Oh the beauty of the limited mission

“Framing” our weekly devotions for next week on Mark 6:1-13 (which you probably want to read before continuing) and what we often call the “limited commission,” I was left with some extra thoughts bouncing around my head that I simply didn’t have enough room to explore on paper. And since I don’t get to preach on it, this blog of a tablet will have to give me the space…

Limited.

The very thing we call this commission is the first thing that strikes me. This was a limited mission. The most detailed report of Jesus’ instructions to the twelve as he sent them out on this “limited” mission (they only went to the "lost sheep of the house of Israel") definitely confirms the label "limited.” Needed items for this mission? Uh, nothing. In fact, you need to lose a few things. Yes, the Lord would tell me to keep my book bag at home. No bread (food, that is; that’s right, no snacks or granola bars or even dinner coupons). No bag (leave the briefcase and backpack at home, thank you). No cash (paper or plastic). And no extra clothes. Although Mark does say you can take your walking stick (Matthew and Luke disagree – no stick for you!).

Peterson in the Message catches the spirit of all this quite well (except for any of you Massage pooh-poohers out there, God love you) in his rendition of Jesus’ instructions in Matthew 10:

"Don't think you have to put on a fund-raising campaign before you start. You don't need a lot of equipment. You are the equipment, and all you need to keep that going is three meals a day. Travel light.”

Yes this is indeed a limited mission.

I’ve often wondered why we have these detailed instructions left more or less for us three times in the New Testament if they really only applied to the Twelve on this occasion. Perhaps it’s just so we can be inspired by their faith...as we then turn around and do the opposite with all of our many bags, our cash reserve, our hotel reservations and car rentals in advance (after all, we must be practical! I mean, no bag, no cash, no clothes, and no stick [so say Matt and Luke]? Really now!). One thing’s for sure, don’t put Jesus in charge of our mission’s programs. I so would not have been a good disciple in that group...

But more seriously, perhaps these instructions were preserved for us very simply because, for the most part, disciples of Jesus throughout the ages would primarily be making these kinds of “mission trips.” The limited ones. Most would not be globe-trotting like the twelve eventually did. Most would be doing what the twelve did this time around – or even less. The limited commission of ministering in your own backyard – or better, your front yard, better still your living room, and then your neighborhood, your school, your workplace. And perhaps what the twelve did for their limited commission is what we need to do for ours.

Don’t load up, read up, and certainly don’t try to measure up. You don’t need lots of equipment. You are the equipment. So turn around, and behold your limited commission in that next face you meet.

It’s just that this is all so, so, well, limited. So counterculture to we sophiscated, driven Americans. There’s little that we won’t turn into a spectacle; if it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing BIG. And here’s Jesus talking about a cup of cold water given in his name. The American Jesus would talk about providing water for the entire population of Palestine. Now that would be ministry. And indeed it would be. It’s just that, let’s be real here, for the most part through all of history, that’s the sort of massive thing that a king would do (okay, most kings take the water, but let’s not quibble here); peasants can give the cup of water in their hand. It’s limited. But it’s seen. It’s valued. And if all the peasants with a cup of water in their hands shared it, soon all the population of the land would be refreshed, wouldn’t it? Behold the power of operating well within our holy limitations. A growing mass of peasants so operating, empowered by the King…imagine the possibilities!

One of the suggestions I came across in my reading this morning paralleled this commission and its stripping them of all their stuff to what was required before entering the temple grounds. They didn’t just leave their weapons at the door of the temple, they left all their stuff before entering the holy precincts. I hadn’t heard that before, but I love the picture. The twelve drop all their stuff and empty their pockets before hitting the road just like they were entering the Holy Temple. The dusty streets of Palestine all become holy ground. No wonder even the demons were subject to them! What might God accomplish through us in our own streets if we walked around seeing that? With that air of faith and vision and expectation surrounding us… Sure we’d still have plenty of dust to wipe off our feet with a shrug. That’s the lesson of Jesus’ trip to Nazareth. But imagine the possibilities!

And I love that on this limited commission Jesus put no limits on what they could do kingdom-wise (heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out demons); it pretty much runs the whole gamut, doesn’t it? But he did limit the words. He told them to say, “The kingdom of heaven is at hand.” Seven words in English. A mere five words in the Greek. Three words in Hebrew (Qarbah malkut shemayim!). Funny how my evangelical nature tends to reverse this; how I tend to limit the kingdom activities (or dismiss them altogether – whether miraculous because of my Cessationist inclinations, or whether benevolent because of my “that’s just social gospel antics taking care of the body but not the soul” routine) and then I multiply the words beyond limit. And so we talk, talk, talk (he wrote in his blog, blog, blog) to and at the world around us, and then have so very precious little time and energy for the doing.

Of course this involves balance. We bear the King’s mercy and his message. It’s both/and not either/or. It’s just perhaps, just maybe we should take to heart these detailed instructions to the twelve before we head out our door and try this balance on for size: Do, do, do, do, do and (wait for it) speak (three words will do). The message accompanies the mercy, mercy, mercy, mercy of Jesus, not vice versa; not a wee deed thrown in on occasion to try to make the message credible or edible (which rather than mercy borders on manipulation and shtick; remember, this is a challenge to engage in the limited commission, and Matthew and Luke tell us to leave our shtick behind). Let your deeds (mitzvot – keeping of the commands aka acts of lovingkindness) be many and your words few. Not a bad balance – it was His idea, after all. Perhaps I should actually try it.

Okay, one last thing in this joyful little rant of mine. Mark includes one detail unique to his account of their limited mission. He says “they anointed with oil many that were sick and they were healed.” The disciples probably didn’t pack lots of oil, but most households had it; in conformity with the rest of this stripped down and simple mission, they probably just used whatever was at hand wherever they happened to be. According to one source I read today, among its other properties and uses, olive oil was seen as something of a panacea, an all purpose medication for anyone with any malady. Maybe it would be like taking an aspirin in our culture. But God took that everyday item existing in everyone’s home and made it sacramental – made it kingdomish. The common and ordinary becomes a holy instrument in the hands of newbie disciples.

And that’s the limited commission…and the great commission too, for that matter. And whether small or great, how well, how freely, how kingdomly am I operating within my own holy limitations?