Take Nothing. God Has Given All We Need.

Sermon for the 6th Sunday after Pentecost (Lectionary 14, Year B)
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Grace Lutheran Church, St Paul, MN
The Rev. Chris Duckworth
Sermon text: Mark 6:1-13 (Common English Bible)

Grace to you and peace, from the one who is, who was, and who is to come.  Amen.


When my dear wife was doing her graduate study,

we belonged to Prince of Peace Lutheran Church in Princeton Junction, NJ.

We arrived at the same time their new pastor, The Rev. Paul Lutz, arrived there.

He had just completed a several-year call

at our denomination’s central offices in Chicago, IL,

where he directed our church’s approach to and training for adult education,

which was shaped largely by a dynamic understanding of and approach to “discipleship.”

One of the simpler, yet most memorable, things he did at Prince of Peace

immediately upon his arrival there

was to abandon language around being church “members.”

Instead, he talked of us being disciples.

He sent emails and letters addressed to “the disciples of Christ at Prince of Peace,”

and in his sermons he called us Christ’s disciples.

Members belong to clubs. Disciples follow their Lord.

So, we were disciples.


Now, let’s be honest.

New pastor arrives and starts calling you disciples. Kinda strange, huh?

Yes, we all understand, in some abstract sense, that we are disciples.

But we are not used to, we’re not comfortable with, using that language.

Because, after all, that puts us in the Biblical story.

That puts us up there with the, well, the disciples of Jesus!

And perhaps in good Lutheran – in good Minnesotan – modesty,

we don’t want to put ourselves on that pedestal,

as if we were in the same league with the disciples …

but I also think this modesty – be it Lutheran, Minnesotan, or something else –

I think this modesty also becomes a bit convenient,

because who really wants to be a disciple?

Being a disciple is hard. Being a members sounds easier.


In today’s Gospel reading Jesus goes to his hometown.

Oh, I can identify. I’m heading back to my childhood hometown later this month,

as my family and I make a crazy road trip that will include Philadelphia,

and perhaps a stop at my favorite youth hangout,

a great hamburger and milkshake joint called Nifty Fifty’s.

Now, I don’t expect to be rejected when I go into Nifty Fifty’s

and order a Butterfinger milkshake and a cheesesteak with fried onions.

But Jesus was rejected, and upon his homecoming he was immediately questioned

by the crowd in an accusing, suspicious tone.

Who does this guy think he is? Isn’t he the carpenter? So what’s he doing all these things for?

And isn’t he Mary’s son? Aren’t his siblings here?

And so, dear disciples, we see here our Lord returning home … and not having a great time of it.

Lesson number one: disciples of our Lord might not have a place to call “home.”

Who wants that?

Well, seeing that “home” was not all that it was cracked up to be,

Jesus and his disciples move on,

and rather than settle in one place and make a new home,

they decide instead to spread out and go into the homes of others.

Sending out his disciples two by two,

Jesus instructs them to take nothing – except for a walking stick, shirt, sandals …

and the authority that Jesus gives to them,

the authority to cast out unclean spirits.

But the other creature comforts –

extra clothes, money, food, etc.?

Knick knacks that could make a place feel like home?

Nope. Take none of it.

Lesson number two: disciples don’t have lots of stuff.


You’re not going to have a home.

Instead, you’re going to go into the homes of others.

Don’t depend on your own efforts to feed yourself, clothe yourself, care for yourself.

Depend on the hospitality of others.

And those others are strangers.

Lesson number three: disciples need compete strangers,

not just to hear their message, but to survive and, indeed, to do the work of the Gospel.


Then, Jesus tells them that they will be rejected, perhaps by many, of these strangers,

and that the disciples are simply to shake the dust off their feet when that happens,

a non-violent but strong rebuke of those who fail to offer the simple gift of hospitality.

Lesson number four: disciples face rejection.


So, let’s review:

Disciples don’t have a place to call home.

Disciples don’t have lots of stuff.

Disciples depend on complete strangers for just about everything.

Disciples face rejection.

Alright! Woo hoo! This sounds …. awful. Who wants to sign up?

No wonder it took some time for discipleship language

to settle in at my church back in New Jersey.

Discipleship just plain stinks. It is a hard, uncomfortable, disconcerting lifestyle.

We who strive for comfort, for stability, for familiarity would be quite unhappy

with this disciple lifestyle.


Well, let’s keep reading.

The Gospel reading ends today with a report of the disciples’ success –

they proclaimed Jesus’ message, cast out demons, and healed the sick.

Of course, this harkens back to something else that Jesus gave his disciples

authority over unclean spirits, which I only mentioned briefly earlier.

Jesus gives his disciples authority,

and it is by that authority, not by any other power,

that these disciples were able to do so much.

Lesson number five: God gives disciples authority.


God gives disciples authority over unclean spirits,

over all things which would deny people the full extent of what God has called them to be.

And it is by this authority that the disciples went out and did some amazing things.

Heal the sick.

Restore to health, and to the community,

those who were believed to be possessed by demons,

those who were shut out from the community’s life and livelihood.

Disciples have this authority.

Disciples have the authority to heal and to restore.

With this authority,

the authority to set things right in the world,

and with the assurance that we don’t need much else –

we don’t need to worry about money or shelter,

nor do we need to invest in a home since disciples don’t have a true sense of home –

all we need is each other – remember, the disciples went out in pairs,

and later returned to each other –

and with the promise of God guiding us and providing for us …

with all of this being given to the disciples, to us disciples, what is stopping us?


God has given us authority.

God has promised that we will have what we need for the mission.

God has given us each other …

and the strangers yet unknown to us who God calls as partners in this mission.

Yes, God has given us so much, so that we can do what we’re called to do ….

to be workers and proclaimers of God’s transformation in the world.

For God is ushering in his Kingdom here and now.

God is doing this in and through us,

and through other disciples in our community and in our world.

God has given us all we need.

And most importantly, God is with us.

With all that God has given us,

may we go forth, together, to heal, to restore, to proclaim God’s love and grace.


It’s a Matter of Equality

Sermon for the Fifth Sunday after Pentecost
July 1, 2012
2 Corinthians 8:7-15 (Common English Bible)

Grace to you and peace, from the one who is, who was, and who is to come. Amen.

Saint Paul writes:

“It isn’t that we want others to have financial ease and you financial difficulties,

but it’s a matter of equality. At the present moment, your surplus can fill their deficit.”

It’s not that we want you to have financial difficulties, BUT …

There’s always a but.

In today’s second reading, Saint Paul asks the Christians in Corinth

to continue their commitment to financially support the church in Jerusalem,

which is poor and struggling.

The Church at Corinth, located in a bustling city that was a commercial and cultural crossroads,

was better off than their sisters and brothers in Jerusalem,

and so Paul asks those with more to support those with less.

“It isn’t that we want others to have financial ease and you financial difficulties …”

Yes, you can hear it in his voice.

Paul knows that what he is asking could put some pressure on the church and its people,

that the Christians in Corinth have had some of their own problems to deal with,

including a congregation that itself was careless in its divisions between rich and poor

(Just read 1 Corinthians to see how Paul blasts the church there

for having some come to the Thanksgiving Meal and eat and drink

until they are full and drunk, while others leave hungry).

Nonetheless, Paul doesn’t let the challenges that the Corinthians face

get in the way of his asking for and expecting

their continued generosity toward those less fortunate.

Paul knows the Corinthians can do more.

And he knows that the Christians in Jerusalem are in such a dire situation.

After all, Paul says,

“it’s a matter of equality. At the present moment, your surplus can fill their deficit.”

A matter of equality between one’s surplus, one’s abundance,

and another’s deficit, another’s need. Equality.

In our country we have a commitment to individual liberty and personal freedom,

to self-reliance and independence,

a libertarian streak that runs strongly through our American blood,

and which fuels, I believe, so much of the innovation that our country is known for.

Yet, frankly, what Saint Paul writes in today’s reading stands somewhat in contrast

to that independent, self-reliant streak we’re so known for in our country.

For Paul writes not of a self-reliant Jerusalem church that can pull itself up by its bootstraps,

or of a self-reliant Corinthian church that keeps what it has to itself,

but instead he writes of the interconnected relationship between the two.

In other words, Paul writes, “You need each other.”

All who are in Christ are of one body, he writes elsewhere,

and if one part of the body hurts, the whole body suffers.

Any of you who have ever had a bad ankle, or a bad back, know this.

A hurt in one part of the body makes the rest feel pretty miserable.

And so, Paul here is drawing attention to the fact that

there is a part of the body, over in Jerusalem, that is suffering right now.

The present surplus of the Corinthians, he writes, can alleviate the present deficit of others.

The other day I was talking with a homeless woman,

and she asked why God let all this happen to her – losing her job,

losing her house, medical problems, and so forth.

I responded simply that God is not doing this to her,

but like Christ on the cross, God is suffering alongside of her,

and that it is human sin that has created a situation in which she finds herself.

Because, let’s be honest friends, there is plenty of abundance in this world right now,

here, there, and down the street,

there’s abundance that can alleviate the needs of others.

If the people of Saint Paul, the people of Ramsey County, of Minnesota, of this country,

if we all wanted more homeless shelter beds,

or if we wanted more affordable housing, we could do it.

We found half a billion dollars for a 65,000 seat football stadium,

but we can’t find money for additional homeless shelter beds?

It’s because we don’t want to.

In 2005, former Senators Bob Dole and George McGovern wrote a book together called,

Ending Hunger Now: A Challenge to Persons of Faith.

In this book these two former Senators – a conservative Republican and a liberal Democrat –

said that we don’t have a food shortage in the world.

We don’t have a food problem at all. Instead, what we have is a distribution problem.

Yet the truth is, we don’t have a distribution problem, either.

You can purchase a Coca-Cola in nearly every corner of the world.

We’ve got distribution down just fine.

So what we really have is a problem of the will. We just don’t want to do it.

Because making sure that food was available for all people in the world

might make certain costs rise, might cut into the profits of some merchants

or into the tariff-protected markets of some industry groups,

and might make things more difficult for those of us who live in relative abundance.

“It isn’t that we want others to have financial ease and you financial difficulties,” Paul writes,

“but … but it’s a matter of equality..”

We have the resources in the wealthiest darn country in the world.

We have the abundance. We have the surplus.

But do we have the will to seek, to create, some sort of greater equality?

Paul the Apostle calls us, in faith, to find the will to seek such an equality.


Shifting from Paul the Apostle to Paul the Pastor, for a moment,

let me say this: few people in my life have I known

who are as committed to the needs of others,

who are as committed to this sense of quality, as is Pastor Paul Hesterberg.

In my first year here at Grace, I have seen him work tirelessly with and for those who have so little.

From making sure that we have food and gas cards to distribute,

to driving people to doctor’s appointments and court hearings,

to sharing articles with me and with others about matters of concern

for the poor and hungry, to helping folks out in many different ways,

Pastor Paul is committed to this equality about which Saint Paul writes,

to sharing some of his own abundance with those in need.

Pastor Paul has been a role model for us, a caregiver,

a living commitment to those things to which our Lord himself is committed –

feeding the hungry, healing the sick, raising up the lowly, caring for the lonely.

His commitment is one that leaves a legacy among us,

a legacy that we will do well to carry on through existing efforts of care –

such as the food collection for Merrick Food Shelf

that the Social Ministry Committee is coordinating –

and even the creation of new ministries of care and love and outreach

that will help us live into Saint Paul’s calling for us to work for a greater equality

between our abundance and our neighbor’s need.


Dear friends, as we celebrate Independence Day this week,

let us not revel in our own individual liberty,

for soldiers didn’t die at Lexington and Concord,

at Brandywine or Germantown, or in the cold winter at Valley Forge,

they didn’t die for individual liberty …

but they died for a nation, for a people to live in freedom, together.

They died to create “a more perfect union.”

Freedom is not just personal or political,

but rightfully – and faithfully – understood,

freedom includes not just freedom from overseas royal tyrants,

but freedom from want, freedom from suffering, freedom from abject poverty,

and freedom for the chance to pursue life, liberty, and happiness.

Together we live into this freedom. Together we share in the abundance of this land and,

as Christians, together we live into the freedom we have in Christ Jesus,

free to give of ourselves as Christ himself gave,

free to give out of what we have, to provide for the needs of our sisters and brothers,

so that there might be greater equality, and greater freedom, for all.


Loving our enemies – and our youth – for the sake of the Gospel

Lectionary 7 (Seventh Sunday after Epiphany)
Leviticus 19:1-2, 9-18; Matthew 5:38-48
Sunday, February 20, 2011

Lectionary 7 Year A 2011

Grace to you and peace, from the one who is, who was, and who is to come.  Amen.

Last week’s Confirmation Class began with a thud.  I told the class,
“Alright, open up your Bibles to the book of Ruth. It might be hard to find –
    it’s a small book, buried in the Old Testament somewhere.
    Use the table of contents if you like.”
“Pastor Chris,” one of them said, “We know where it is. We read from Ruth last week.”
Oh, crud, I thought to myself.
I had prepared the wrong lesson, the one that Randy Correll,
    one of our wonderful Confirmation Ministry teachers, had taught the week before.
So, while my brain was spinning about what to do,
    I showed the class a video on YouTube of a Doritos commercial from the Super Bowl,
    something I had planned to do anyway. 
The commercial dealt with Doritos, yes, but also with resurrection,
    and I thought it would be a good way to start our class.

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It ain’t about us

Lectionary 3 (Third Sunday after Epiphany)
Isaiah 9:1-4; Psalm 27:1, 4-9; Matthew 4:12-23
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Sermon manuscript as PDF: Download Lectionary 3 – Year A 2011

Lectionary 3 – Year A 2011

Grace to you and peace, from the one who is, who was, and who is to come.  Amen.

Why did they do it?
Why did they drop everything and follow Jesus?
    And more than why … how?
In today’s Gospel, we hear the story of Jesus calling the first four of his disciples,
    Simon and Andrew, James and John.
These guys drop their nets, leave their boats and even their loved ones,
    and follow Jesus.
I’ll be honest … on the surface this can seem like a scene out of a bad zombie movie,
    or like something out of an old Gilligan’s Island or I Dream of Jeannie episode,
    in which someone watching a pocket watch swing
        back and forth, in front of their eyes
    falls into a trance and does whatever the holder of the pocket watch says.

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Now is the Time

Lectionary 33 (25th Sunday after Pentecost), Year C
2 Thessalonians 3:6-13; Luke 21:5-19
Sunday, November 14, 2010

Grace to you and peace, from the one who is, who was, and who is to come.  Amen.

Growing up with the last name of Duckworth,
    and having all sort of nicknames based on the root “Duck” –
    Ducky, Duckman, Duckhead, Duckface, Ducker, Duckaramma, Ducker Doodles –
    I take special interest in all things Duck.
And so at the end of certain political cycles my Duck feathers get ruffled, so to speak,
    as we hear about the fate of “lame duck” politicians.   
There is nothing “lame” about ducks, that you very much.

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Certain Promise, Certain Hope for Uncertain Times

Lectionary 29 (21st Sunday after Pentecost), Year C
2 Timothy 3:14:-4:5
Sunday, October 17, 2010

Grace to you and peace, from the one who is, who was, and who is to come.  Amen.

In our second reading today we read excerpts of a letter from Paul
    to the younger Timothy,
    a co-worker with Paul in proclaiming the Gospel and building the church
    in the decades following the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus Christ.
It was a scary time for the early church.
We can easily romanticize the early church,
    view it as some sort of frontier religion with Paul establishing Christian outposts
    in a pagan world, outposts that would later thrive as centers of a vital, new religion.
But the reality was much more grim.

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Walking the Pathway of Faith, Looking for What God Will Do

Lectionary 27 (19th Sunday after Pentecost), Year C
Psalm 37:1-9; Luke 17:5-10

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Grace to you and peace, from the one who is, who was, and who is to come.  Amen.

“Increase our faith!” the apostles begged Jesus.
Increase our faith.
How many times have we, in our lives, wanted stronger faith?
Faith to believe in God’s promises.
Faith in God to lead us into the right choices.
Faith in God to rescue us when we don’t make the right choices.
Faith in God to step off the pages of this Bible,
    and to leap out from the poetic words and lyrical tunes of 18th century hymns,
    faith in God to turn a ritual gesture of greeting –
    the peace of the Lord be with you –
    into a real, flesh and blood, bear hug of an embrace.
How many times have we wanted stronger faith, more faith … any faith at all?

I know I have.

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Being Shrewd Like the World for the Sake of the Gospel

Lectionary 25 (17th Sunday after Pentecost)
Luke 16:1-13
Sunday, September 19, 2010

Grace to you and peace, from the one who is, who was, and who is to come.  Amen.

This past Wednesday evening Derek Jeter,
    the New York Yankees shortstop who is respected even by fans like me,
        who otherwise harbor an unnatural and irrational dislike for the Yankees,
    stood at home plate in Tampa Bay’s Tropicana Field, bat in hand,
        waiting for the opposing pitcher to hurl the ball.
The pitch came inside, and Jeter jumped to get out of the way.
But apparently he didn’t get out of the way fast enough.
As the ball bounced gently toward the pitcher’s mound,
    Jeter jumped up and down at home plate,
    grabbing his arm and wincing in pain.
The team trainer came out to inspect his arm,
    and the umpires huddled.
Within a few moments, Jeter was awarded first base,
    the umpires ruling that he was hit by the pitch.
But the only problem is this: he wasn’t actually hit by the pitch.

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Sensitivity and Exaggeration in “Ground Zero Mosque” and Luke 13:10-17

Lectionary 21 (13th Sunday after Pentecost)
Isaiah 58:9b-14; Luke 13:10-17
Sunday, August 22, 2010

Grace to you and peace, from the one who is, who was, and who is to come.  Amen.

I hate to start off so negative.
But I fear for what some might be saying today about this Gospel text,
    in adult forums and pulpits around this country.
Today’s Gospel reading is a story of Jesus healing a woman in a synagogue on the Sabbath.
    As you just heard, after healing the woman,
    Jesus is confronted by the synagogue leader,
        who protests that Jesus performed a work of healing on the day of rest.
And so, I fear for what will be said today about that synagogue leader,
    that he will unfairly be pilloried as an enemy of Christ,
    a denier of grace more interested in divine law than divine love.
But let’s not walk that plank.

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God with us, in darkness and death

Lectionary 18 (10th Sunday after Pentecost)
Ecclesiastes 1:2, 12-14; 2:18-23; Psalm 49:1-12; Colossians 3:1-11; Luke 12:13-21
Sunday, August 1, 2010

Grace to you and peace, from the one who is, who was, and who is to come.  Amen.

Let me tell you …. Pastor Scott [the Senior Pastor at my church] sure knows how to pick his Sundays off!
    These readings today … wow.
In our first reading we hear from Ecclesiastes,
    the only time in the church’s three-year calendar of readings
    that we read from this book.
And perhaps this is why –
    the author of Ecclesiastes considers pretty much everything
    to be an absurd, futile vanity, a “chasing after the wind.”
    And in an adjacent verse omitted from today’s reading,
        the writer admits that he “hated life” (vs. 17).
As if to confirm this pessimism, we read in vs. 13 that
    “It is an unhappy business that God has given to human beings to be busy with.”
The Gospel for today is equally pessimistic.
Jesus tells a parable about a rich man whose land produced an abundant crop.
Not sure what to do with all his bounty,
    the man decides to tear down his small barn and build a larger barn,
    so that he can store his crops and ease into retirement,
        a plan not unlike the 401(K) plans many of us hold …
But God calls such a man “a fool.”

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