Then he went about among the villages teaching. 7 He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. 8 He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; 9 but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. 10 He said to them, “Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. 11 If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.” 12 So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. 13 They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.
This text has always had special meaning for me. Long before completing my college degree, and two graduate degrees from Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, there was Arizona.
Some of you have heard my “Aldersgate” story of how, as a first-year college student, I had a “shake up” from God. As a church-honed, young “Christian” who believed in God, Jesus, etc., I found myself having an unsettling one-on-one with what I assumed was God, one late evening in my college dorm room. And no, I had not been drinking, nor had I had any “whacky tobaccy,” either. The “conversation” was pretty one-sided, with God complimenting me on being a good church “Christian” who prayed a list of “God-bless-its” and the Lord’s Prayer each evening, but who had pretty much taken the planning out of my life into my own hands. I would ask God to “bless” my decisions, but really never asked God’s advice, much. And now, I was being “corrected” for this oversight. “The Talk” really DID shake me up, but it also started my faith life onto a very different—and extremely engaging—path. I ended the evening a bit confused about whether I had been called into the ministry, or something, but knew that if so, the “call” was incomplete. I took a bus home that weekend to confer with my home pastor, the Rev. Hugh Crocker. He was most helpful, after hearing my story, first by affirming the possibility that God “might” call me, as he saw my leadership and involvement in the church youth group as good signs of this. However, he also heard my assessment that if it was a call, it wasn’t clear. I remember him telling me, “Give it time. Don’t rush God! If God IS calling you, God will make it crystal clear—in time.” I found that comforting.
Later that year, I met up with a church friend whose faith always seemed more “active” and “everyday” than mine. He was attending a very strict Christian college, and was home on Fall break. When I told him about my “chat” with God, and how this had seriously activated my own faith, which now included voracious Bible study and much more planned and “reactive” prayer on a daily basis, he was beyond intrigued. Over the next few months, every time he was home, we would get together to compare notes. A close friendship developed, and I dare say it was one of “discipleship,” and not just fellowship.
Fast-forward to the Spring of 1973. My friend not only came home from college for the Summer, but thanks to a bit of a “backslide” and getting himself In a bit of teenage trouble at a school that didn’t abide such things well, he was told he was suspended for the Fall term. If he cleaned up his act, and wrote an apologetic narrative showing how he was “revived” in his faith and ethics, they may welcome him back for the Spring term of 1974. Well, he DID, in fact, get his act together, and we began spending time with other local teen Christians going to Bible studies and Christian “rock” concerts, and other faith-based youth gatherings. It was during this time that “Arizona” began to happen.
Yours Truly felt God leading me to drop out of school for the Fall term and “head West” on a kind of faith/ministry pilgrimage. Since I would just be turning 19 in the Fall, this sounded pretty strange to my parents, but since they were happy that I was spending my time in Christian activities and fellowship, rather than going out on weekend benders like some of my other friends, they kept open minds. I spoke to my discipleship friend about this, and he was soon excited about “the mission,” as well. His very strict parents took a Summer’s worth of persuading to allow him to join me on the quest, but by the end of the Summer, they were on board, too. Our faith-based wanderlust seemed strange, but again, it was a Christ-centered endeavor, and our parents and other close friends had come to see how serious we were. Now all that remained was the where and how.
Take a look at the Mark text. Jesus tells the disciples—who were being sent out two-by-two—to trust God to prepare the way. My good friend and I took this text very literally (something that was usually part of our “Jesus People” faith in the early 1970s), so we prayed for a direction and a way to get to it, as neither of us owned a car, and this was a time when most middle-class families owned ONE car, if they were fortunate to have one at all.
For two young “disciples,” the answers came fast and furious, and sure seemed like God-ordained miracles to us. An older friend from my hometown, who had himself entered a close relationship with Jesus Christ while in college, was now teaching in a small town in Arizona. He was home for the summer, and when he heard of our plans, offered us a ride with him back to Arizona at the end of the Summer. My friend suggested we aim to go to Scottsdale, Arizona, at that time a suburb of Phoenix. His family had lived there for a few years when his father was completing a graduate degree at Arizona State, and they had friends who would be willing to host us for a week or so, until we could find our own place to live and acquire jobs to pay the rent. Both of us pretty much sold all of our possessions so we had a cache of cash, and our large hoard of teenage Christian friends gave us a big sendoff and promised to keep us in prayer. We still didn’t know why God was “sending” us, but we now had a vector and a way to get there.
To keep this story from getting as “epic” as it could, let me just say that the whole adventure was amazing. We really experienced God working out every detail of “the mission.” We had a glorious trip with our teacher/friend, were lovingly hosted by a family my friend had known from before, and within a week, had settled into a brand new, furnished apartment, and each of us had landed jobs just perfect for our vocational interests. Now, the question of why we were here remained. The answer came on Sunday.
We attended a Baptist church that some of my friends past acquaintances attended, and discovered that a delightful, young couple who had served as the volunteer youth leaders for a large and growing group of high-schoolers, had just announced they were moving to California. Upon hearing that my friend and I had been leading Bible studies, teaching Sunday School classes, and had served as Christian camp counselors, they asked if we might take the job. The pastor called us in for a “get to know you,” for who knows, we could have been Manson gang people, or whatever. But after about an hour-long interview, he was convinced we had “the spark,” and might be good for the youth group.
Again, to try to condense the story, we had an unbelievable experience in the Fall of 1973. We bonded with that youth group and led them in all kinds of activities, all while they showed us all over their part of Arizona. We went on retreats with other Christian groups we met, served as prayer partners for a giant concert by one of our favorite, nationally-known Christian rock bands of the day (“Love Song”), and met some of the most interesting people in the world. Our great adventure was “destined” to end by the beginning of December, as our apartment was originally built for the “snowbirds,” and our rent would be increased by a factor of TEN, as of December 1. Besides, my friend had redeemed himself with his college, thanks to our “mission,” which he detailed in a long letter to the administration, and he had been invited back as of the first of the year. We had a celebratory Thanksgiving dinner with all of our Arizona “family,” and with the money we had saved, bought two tickets to fly home in time for Christmas with our families and friends back in Pennsylvania.
We really felt like we had lived out the Mark 6 story. Metaphorically, a lot of “demons” were cast out, not only in our faith experiences, but any that would ever cause us to doubt what we could accomplish, with God’s call and God’s provision. Now, I don’t know if God watched over us so well because we were two, young and naïve teens, or whether God really DID send us on “the mission,” but we were both forever changed, and we both eventually entered full time Christian service. We heard from the Arizona group that a number of them, too, had answered God’s call to some form of mission or ministry, which confirmed for us that our “mission” was not just a pipedream. I can honestly say that my life has been very different, thanks to the Arizona adventure. About that trip, I could say something similar to what the writer of the Gospel of John says near the end of his text, that “all the books in the world” couldn’t contain all of the stories about what Jesus did. Similarly, this short message can’t begin to chronicle our myriad stories of Arizona!
I chose to share this personal experience story as my exegesis of the Mark 6 passage this week, because I really think it captures the gist of Jesus’ call to a step in faith, with no guarantees. I do NOT advocate that this is for everyone, but when God calls you to step out on faith and to TRUST God to lead and provide, don’t miss the opportunity to put Mark 6 into practice! You will never be the same! Amen!
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