There are two types of travelers. There are those that travel light; and, there are those who pack for self-preservation.

Do you take a small bag with the basic essentials and figure you’ll pick stuff up as you go?

Or do you cram everything you can into every corner of an extra-large expandable bag, making sure that whatever comes your way on your trip, you are prepared?

Parents traveling with small children embody both extremes. They bring enough “kid gear,” emergency medicines, food and drink boxes, stuffed animals, and beloved story-books to keep the children satisfied for weeks. But they’re lucky if they get a toothbrush and a change of socks for themselves.

It is the Boy Scouts’ motto of “Be Prepared” vs. the new airline mantra of “you pay for every pound.” Once you are beyond the “traveling with small children” phase of your life, it is tempting to look at all the “stuff” parents bring along as just so much junk. But, ironically, it is those protective parents who might best embody the supplications of Jesus and the spartan traveling supplies of Jesus’ disciples. No, the twelve apostles did not bring “Dora, the Explorer” downloads. No, there were no fruit snacks and water bottles. But . . . Yes, like parents, they did set out to travel without focusing on their own needs and provisions.

In today’s text we learn how the disciples, in accordance with Jesus’ own directives, took basically nothing as a “back-up” for themselves. No money. No extra food. No extra clothing. No safe way out. The disciples went on their first missionary journey without concern for self-preservation, without “packing” for themselves. What they “packed” was for others. What they took with them was for those to whom they were going, to those they were telling the Jesus story and offering the healings, in body and spirit, that Jesus’ power offered.

If you “talk the talk” you must “walk the walk.” When Jesus sent his disciples out on their first mission journey he made sure they talked and walked according to divine purpose and providence. They spoke with the power and authority Jesus personally invested in each one of them. The power that had stilled the waters of a raging sea, the power that had driven out devils and raised the dead, the power that healed the sick and given sight to the blind . . . that same power was at their disposal.

But their walk was not to be a haughty parade of power or a promenade of importance. The disciples were ordered to walk a path of humility, obedience, and dedication.

By limiting their supplies to spartan levels, Jesus made his disciples dependant on others, not to mention dependent on God’s grace and provenance. On that first mission Jesus’ disciples had no outside assurance or insurance that guaranteed their welfare and support. The only credit reference they had in their belt was the power and authority of Jesus himself, the same power Jesus released in the graveyard, on the stormy sea, and at a deathbed. The disciples went out on their inaugural mission with Jesus’ blessing, but without fully knowing what that blessing meant. They found themselves in impossible circumstances, and yet able to pull off miraculous healings and exorcisms. It was the power of the divine, working in, with and through those still learning disciples, that made those teaching and healing moments possible.

Jesus sent his twelve disciples out on their first mission with specific directives about how what to bring. But he did not buy them a bus ticket. Like everyone in first century, the first mission of the twelve was accomplished on foot. They walked. They walked from village to village. They meandered on foot across farmland and city streets. And like all first century travelers, the first thing the people they were visiting saw was how they walked up to them.

Did any of us ever grow up without one or more parent saying “watch your step?” In the 21st century we have to educate people on how they can “walk for exercise.” We have machines in our living rooms that let us “walk” for miles without going anywhere. And we can program in any view we want. “Walking” is no longer a way to reach a new place. Walking is now only a short-term destination for our own agenda. We walk from our house to our car. We walk from our car to our workplace. We walk into the market, or into the restaurant to get what we need for our lives.

Walking used to identify who you were and what you were about. Like your height, your hair, or your house, your personal walk, the “gait” that you engendered identified who and what you were. Walking was an identity marker. Families were known for a certain walk, and they passed on that walk from generation to generation. A family’s walk was as much a distinguishing feature of a clan as a family nose. (At least so argues Timothy M. O’Sullivan in his pathbreaking new book Walking in Roman Culture [Cambridge University Press, 2012]).

In Jesus’ day pedestrians ruled. Everyone walked, and everyone walked according to their personal identity. For example, slaves ran. If they were “out and about” slaves were being sent on a service and successfully completing that task was a matter of utmost urgency. Get it done swiftly and correctly.

The Roman elite was under no such time constraints. They strolled. The Roman military was so confident and in control that their generals issued orders and edicts as they walked along the conquered lands of their empire. They even had meetings as they walked and talked.

The “barbarians” thought the Romans and Greek barbarians for walking so much. They were either sitting or reclining in a state of total repose, or they were fighting to the death and in a state of total exertion. It was one extreme or another.

The foremost rabbinical philosopher in Jewish history was Maimonides. Maimonides taught that Hebrew scholars should affect a certain “gait.” An observant person of faith should not swagger, or slouch, or stumble. A Hebrew scholar should walk sure-footedly, yet keep their head slightly tilted down, as though in prayer. They should walk not too slow nor too fast, but keep the practiced pace of prayer. In other words, a Jewish person of faith should look like a prayer in motion.

Just as families and tribes were known for their “walk,” so Jesus introduced his new family, his twelve disciples to a new walk. It was a pace not predetermined by parentage or personal status. Jesus’ family and friends called him crazy and dismissed all of his words and miracles as inconsequential and incomprehensible. But the pathway Jesus prescribed ignored the judgments of others and instead embraced the power and authority of God over all.

The Boy Scouts motto says: “Be Prepared.” Jesus’ directive to his disciples whether the first twelve in the first century or all of us in the 21st century is “Be Committed.” Be committed to Christ and trust in God. Jesus himself became the “Halachah,” the full body of conduct, beliefs and practices which may be best translated not as “The Law” but “The Way To Go” or “The Way To Walk In The World.” In fact, the “Halachah” in the plural means literally “gait” or “path.” So here is the distillation of the “Halachah,” which is found in following Jesus into the world:

Dare to go out without two tunics.
Dare to take risks for God without cushy 401k’s.
Dare to offer the word and the work (with your hands) of Christ without a down payment.
Dare to be a Jesus.

Walk the talk Christ directed for his disciples. No “golden parachutes.” Just some sandals and a staff — a way to get there and something to lean on.

We might not be very pedestrian anymore. But the way we walk still reveals a lot about us. There is the athlete’s bounce, the runway model’s saunter, the hip-hop glide, and the CEO stride. In some ways we’re no different from the ancients. Every step we take reveals who we are and who’s in charge of our lives.

Watch Your Step. People are watching every move you make.

Walk like a disciple.
Walk into people’s story and connect the Jesus story with their story.
Walk without pretension.
Walk without fear of failure or rejection.
Walk with the staff of humble confidence.
Walk with the humility of “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.”
Walk with the confidence of “Faith is the victory, Faith is the victory, Faith is the victory that overcomes the world.”
Walk with the calm conviction that tomorrow is a done-deal because the power of the living God is guiding your gait.

Most importantly, as Maimonides reminds us, walk as a prayer in motion.

We talk about “The Lord’s Prayer,” when we really should call it “The Disciple’s Prayer.” The “Our Father” is a prayer Jesus gave to us. Just as a rabbi gave his disciples a certain walk, he gave them a certain prayer. The real “Lord’s Prayer” is found in John 17, when Jesus prayed to his Father the greatest prayer every prayed on earth. But we can honestly call it still “The Lord’s Prayer” if the point is not to “say” this prayer but “become” this prayer. When we live our lives so that we become the Lord’s prayer when everything we do, our eating, our sleeping, our playing, our walking becomes a prayer-offering to God, then our walk and our talk, our motion and our emotion, have become one. And we become “The Lord’s Prayer.”

Let’s all stand, bow our heads, and say together this prayer with a re-dedication to doing more than saying “The Lord’s Prayer,” but becoming “The Lord’s Prayer.”

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COMMENTARY

After a series of increasingly dramatic miracles that demonstrate Jesus’ power and authority over the forces of evil, the forces of nature, and even the forces of death itself, Mark’s text now abruptly changes pace and perspective. Having traveled back and forth across the Sea of Galilee a couple of times, Jesus and his disciples leave the shoreline scene and undertake a significant side trip to Nazareth, some twenty-five miles to the south. The journey might have been quite a jaunt, but the destination was far from distinguished. Nazareth was a small, obscure, unimportant village with a population of a few hundred, mostly related residents. Outside of the New Testament references to it as Jesus’ “hometown,” the Nazareth community has no references in any religious or historical writings through the first century. In short, Jesus’ hometown was a hick town, a podunk place, one little nowhere burg.

The incident at Nazareth described by Mark is found in Luke (4:16-30) and Matthew (13:53-58). While told differently by each gospel writer, in each account Jesus is rejected by his hometown and as a result his ability to work effectively among the people is curtailed and compromised. The record of such an unflattering portrait of Jesus’ kin and community supports the authenticity of this moment.

As was the right of any properly raised Jewish male, Jesus steps up to teach in his hometown synagogue on the Sabbath. In the first century, outside of the temple priests, there was no official “ordained” class of religious leaders. But while Jesus was an acceptable expositor, the teachings and tone of the message he presented were evidently so authoritative and sweeping that the local audience took exception. In the First Testament “wisdom” is joined with authority and divine power (Daniel 2:20; Isaiah 10:13; Jeremiah 10:13, 16). The stunned local crowd recognizes the sound of both those in Jesus’ teaching.

But instead of being awed, they find it awful. The “deeds of power” don’t interest them; only the commonplace “identity of the “do-er.” Commentators harangue over the possible insinuations from Jesus’ legitimacy (because he is referred as the “Son of Mary” rather than the more customary and acceptable patriarchal idenity as “Son of Joseph”), and on the actual familiar status of all Jesus’ siblings who are listed (are they step-brothers and sisters, cousins or the natural children of Mary and Joseph?). But the crowd’s opinion is clear. Jesus’ authoritative wisdom-laced teaching is rejected because of his known local roots and because of his training and trade as a “tekton” a craftsman who works with his hands, not as a scribe or scholar.

Jesus’ homegrown status coupled with his authoritative preaching curdle the company before him they “took offense” (“eskandalizonto”) and were “scandalized” by his words and witness. The aphorism Jesus cites in response to their rejection echoes those found in other Hellenistic literature of the time (although not specifically tied to a prophet). For gospel readers this “prophetic” rejection would recall the “suffering servant” of Isaiah 53:3. It is startling to read that Jesus, who had so recently exorcised demons, stilled storms, healed the dying and even raised one from death to life, finds his power curtailed by this wall of unbelief. Jesus’ own relatives and neighbors were closed off in mind and spirit to the power of God that was present in their native son. The people of Nazareth kept that power from being made manifest among them. Their “unbelief” (“apistia”) shocks (“ethadmazen”) Jesus. But here in Mark it also opens the door for spreading the word farther and faster.

In Mark Jesus’ “failure” at Nazareth is immediately overturned by the implementation of the mission of the Twelve. The power rejected by his family and neighbors in Nazareth is now funneled out into the world through the work of Jesus’ chosen and specially commissioned disciples. While many scholars and rabbis had disciples to whom they offered special instruction, they did not send those disciples out to teach and do works in their name and with their authority. But that is exactly what Jesus does. Jesus sends (“apostellein”) his chosen twelve on a mission, a mission both established by Jesus’ power and dedicated to spreading that power as his disciples travel and tell his story.

As with Jesus’ own ministry, teaching is linked with power. Jesus bestows his own authority over unclean spirits upon these twelve disciples. Sending the disciples out “two-by-two” reflects the Jewish tradition for legal “witnessing,” as spelled out in Deuteronomy 19:15 where two or three witnesses are required for any testimony.

Significantly, Jesus’ instructions are scant and the provisions he allows his disciples are even scantier. As the disciples travel on “The Way” (“hodos”) or on their journey, they are given specific restrictions. Jesus gives more details about what his missionary messengers are not to take than what they are to take. They are allowed a staff — a recognized symbol of power and authority (think Moses, Aaron and Elisha) but are directed not to take “bread,” a beggars “bag” or extra money in their belts. They are to travel so “light” that only sandals and one tunic, nothing extra, nothing “spare,” is to weigh them down.

What Jesus allows his disciples to travel with is the same as what God instructs the Israelites to take with them when they fled Egypt after Passover (Exodus 12:11). The disciples focus is to be on carrying out the mission of Jesus and trusting in the power of God that fuels this calling.

Jesus also instructs his disciples not to play “favorites.” Once they enter a village they are to stay put in the first home that welcomes them. No “upgrades.” No switching seats. No matter how successful or disastrous the outcome of their visit, they are to stay put in one place. Perhaps most startling is that Jesus acknowledges to his mission team that despite the fact that they will be teaching and healing under the auspices of his power and authority, they will have failures. They will encounter those who “refuse to hear” (v.11). And with this in mind he gives them a sacrament of failure.

When they come face-to-face with failure, Jesus’ instructions are startling. By telling his disciples to “shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them,” Jesus is essentially declaring those places as “unclean.” Jews returning to “Eretz [Land of] Israel” after visiting in pagan lands were instructed to shake the dust off their feet before stepping foot into the Holy Land. The disciples, then, would in effect be denouncing Jewish villages in Israel as “unclean” if they refused and rejected the mission and message of his authorized disciples.