Once again, the Gospel seems to be encouraging us to imagine that there are only two kinds of people in the world. I should warn you, that I am trying to lull you into a false sense of security by repeating a theme of a recent sermon, because I am going to try to play a trick on you. Of course, you may already know how this sermon goes. You may have heard it before. But still, if you look at the Gospel reading from St. Luke assigned for today, it would be easy to conclude that Jesus wants us to think that there are only two kinds of people in the world. And what a week to have to confront that possibility in church! The times seem custom-made to revisit the point that there might be only two kinds of people in the world, do they not?
Consider the Gospel. The missionary instructions that Jesus gives to the seventy are riddled with binary thinking: There’s a harvest to be gathered, but the laborers are few. So there are laborers and there are slackers, I guess: two kinds of people. Then there are lambs and there are wolves. Then there are people on whom peace will rest, and those in whom peace will find no home. Two kinds of people can be found in two kinds of towns: the towns where Jesus’ followers are welcomed, and the towns where they are not.
Could it be any clearer that Jesus wants us to conclude that there really are only two kinds of people? “See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves.” And don’t we all know who the wolves are? We have 24-hour news channels whose primary purpose seems to be to teach viewers who the wolves are to their lambs.
Jesus might appear to buy-in to this kind of thinking, since the language he uses does readily conform to it. “Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you, cure the sick, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’ But whenever you enter a town and they do not welcome you, go out into its streets and say, ‘Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet, we wipe off in protest against you.’ … I tell you, on that day it will be more tolerable for Sodom than for that town.”
There are only two kinds people in this world. Those for whom the kingdom of God has come near, and those for whom the fate of Sodom awaits. And you remember what happened to the people of Sodom, do you not? Things did not go well for them.
There are only two kinds of people in the world. Lambs and wolves. Pro-life or pro-choice. Pro-guns or pro-gun-control. Religious fanatics or sensible people who have outgrown religion. And you know who you are; and you know who they are; so, when you encounter them, shake the dust off your feet as a testimony against them. This advice to shake the dust off your feet in protest against another is included in all three of the synoptic Gospels. It’s a thing.
Maybe it’s because our nation was born in rebellion that we find this sort of thing so appealing, and we can’t help but divide the world into two kinds of people. We shook the dust of Great Britain off our feet with conviction and violence, did we not? We showed them that there are two kinds of people in the world. And we are not the kind of people who would be ruled (and taxed) by a distant monarch!
I think people in America are wondering if it’s time to do some more dust-shaking. I’m looking at you Texas. And you are surely looking at us in the City of Brotherly Love. Two kinds of people. Maybe when we stand up at the peace, we should practice shaking our feet. Do it vigorously. And lean on your neighbor if you need to. You’re going to want to make sure your balance is steady. We don’t want to lose anyone when we start shaking the dust off our feet. Because we have the kingdom of God to proclaim to those who welcome us! But to those who reject us, well… on that day it will be more tolerable for Sodom.
But I told you that I was going to try to play a trick on you.
The problem with this approach, with looking at, say, Texas this way… the problem with declaring the kingdom of God, on the one hand, and pronouncing the fate of Sodom, on the other is this… that it’s not quite what Jesus taught. For, when Jesus said to say this, “Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet, we wipe off in protest against you,” he went on to include this clarification, “Yet know this: the kingdom of God has come near.” Yes, he did threaten that it would be more tolerable for Sodom, destroyed by fire and brimstone, than for those who rejected the promises of the kingdom. But still, he said, right there - in the middle of the town where the proclamation of his Name had been rejected, in the midst of all the foot-shaking, and the cloud of dust it kicked up - still, there: the kingdom of God has come near - just as it has for those who were welcoming.
And here’s what happened when the seventy returned: they brought back zero reports of rejection. They told no stories of shaking the dust off their feet. And they saw no cities reduced to rubble by fire and brimstone. All they saw were signs that what Jesus had told them to say to everyone - to everyone - was true: that the kingdom of God had come near. They reported back that so powerful was the mere proximity of the kingdom of God that the very demons submitted to the power of Jesus’ Name! And while they were taking on demons, what Jesus saw was this: Satan fell from heaven like a flash of lightning!
If the fate of Sodom was a threat, it was an empty one. For, the word of the kingdom of God brings not damnation, but salvation, as the powers of darkness fall even from their perch near God’s own dwelling, where they seek to ruin everything! But the powers of darkness do not prevail! They cannot prevail so close to the kingdom of God!
So, on second thought, let’s not rehearse our foot-shaking, when we should be practicing our peace-sharing, since sharing peace seldom reinforces the idea that there are only two kinds of people in the world. Jesus played a trick on his disciples. He played-in to the tendency that they share with us to suspect that there are only two kinds of people in the world - those who are with us, and those who are against us. But what he actually taught them was that the kingdom of God is to be proclaimed to everyone, and that that kingdom is near at hand, even to those who seem to reject it, and even to those who we are inclined to reject Jesus.
So, let us also not fall for the trick that leads us to believe that the kingdom of God is meant for some people, but not for others. No, rather, the kingdom of God has come near to one and all; the kingdom of God is meant for one and all; and the kingdom of God has room for one and for all. It is not our neighbors who stand in opposition to the kingdom of God, it is the prince of darkness. But he has already fallen from heaven!
On this Fourth of July weekend, some Americans are preoccupied with the idea that in order for Christ to make his home in our lives and in our hearts, we must claim this land for him like conquistador-disciples. That idea comes with the suspicion that there will be a lot of dust to shake off of a lot of feet, wherever the Gospel is not welcomed whole-heartedly, since it is shaped by the suspicion that there are only two kinds of people in the world. But Jesus didn’t call his disciples to establish a Christian nation; he sent them out like lambs into the midst of wolves to proclaim the nearness of the kingdom of God, even in places where the word was not welcomed or embraced. And not one of them came back reporting that they had shaken any dust at all off of their feet. It takes a lamb to do work like that, work that wolves can never accomplish: proclaiming Good News gracefully, even where it is not welcomed, and refusing to let that Good News morph into Bad News by delivering it with all the gentleness of a wolf.
Today, too, Jesus will send us out like lambs into the midst of wolves. And the trick for us will be not to allow ourselves to become sheep who put on wolves’ clothing, sharpening our hooves and our teeth, so that there’s nothing of us left that resembles a lamb anymore.
Remember, if there are only two kinds of people in the world its’s these: good people, and good people in pain. And the kingdom of God has come near to us all.
Preached by Fr. Sean Mullen
3 July 2022
Saint Mark’s, Locust Street, Philadelphia
