Mark 6:7-13 tell the story of Jesus sending out his twelve apostles to do the work of ministry. We don’t know much about this incident other than that they proclaimed a message of repentance, performed exorcisms, and anointed sick people with oil for their healing. We are left to guess whether it was a one-time event, or whether this telling is an explanation of what Jesus had them doing in every town and village they came to, like an overview added by Mark to explain the reasons for apostolic ministry in his own day. As always, let’s use this essay to examine what we know rather than to speculate too much about what we do not.
Jesus “called the twelve and began to send them out two by two.” A few chapters earlier, Mark tells us that Jesus appointed the twelve, from among many disciples, to be those who received special instruction concerning the kingdom. They were in the inner circle, privy to the deeper meanings behind Jesus’s stories, and close enough to him to learn his habits and ways. The twelve represent an intimate walk with Jesus, from those who follow him for myriad reasons, to those who give up their lives to know him more. I don’t think it is an example of those who are really saved compared to those who just claim to be, but more the difference between someone who claims Jesus and one who spends time in contemplative practice within his presence, getting to know Jesus, and to be known by him.
Think of it in contrast to the “called out ones” that constitute the church. We are all called out of the world, and thus we make up the church. But we are not all sent in the same way, thus “many are called but few are chosen.” While that could be used as a metaphor for salvation itself, I like to think of it as a way of identifying what we are supposed to do now that we are part of the church.
The verb for the phrase “send them out” has the same root as the noun ‘apostle,’ and it links them to Jesus as emissaries of his purpose and character. The significance of their number and their call to “go” should not be missed. Jesus was setting up the constitution of a renewed Israel, from twelve tribes to twelve apostles, each a reflection of Christ. Whenever we are sent out, we are a part of that kingdom government, ambassadors for the way of the Master, unheralded by the systems of this world.
They go out in pairs, six little missionary teams on a mission. The Torah declared that testimony should be declared by at least two witnesses, a fact that found its way into the understanding of missionary activity as well. As early as Acts 3, the apostles Peter and John constituted a ministry team, and Paul went out with Barnabas in Acts 13 and with Silas in Acts 15. While it has the obvious benefits of companionship and accountability, it has a practical life lesson attached too. Some journeys can only be taken with a partner.
One example of this illustration is the journey of life we take with our spouse, the one with whom we are linked in heart and spirit—the one with whom we are, mysteriously, “one flesh.” Once we are married, we can no longer take the journey alone. We don’t lose our personality, but we surrender our autonomy, for the road we took alone was abandoned so we could pick up the hopes, dreams, faults, and failures of our partner. We get a semblance of this in other relationships, like business partnerships, where two people are better than one. Sometimes the solo act is okay, but when it is not, it really is not. Following Jesus is learning the difference.
The apostles are certainly not reflections of marriage, but the partner idea can be traced back to the Garden. The allegory appears to be that when you go on a mission, choose to go with someone you can trust so that when no one else accepts you, you have someone to talk to. Besides, God saw that Adam was alone and deemed it “not good.”
The apostle were sent out as travelers, on a mission field, not as permanent residents. They were not to look at laying down roots and building something permanent. This is certainly no illustration of the way to plant a church. The instruction that they are to take no provisions—namely no bread—speaks to the fact that they are to be laborers worthy of their bread. If they are provided for, they can take it as evidence they are where they should be, and they stay until it dries up. They don’t dig wells and outstay their welcome. Their journey was to be like Elijah at Cherith. If the ravens provide food, stay. If the ravens go, it is time to pack up.
The lack of preparation could reek of irresponsibility when viewed through the lens of the world. Who goes on a journey without all they need? Jesus is sending them out on temporary missions, and an abundance of provisions might discourage them from moving on when it was time to do so. What might we learn from this story about how difficult it is in societies of wealth and comfort to follow the dictates of the Spirit? Do we have so much that moving on is impossible? I don’t dare answer this question for anyone else. In fact, I’m not even comfortable asking this question of myself.
What the story might indicate is that sometimes we are to simply follow where he leads without waiting around for all the answers. If we drag our feet, hoping to get everything taken care of from a financial, social, or professional standpoint, we might miss the window to do what we need to do. Whether the world approves of such an attitude or not is beside the point, and frankly, is taken up in Jesus’s next instruction.
If they do not receive you, “shake the dust off your feet,” a way of saying you should be prepared to move on. In the time of Christ, strict Jews would shake the dust off their feet after travel in pagan territories. Refusal of the gospel invites a similar reaction for the believer. It also shows us how little we are to leave behind in places that do not want us in the first place. Do not be quick to attach yourself to what does not attach to you. Don’t leave your heart where it will be trampled. This does not mean we don’t take risks with love; we just don’t leave behind what ought to go with us. Instead, shake off what you do not need. Some relationships are dust.
Why does Jesus invoke the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah regarding those who reject the apostles? It is worth noting that the earliest Greek manuscripts of this passage do not contain this warning—they have the verse ending just before Jesus says this. What we are to do with that exclusion is unclear. It could have been added by a later scribe or moved here from another passage and it does seem a bit out of place considering Sodom and Gomorrah is often thought of as two places that were judged for their rampant sexuality. But when you take a fresh look, their inclusion here might not be so odd.
I want to encourage you to search for a sermon I preached titled, “When A Stranger Calls.” It is a couple of years old now and can be found online by searching for the title and my name. It details the judgment of Sodom and Gomorrah as a reflection on their lack of hospitality, namely, towards the stranger. God went down to visit them to see if what he had heard was true, an indication that he wished to see how he would be treated if he appeared as a man. He did, and the result was not good. If the words of Mark 6:11 can be attributed to Jesus it is because those who refuse the apostles are being compared to those who refused God at Sodom. Be careful when you slam the door on a stranger. They just might be an apostle, or an angel unawares.
Finally, the apostles have a mission and a message. They preach repentance, a word linked to the ministry of Jesus. Repent, change your mind, the kingdom is here. The king has arrived and there is an alternative way to the ways of man. You can access that kingdom by turning from your natural way of thinking into his way of thinking. It would be interesting to learn how many new converts the disciples won with their message of repentance. Note that they were not told to go preach Jesus to people, which is what we see them doing in the book of Acts. Prior to the death of the cross and the resurrection, the message was simply a proclamation of the kingdom. Following the passion of Christ, the gospel did not change, it just found its fullness in Christ’s finished work. The kingdom was not on its way, it was here, and the king had conquered death by dying.
The mission of these six groups of two was to preach and to perform, and the text tells us they performed exorcisms and anointed people with oil for healing. The anointing oil went on to see prominence in later years, and its presence here is interesting, since we have no reason to believe they learned this from Jesus. Then again, maybe they did. Jesus was a man of his time, hearing from the Father who dwells both inside and outside of time. Whatever their motivation, the apostles use of anointing oil was at least their attempt to smear onto the sick something tangible, which is exactly how they viewed the healing power of Jesus: tangible, and real.
While our journeys and callings are not identical to those of the twelve, we do have something tangible and real to offer the real world. We can take authority over the darkness, point people to the light, and smear them with the loving presence of the Father. It is not our destiny to do what Peter, James and John did, but it is our privilege to do what Jesus tells us to do. We are not copying the disciples; we are learning from them. As they went out as emissaries to the world, so we do the same, and may the same Jesus that anointed them rise through all of us.
Grace to you.
Deeper Daily Podcast- Essay Edition 