A Leap of Faith into Discipleship ~ Luke 10:1-11, 16-20 ~ Seventh Sunday after Pentecost

During my grade-school years, on any given Monday night at 8:00, you could find me in the same place: parked in front of the television—to watch the show named for my childhood hero, MacGyver.

If you don’t know who (or what) MacGyver is, MacGyver is a government secret agent, kind of like James Bond, except he’s traded in his tuxedo and charming British accent for a roughed-up leather jacket and a hairdo consisting of the biggest mullet allowed by law in the eighties.

What made MacGyver so unique is that he never carried a gun—because he didn’t have to.  His mind was the ultimate weapon.  He had the wits and ingenuity to outsmart his enemies and save the day using whatever stuff he happened to find at the time.  On one occasion, he disarmed two assassins armed with rocket-propelled grenades, using only shoelaces, a paper clip, monkey wrench, and some duct tape.  Another time, he disarmed a nuclear warhead with a tennis racket.  If you’re curious about how he does it, you’ll have to get the DVD on Netflix.

MacGyver could be sent on any mission, without any gear or weapons—yet he’d always get the job done with whatever he found. 

Look at today’s Gospel, as Jesus sends seventy people out into the towns, two-by-two, and you’d think he’s sending out seventy “MacGyvers”– because he allows them to take nothing on their journey, beyond their partner and the clothes on their backs.  There are no pre-arrangements for their room and board; no formal training for the mission.  Just basic instructions: go to a town, enter a house and say, “peace to this house.”  If they’re welcome, they are to go throughout the town, curing the sick and proclaiming the kingdom of God.  The people they serve will then provide their room and board. 

Jesus warns them (in no uncertain terms) to expect rejection.  But in the event of this, they are to shake the dust off their feet and carry on. 

Doubtless this will be the adventure of a lifetime for the seventy—because they’ll be totally reliant upon the grace of God, not just for the outcome of their mission, but even for meeting their most basic needs along the way.  This is how discipleship works.  So what would you do if you were one of those seventy?  Would you go?  Or would you say “no”?

If someone asked you if you thought of yourself as a disciple, would you say yes? 

Most of us have a rather comfortable understanding of discipleship.  We pray, we study the word and come to church, we try and help people, and do what’s right.  We’ll talk openly about our faith if we’re fairly certain it won’t offend people.  In sum, we accept a kind of non-threatening discipleship—so that it won’t disrupt our plans, so that it won’t have us feeling uncomfortable, or get in the way of our other plans.  A discipleship that fits neatly into our crowded lives, so that it’s safe, convenient, and not cramping our style.  Something for “when we have time” and everything else in life is all neat and in-order.  Something for when we aren’t “bone-tired…”

But do you experience discipleship as a radical reliance on the grace of God—and not just for matters related to your faith and your church, but for everything in life?

We can’t overlook the fact that these seventy “apostles” were not unlike us.  They knew the pressures of work and family.  They had weaknesses; they had fears; surely they had their doubts about what Jesus was sending them to do. 

That’s the problem with true discipleship: it will always feels as though Jesus is demanding of us that which we have none to give; as if to pour out wine from an empty cup. 

But discipleship is a life of doing and living according to Jesus’ word—that is sustained by Jesus’ word.  It’s not dependent on our circumstances or our abilities or on us “having it all together.”  It’s a life lived totally by the abiding grace of God.  It’s not so much about what you do for Christ as it is Christ himself coming alive within you. 

And this isn’t a life you choose.  It’s a life chosen for you.  Jesus doesn’t make you a disciple to add one more burden to your busy life.  You are a disciple so that you may know Jesus Christ as he abides with you and as he heals this world… 

It all begins at your baptism—and it goes from there…

So get to know Jesus.  Open the word and let him speak to you.  Eat and drink of his body and blood.  Speak to him your deepest hurts and greatest longings in prayer. 

Get to know his people.  Far too many Christians live the faith all by themselves.  But it doesn’t work that way.  There’s a reason why Jesus sent the seventy out in pairs.  You need other people to encourage you and pray for you.  You need other people to help you discover your spiritual gifts and give you the courage to use them.  And you can never have too many friends in Christ.

As you get to know Jesus, get to know your world.  Do you see things going on around you that really bother you?  Does your heart burn with sadness for people in need?  That burning in your heart is Jesus, softly and tenderly calling you to do something. 

And yes, you’re going to feel powerless to do anything about it.  You’re going to feel as though you don’t have time or energy to make any kind of difference.  But this is where the Spirit comes in.  If your cup is empty of strength and energy and wisdom and time, the Spirit will fill you with grace. 

And rest assured, two things will happen: nothing.  You’ll pour yourself out, and it’ll appear as if you haven’t made the slightest bit of difference.  So be patient.  Trust Jesus and his word. Don’t let the disappointment discourage you.  Be assured that you will come back from the journey just like the seventy—overjoyed at God will do with you and through you.  Someone who’s weak, afraid, broken, without the time or energy—doing incredible works by the Spirit of God.  This is who a disciple is.  This is who you are called to be today.

It’s all about everyday leaps of faith that turn into extraordinary moments of healing and grace.