Trinity II
Romans 5. 1 – 8
Matthew 9. 35—10. 8
Fr Alex
This passage we’ve just heard is a bit of a turning point for the disciples in Matthew’s Gospel. So far they’ve been listening to Jesus, hearing his teaching, and watching with amazement as he performs his miracles.
He’s guided them from village to village, shown them the way, handled all the tricky moments and taken the criticisms himself.
But now he says to them, “your turn.” He sends them out to the “lost sheep of the house of Israel,” to “proclaim the good news.” But in the verses after our reading, he warns them just how difficult this mission is going to be.
“See,” he says, “I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves … Beware of them, for they will hand you over to councils and flog you in their synagogues … Brother will betray brother to death … and you will be hated by all because of my name.”
I wonder how they must’ve felt on receiving this commission from Jesus. I wonder how you feel, hearing these words again today?
There’s a great difference, isn’t there, between supporting a cause, and actually taking action yourself, and risking the consequences.
In trying to imagine what this change in fortunes was like for the disciples, strangely enough I was put in mind of a story about Charles Blondin, the great 19th Century tightrope walker. Have you heard of him?
At the time he was a sensation, a proper A-list celebrity. His most famous performance was to walk a tightrope over the Niagara Falls – a quarter of a mile across a huge drop of 160 feet into the raging, gushing water.
Tens of thousands of people came to watch him do it. And he didn’t just do it once, he did it five or six times – each time more amazing than the last.
He walked it on stilts, he rode over on a bicycle – he even did it blindfolded.
I still struggle to believe this one, but apparently he carried a little portable stove out to the middle of the rope and cooked an omelette!
The last time, he pushed a wheelbarrow full of potatoes over the tightrope, and when he got to the other side, he shouted, “Do you think I can carry a person over the falls in this wheelbarrow?”
The cheering crowds shouted back, “Of course you can! … We believe in you!” So Blondin said, “Right, who wants to get into the wheelbarrow then?”
There’s a sense in which faith is a bit like stepping into the wheelbarrow. Like the disciples, we can rejoice in the wonderful things that Jesus has done for us. We can say that we have faith and believe in God.
We can say that we’re happy to follow Jesus – but how do we feel about being sent out to share his good news with others – to face the dangers of ridicule and rejection? Or, like some of our fellow Christians around the world, persecution and even death? In other words, how do we feel about stepping into the wheelbarrow?
The key is in our first reading, from St Paul’s Letter to the Romans. Because of our faith in this Jesus – our willingness to follow him – we are given the grace to help us stand, and not to fall.
God doesn’t just love us from afar, he has poured his love into our hearts through the Holy Spirit. And we don’t receive this incredible gift because of our goodness or purity or cleverness or whatever it is – far from it. God’s love is proved in that while we were still sinners, Christ came and died for us.
And so as we think about the disciples’ mission, or our own Christian calling, and we feel daunted or discouraged – we remember that God gives us the gifts we need to fulfil his mission. He never asks more of us than we can accomplish – and he helps us to accomplish it, through the gifts of his Spirit.
Even when things become so desperate that we suffer for this mission, we can still boast, we can rejoice in this great love. We don’t boast about suffering – there’s no glory in someone suffering.
But we boast in our sufferings, while we are suffering; because in those moments we are made ever more aware of the power of God within us to help us overcome.
We are given the strength to endure, and by enduring we become more convinced of our identity as followers of Christ – the fulfilment of our very character as human beings.
And as we are strengthened in this identity, we can hold on to the great hope that Christ gives us. All this St Paul teaches us in that little chunk of his letter.
Jesus doesn’t send his disciples out without first equipping them with the needful gifts of grace – we heard in the Gospel that he gave them authority and the power to do what he did.
And he does the same for us: not necessarily the power to heal people or cast out unclean spirits, though of course prayer achieves what seem like miracles every day.
But he sends us in his mission to all the world with all that we need to bring the good news of Jesus Christ to those we meet.
Strengthened by the knowledge of this power within us, I encourage you to share your faith with just one person this week. It could be someone who knows you already, another Christian, or a complete stranger. It’s perhaps daunting, but it is a joyful thing to do.
Because when people see the difference that this hope makes to our lives, that’s what inspires them to take the first step into the wheelbarrow, and begin the wonderful journey of faith.
May you be inspired and encouraged today and always, in our shared mission to the world. Amen.