Your Missionary Journey: Acts 16:9-15 - Sixth Sunday of Easter

⁹During the night Paul had a vision: there stood a man of Macedonia pleading with him and saying, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” ¹⁰When he had seen the vision, we immediately tried to cross over to Macedonia, being convinced that God had called us to proclaim the good news to them.

  ¹¹We set sail from Troas and took a straight course to Samothrace, the following day to Neapolis, ¹²and from there to Philippi, which is a leading city of the district of Macedonia and a Roman colony. We remained in this city for some days. ¹³On the sabbath day we went outside the gate by the river, where we supposed there was a place of prayer; and we sat down and spoke to the women who had gathered there. ¹⁴A certain woman named Lydia, a worshiper of God, was listening to us; she was from the city of Thyatira and a dealer in purple cloth. The Lord opened her heart to listen eagerly to what was said by Paul. ¹⁵When she and her household were baptized, she urged us, saying, “If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come and stay at my home.” And she prevailed upon us. (NRSV)

Boat at Sea by Christina Kekka. Creative commons image on flickr

When Saturday rolls around, I always look forward to sleeping in. 

A friend of ours likes to get up early and drives to cities and towns, seemingly at random—in order to share his faith with the people he encounters.

To be clear, he’s not one of those “eccentrics” you see walking around with bullhorns and posters, shouting out to anyone who will listen.  He prays as he walks the streets—and he always finds someone to talk to, which often opens the door for him to share his faith.  (He is Lutheran, by the way…)

That seems so surreal to me—maybe it’s because I don’t share his spiritual gift; or maybe because I don’t understand how such a ministry can even be possible. 

But he can’t help himself.  He loves Jesus—and he wants others to love him too…

He is, in every sense of the word, a modern-day apostle like St. Paul and many others we encounter in the pages of Scripture…

Today in our first reading from Acts, Paul has a vision during the night in which a man from Macedonia is pleading with him to come and help us.  He gets up, and he goes!  (Bear in mind that this is a 150-mile journey by boat across the Aegean Sea!)  Eventually, he and his traveling companions end up in Philippi.  Chances are, they don’t know where to begin their ministry—so they go down by the river to pray.  That is where they encounter a group of women.  Among them is a worshiper of God named Lydia, from Thyatira (which is back in Asia, where they just came from).  We are told that the Lord “opens her heart to listen eagerly to Paul’s words.”  Subsequently, she and her household are baptized.  And then she opens her home to the apostles.  This will mark the beginning of Christianity in Europe. 

What I find so amazing about this story is that Paul didn’t have a strategy or a plan for his ministry.  They pray and they go. 

Could you picture yourself taking a missionary journey like this?  I can’t say that I do.  Quite frankly, I’m not always sure if I’d even want to.  It all seems so daunting—journeying to a foreign land, starting with nothing; with no guarantees of success.  It’s dangerous, too—Paul and his buddy Silas will land in prison before chapter 16 ends. 

Yet these apostles go with a bold, passionate faith.  They encounter women who listen.  Lydia gives them room and board, and will share with them the mantle of leadership in the new Church that is born.  People will be dramatically transformed.  Needs will be met.  New life in Jesus will abound. 

If that’s what God made happen in Macedonia, what about “our little neck of the woods?”  What is Jesus doing here—and who is he sending?  Who will we meet when we go? 

So often, when I’ve thought of ministry, it’s felt foreign to me; like something meant for other people.  Don’t you need ironclad faith?  Shouldn’t you have it all together?  Must you have “all the right gifts?”  Don't you need to know the bible well enough to be able to answer every question?  In this day and age, with Christianity declining and congregations struggling, is it wise or even worthwhile to go on a missionary journey at all?

But remember Paul’s dream: when God’s people cry out in need, Jesus responds.  Jesus sends ordinary people like you and me on missionary journeys.  But Jesus doesn’t send you out of guilt or obligation. Jesus sends you so that you can be alive in him!  He goes ahead of you to provide whatever you need, including people.

When people need Jesus and his love, God will always make a way.

You may not think of your life as a missionary journey, but it is.  The journey may take you across continents; to new and unfamiliar territories, or to the places you live, work, and play.  It doesn’t matter.  Jesus isn’t sending you to do his errands.  He isn’t even sending you to convert people.  Jesus is sending you to be a part of what he is already doing.  He is sending you to those who cry out in need and want.  You will meet him in the people you meet, as they meet him in you.  He is sending you share in the new creation he is bringing, for all people.

Every missionary journey begins with prayer.  We close our eyes in prayer so that Jesus is our only focus—for Jesus to reopen our eyes to see what he wants us to see.  This is what we will do as a Church.  We close our eyes to life’s pressures and terrors.  We close our eyes to the bright lights and shiny things beckoning us to self-indulgent pleasure and glory.  Jesus will open your eyes to see those who need Jesus’ life and love that we can share.  Jesus will go before you and make the way to where he wants you to be.  Jesus will draw you to the people with whom you will grow in faith, hope, and love. 

The missionary journey isn’t so much about work as it is about relationships.  We share in the love of Jesus as we share our lives with one another.  The journey may take you near or far, high or low, through perils unknown—but we go because we are journeying straight into the heart of Jesus, into the resurrection of all things.