house,” the voices got louder, the words more provocative, with a sense of “or else” hiding beneath them.

And the townspeople? Despite the dangling carrot of chocolate and sugar, they most often chose to reject the apostles, and not just with a wave of the hand. “Get lost. We don’t want you here.”

The reason I love teaching Sunday School? I learn a lot more than I teach. This is a shining example. Reflecting on what happened in that classroom is illuminating.

If I try to take on the role of Jesus, I fail. “WWJD” just doesn’t work in this human shell. What Jesus did was unexpected, magnificent, sacred, and affirming. In other words, divine. When I get into this role? I become judgmental, know-it-all, and dogmatic. “Do as I say, you stupid people.” WDJTMTD – what did Jesus tell me to do? – is a much better question in times of turmoil.

If I become an over-zealous apostle, the same can happen. “I know you said love my neighbor, but really Jesus, that one? I don’t think you meant that guy.” Note the words that Jesus gives as greeting. “Peace to this house.” Not “Where would you say you are in your spiritual pilgrimage?” Or “If you could be sure there is a God, would you want to know Him?” Or “If you were to die tonight are you sure you’d go to heaven?” I’m not making this up – these are questions you can find when you Google “questions evangelists ask.” Jesus just says “peace.” Cool, hey? But I want to add so much more. And then, when it ticks those townspeople off, I want to really kick that dust off my feet and get out of that godforsaken place.

Is it any wonder the townspeople reject the Good News when it comes to their door as my opinion, my theology, my worship style, my interpretation of the Bible, my concept of the way the world should be? If today’s townspeople seem more hostile than ever, maybe it’s because we Christians aren’t entering into the moment with open, loving hearts. We’re out to change everyone. Make that neighbor into our idea of a good neighbor and then we’ll love him or her.

What if we stopped evangelizing and just loved our neighbors? What if we stopped trying to make God’s people conform to an outdated, idealistic concept of what Christianity is? What if we just greeted one another with the words of Jesus? “Peace to this house.”