“Near the Kin[g]dom”
July 6, 2025
Rev. Rebecca Migliore
We have started on our long journey of Ordinary Time with Jesus. We have been reminded to move past our safe spaces, to move past our ordinary routines, to move past looking back—in other words to move forward with God. And this week, Jesus sends disciples out to live out what he has been telling them. And on this 4th of July weekend where we celebrate what is good about our country, I was interested in how Jesus sent them out.
We often think of ourselves as individualists: the pioneer, the cowboy, the entrepreneur. Jesus makes sure that he sends his disciples out in pairs. Two by two. And there aren’t just a handful of these pairs. He has picked 72 from among his followers—many more than the 12 whose names we know. The writers of the gospels might say that the harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few, but from the perspective of a small church, 36 pairs sounds like a lot of people!
And maybe you need a companion on this journey because Jesus doesn’t suit you up in armor to protect you; Jesus doesn’t send you on your way with a picnic basket for provisions; Jesus doesn’t let you have a change of clothes! These pairs are sent out with one another and with the spirit of God. Now, this may be a bit of bad news for us. Because I don’t know about you, but I have sometimes felt like I didn’t have the knowledge or the experience or the ability for something that God was asking me to do. Jesus sent these out into a possibility hostile world (he does call them lambs among the wolves!) with very little other than their belief and one another. That’s a challenge for us certainly. No excuses.
Jesus also recognizes that not everyone will be welcoming to his followers (didn’t we just hear about a village that didn’t welcome him?). No matter. Greet everyone with “Peace on this house.” (Peace be with you). If they are open to you, your peace will rest on them—and if not, you won’t have lost anything, your peace will return to you. A wonderful image for putting yourself out there. And although it doesn’t say so explicitly, this part of the passage points out something that Jesus does send us out with—peace, the peace of God, the peace that can pass all understanding, the peace (the shalom) of knowing that you are asked to do your best to bring justice, to live out mercy, to walk continually hand in hand with our God.
They are sent out with a three-point charge: Eat, Cure, Say. Eat what is put before you. Eat at the house that first invites you in (don’t go roaming around to find a better table or nicer hosts). Eating is so important for Jesus. Eating with one another. Inviting even those who are on the outskirts in, not just to listen, not just to be healed, not just to be around, but to eat together—one of the most intimate things we can do. What is one of the most sacred symbols we have, we do as Christians, but gather at the Lord’s Table and eat and drink together. Jesus commands us to Eat.
Cure. Jesus has an expectation that those who are his followers will be concerned with those around us. Cure the sick who are there, he says. I’m not sure exactly what that means—I don’t know if these followers had the ability to make diseases disappear, to make the lame walk and the blind to see. Most of us do not have that ability. But we can have a listening ear, we can offer a helping hand, we can alleviate some of the hurt of our world.
So none of us gets a pass at this. Along with eating with others, sitting down and sharing food and drink and fellowship, we are expected to engage with others, to be intent on what it is that they need, what we might be able to do for them, how we can be part of what our Jewish siblings call Tikkun Olam “the repair of the world” or what Rev. Dr. Barber has called his organization “repairers of the breach.” Jesus commands us to Cure.
Say. It’s interesting what Jesus tells his disciples to say. Not “I’ve found the Messiah.” Not “I’ve got it all figured out.” Not “God sent me to tell you…” No, Jesus says, say this: “The kin[g]dom of God has come near to you.” And you say this whether you have been welcomed or not. And there is this really powerful image of what to do when you are not welcomed. Jesus says don’t let anyone who does not welcome you shut you down, don’t let anything stand in the way of moving forward with what God has asked of you. Shake it off! You can publicly go into the streets and say, “even the dust of your town, which clings to our feet, we wipe off in protest of you!”
What a great way of physically, mentally, emotionally, putting any failure, any unwelcoming behind you. You shake it off. You literally do the Godly hokey poky and shake off the dust of their streets, shake off the looks of their faces, shake off their unkind words, shake off the encounter—BUT… Jesus does there have to be a but? I was feeling so good about shaking off that place! Okay, Jesus, what is this but? But, then say, “Even though you have not welcomed us, know this: The Kin[d]om of God has come near.” Yes, Say it everywhere—the kin[g]dom of God has come near.
So what did Jesus expect would happen when the disciples went out? What were they supposed to learn? What did he think they would experience? Were they to learn to lean on each other? Were they to grow strong in relying on just themselves (with a little help from others and a lot of help from God)? Was it to see how many people there are who need us? Was it to experience how beautiful and varied we are, those who are created in the image of God? Was it to make them humble as they received food, as they passed along healing, as they shared their most prized possession (that the kin[g]dom of God was close at hand!)?
And what would that look like for us? Aren’t we also sent out by Jesus (every single Sunday, every single day)? Does Jesus want us to eat, to cure, to say? As I thought about the answer to this question, I came across a real-life story by Richard Swanson, a former pastor and professor of religion. Here it is, in his own words.
“In the congregation I served, now a very long time ago, one of the finest cooks around was a member of a family that did not have much in the way of resources. What they had in abundance was hospitality. Our family had been invited to supper at their house. It was meatloaf. It was amazing meatloaf. Nedra could make flavors dance. The preparation was perfect. The gift of the meal was wonderful.
During supper, someone knocked on the door. It was a young man, someone I did not know. He stood outside on the front steps. I could hear what I thought was someone crying. Arnie brought him into the living room, just off the small dining room. They spoke softly for a while. Arnie went into the bedroom, also just off the dining room. He came back with his Sunday shirt.
I heard the young man leave. Arnie came back to the table and told Nedra he would need her to mend a shirt.
It turned out that the young man had a job interview the next day and had just ripped a big three-corner tear in his only good white shirt. He needed the job. He had been out of work for a while. Arnie gave him his only white shirt. The next Sunday in church, I noticed that Arnie was wearing a shirt with a three-corner tear that had been expertly mended. Turns out Nedra could also sew.
The more years I have to remember that evening, the better the food tastes.
Jesus tells the messengers to go out with no resources. One of them might even have ripped his only good shirt.
Eat whatever they set before you. Even if they do not cook as well as Nedra cooked. Oh, and heal the sick.
And in the receiving and giving of gifts, the reign of God comes to human community.” (from Working Preacher commentary, July 6, 2025).
Jesus turns to us and says, Go and do likewise.
May it be so, Alleluia, Amen.