A Sermon for the Fourth Sunday after Pentecost
The Rev. Patricia Gillespie

Exodus 19:2-8a
Romans 5:6-11
Matthew 9:35-10:8(9-15)
Psalm 100

Halfway through the sixth grade, our English teacher Mrs. White announced that we were going to have a course on "Creative Writing."

I was SO excited. Here was our first assignment. (Give everyone a penny.) She gave each of us a penny. And told us that we were to write a description of the penny. We even had several days to do it.

So, how would you describe your penny? (People offer words or other descriptions.) Good ... Sounds like you'd all get A's.

That first day I carefully tucked my penny into my pocket. That afternoon I took it to the beach with me and sat just looking at it for a long, long time. Then the penny and I went home and began to write. And we wrote and we wrote. This was SO exciting. I could hardly wait to hear what Mrs. White thought of it.

When we got our papers back, instead of the usual A at the top of the paper, mine said, "Please see me after class."

I wasn't certain if I'd done exceptionally well or if I was in really big trouble. From my friends, I knew that message usually meant trouble. But I was just sure that what I'd written was really good.

So I stood before the big desk, waiting. She said what I'd written was "interesting." But that I hadn't really done the assignment. I started to protest, but remembered my manners. She explained that I was supposed to have written "expository prose." I hadn't a clue what that meant, but I didn't want her to be disappointed in me again, so I nodded wisely and said, "Yes, Ma'am. May I write it again?" I went home and looked up the words in the dictionary. Wrote a really boring essay. And got the expected A.

I took what I had written the first time and hid it under the books on the bottom of my bookshelf. That first exciting time, instead of writing expository prose, I'd written a monologue. I had written in the first person, giving voice to the penny itself. I wrote about how it felt to be in someone's pocket, or to hide bottom of a huge purse while a hand digs around looking for me; I wrote about the clanging, crowded insides of cash registers, and about the joy of being held in a sticky, grubby hand at a candy store.

But what I'd done that first time had been words unheard and efforts unwelcomed. "If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, shake off the dust from your feet as you leave that house or town."

I carried the dust from that ‘wrong' creative writing assignment for years. I learned a lot from Mrs. White about writing well. I learned very little about creativity. Or I learned to respond to assignments without creativity.

In today's gospel, Jesus gives his disciples, and maybe us too, a tough assignment: "Proclaim the good news ... Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons."

Simple instructions. Seemingly impossible task. I'd rather write boring expository prose than try that.

We come here to church looking for just those things: healing, new life, cleansing, and freedom from forces that trap us. But if we really listen to what happens here – and not just in today's gospel – Jesus keeps telling us that we are to share that good news and new life with others. "You received without payment; give without payment," Jesus says.

If you have found something good here – new life, some hope, some joy, some friends, some peace, some meaning to life – then Jesus says, "Go share it!"

God knows it's difficult. It's an embarrassing assignment. Just try walking up to someone and saying, "Good news! The kingdom of heaven has come near!" Or, more simply, "Jesus loves you."

In most places that message will not be welcome. Or people may look at you with the astonished and somewhat pitying look that I got from Mrs. White for my creative efforts with the penny. And Jesus says, "Shake off the dust and move on."

You are, like Jesus's first followers, called to ministry. We all serve when we gather for worship and in prayer. The church may give you an assignment: preacher or warden, altar guild or light bulb changer. You may do your very best and still be criticized or feel unappreciated. And Jesus says, "Shake off the dust and move on."

We've all been given various assignments in this life – to be father or spouse, daughter or boss, friend or employee – and when we do our best we may sometimes hear the message that our best isn't good enough. Sometimes we send ourselves that message of failure and that can be the most painful to hear. And Jesus says, "Shake off the dust and move on."

We plod through this life and our feet get not only dusty, but muddy with our failures and our disappointments.

In today's gospel story Jesus offers us a sacrament of failure and hope. Jesus tells us to leave the failures and disappointments behind and try again.

God does not send us out to do the impossible. God does send us out to give as we have received. We have been given good news to share. We have been given healing and new life, We have been washed clean and freed from forces that trap us. We have been given love.

When we tell the good news of God's love, when we try to bring God's peace to the houses we enter, when we do what we can to offer God's healing and new life to others, if they do not receive it, if like Sodom and Gomorrah they refuse to welcome those God sends, then the loss is their own. And Jesus says, "Shake off the dust and move on."

We may misunderstand the assignment the first time. And Jesus says, "Shake off the dust and move on." We may have tried our best and think we've failed, or we may genuinely have failed. And Jesus says, "Shake off the dust and move on."

Remember my assignment about the penny? That first one hidden away, the monologue that was ‘interesting' and ‘wrong'? I walked with dusty feet from that for years, not able to let go of my ‘wrong' response and not risking writing anything really creative.

In eleventh grade English I met a shoeshiner and footwasher, who helped me shake off that dust and move on. Mr Kielly, standing in for Jesus, gave me another chance to write. I dug out the same old penny, polished it up, and got the A this time.

Life is not an easy assignment. Loving is not an easy assignment Neither is following Christ or sharing Christ's peace. but we are all called to try to do our best at it. Sometimes we speak and are not heard. Sometimes we try and fail.

But when we shake off the dust, Jesus can take from us those dusty failures and frustrations so that his peace returns to us and we, knowing ourselves to be God's beloved children, are able to try again.

Go then, beloved of God, to share what you have received; the harvest is indeed plentiful.