Ditching the Backpacks - Matthew 9:35-10:23
I want to talk with you this morning about backpacks. Whether or not you currently own a backpack, we all have one, metaphorically speaking. And we wear them all the time. Our backpacks are filled with things that shape how we see the world. Some of those things are personal, like our own life experiences, and others are things we share in common. The backpack we each wear influences how we see everything. As one historian noted, we can’t even go hiking in nature without lugging our cultural backpacks onto the trail. When we go out in the wilderness, we end up assigning certain meanings to things like rocks and trees and wildlife. Consider a mountain, which in and of itself is just a mountain, but with our cultural packs on, we might see that mountain as majestic or timeless. Our backpacks go with us wherever we go.
I’ve been thinking quite a lot lately about what’s in my backpack, and I imagine you have, too. In these anxious and turbulent times, we have an opportunity to become more aware of the contents of our backpacks. Often unconsciously, we carry around some wonderful things, and some not wonderful things. On a positive note, a global pandemic has caused me to be more mindful of the health and security that my family has, particularly while so many are suffering physically and economically. Daily gratitude now occupies a larger section of my pack. But there are other things in there that I am not proud of and would prefer not to see. A global Black Lives Matter protest has prompted me to look more honestly at how I have benefited from structural racism and white privilege in my life. I noted, for example, that I never wondered whether my parents would have been able to own their home if their skin was a different color, and how my own opportunities growing up were shaped by their privilege. I have been thinking in new ways about how much I take for granted as a white woman, including not worrying about my boys going for a jog or getting pulled over by the police. Shame -for all the times I have been silent or disengaged in anti-racism work - now occupies a larger part of the pack. As you and I know, shame in any form can really weigh our packs down. And parting with those heavy packs can feel difficult if not impossible.
It’s interesting that Jesus gives us that very task. We just heard part of what’s called the missionary discourse, one of the five speeches by Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew. This is the one in which he commissions the disciples to share in his ministry - they are to go around proclaiming the good news, that the Kingdom of heaven has come near, and then cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, and cast out demons. No small task. He reminds them that the amount of suffering in the world is vast, the harvest is plentiful. In fact, in the Greek, Jesus himself has a strong, visceral, gut reaction to people’s suffering all around him, the ones Matthew calls the harassed and helpless crowds. Isn’t it strange sometimes how reading a first century text can feel like watching twenty-first century news? If you are overwhelmed by the widespread suffering and conflict in today’s crowds, you are in good and divine company.
Sending out the disciples is a familiar story to many of us, but I’ve always thought there is something strange about Jesus’ specific instructions. “Take no gold, or silver, or copper in your belts, and no bag for your journey,” he says. They are supposed to rely strictly on the hospitality of others. In an interesting detail, the Common English Bible translates the word for bag as backpack. They cannot bring their backpacks with them. And by extension, as disciples of Jesus ourselves, we have to leave our backpacks behind, too. It has always seemed strange to me that they can’t take even basic provisions for the road. Jesus must be up to something more, as usual. Perhaps having to depend on those with whom they will minister will heal something in the disciples that needs to be healed.
I think we are used to thinking about ministry and following Jesus in terms of giving to others. We use words like mission and outreach, all of which are fine. But also insufficient. We ought to be thinking about ministry as relational. How often do we ask about what we receive in what is actually a mutual exchange of human connection (pulpit fiction)? I think this is why Jesus said to leave the backpacks behind. If we come to the work of Christ with our backpacks full of the things we think protect us or separate us from others, we have already cut ourselves off from the work. Jesus seems to be saying that in order to follow him, we will have to let go of our power, and be vulnerable. No backpacks, no armor, no blindness to privilege or hardness of heart, only real relationship.
We live in a time of rising anger and hatred, widespread suffering, and deepening division. Some of that comes from the stuff we’d rather not look at in our backpacks. Ditch the pack, Jesus says. Be vulnerable with one another, and do the work of the gospel together. Jesus does not promise that the road to the Kingdom of heaven will be easy or smooth. There are some intimidating verses in chapter 10 about wolves and kings and family strife, which will make any disciple think twice. But Jesus is right - we are in the work of healing the world together. And it’s time to ditch the cultural backpacks that get in the way.