Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

After this the Lord appointed seventy others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go. He said to them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals; and greet no one on the road. Whatever house you enter, first say, `Peace to this house!’ And if anyone is there who shares in peace, your peace will rest on that person; but if not, it will return to you. Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the laborer deserves to be paid. Do not move about from house to house. Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, 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. Yet know this: the kingdom of God has come near.’

“Whoever listens to you listens to me, and whoever rejects you rejects me, and whoever rejects me rejects the one who sent me.”

The seventy returned with joy, saying, “Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!” He said to them, “I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning. See, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”

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There is something a little exhilarating about walking through security at SeaTac airport, or, for that matter at any airport. While it is a complete hassle to have to snake my way through the lines trying to pull my ticket and identification out to show the TSA agent, while it is a pain to get the liquids in the pathetic little plastic back out for the scan and to prepare my laptop for security perusal, there’s a moment after I’ve relinquished my bags, my purse, my shoes, my jacket and my belt to the conveyer belt, there is a moment when I’m standing there barefoot hiking up my pants that I feel, well, free—free of all that stuff—the bags, the purse, the shoes, the jacket and the belt—free of all that stuff and more.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love my stuff. As some of you know I not only have collections of stuff, I have collections of collections: the prodigious blue and white teapot collection, the vintage Playmobil toy collection, the slim volumes of Philip Booth poetry collection, and, yes, even the smooth-grey-rocks-from-the-seasides-of-Maine collection. I am a collector, and this perhaps is why it’s such a thrill for me to stand even for a moment in a public place with nothing in my hands or on my feet.

Today our Gospel describes Jesus sending the seventy out in pairs ahead of him to places that he intended to go, sending them out with little more than each other. He tells them to get going and to carry no purse, no bag and no sandals. He tells them to do this as they venture out not into friendly territory but traveling “as lambs in the midst of wolves.” “Travel light” he tells them, “travel very light.”

What could this possibly mean for what they will be asked to do and what they will encounter there? And what could “traveling light” mean to us as we venture out into our unknown territories each day—among the friendly and not so friendly?

Well, on a rather obvious level, for the seventy, traveling light can mean letting go of the distractions that come with stuff. So, for instance, as the seventy travel two-by-two you can be sure that none of them are distractedly thinking, “Where did I leave that purse?” or saying with exasperation, “Look at this—I need to get my sandals to the shoe repair shop, pronto!”

Yes, traveling light with less stuff to keep up with, to maintain, or to replace has got to have been liberating for them. Likewise for me and for you, it may be that unloading some of our collections would bring more energy, more focus, more lightness to our lives.

But, you know me, I have to believe that traveling light in this story means more: both to the seventy and to us.

I want to believe that it has to do with a kind of vulnerability to the world they and we are sent into, the same sort of vulnerability I sometimes feel in an airport security line as I stand there for a moment as just me. I want to believe that no bags, no purse and no shoes means no pretense and no barriers as they go out and as we go out as ourselves into a world that is thirsty for the message of the kingdom. I want to believe that the message that God has already come near to you and to me in the flesh and in our flesh is delivered not just by what they and we proclaim but is mediated by who we are—our vulnerability, our authenticity, our presence. I want to believe that this is in this passage.

And I want to believe something else. I want to believe one more thing that traveling light might mean in the context of this passage. I want to believe that is might also be linked to being nimble, to the seventy having the ability to be responsive to what is right in front of them, being able discern which way things are going as they do their work of proclaiming and even being the kingdom and making the right move in response to how they are received: to stay where they and their message are received and welcomed and to move on from those who will not receive them.

This is good news for you and for me, for it means that we do not have to “push the river” as we are often inclined to do. We do not have to make something happen all by ourselves and against all odds. Instead our task is to show up, to have a direction that we’re pursuing but in it all, to stay attentive to the movement of the Spirit that has something to do with how what we do is received in the world.

And so, traveling light means that they and we can move with the way the spirit moves. Unburdened not only from the literal bags and purses and sandals that we own but also from, shall we say, the heavy baggage of our past experiences, the full purses of our opinions and the way we think things should be, and the sandals of our limited self-understanding, we, like they, can live more nimbly, more responsively to what is actually going on right before us. We can move more fully into the positive space where the small witness we are to God’s kingdom, a kingdom in which God has already drawn near in the flesh and to our flesh, where that witness can take hold and grow.

Where are you being asked to travel more lightly, to let go of the distractions of some of your stuff, to remove some of the barriers between yourself and the world and move toward deeper authenticity, to become more nimble in how you proclaim and bring your presence to the world in which the kingdom of God has drawn near?

Today is Independence Day—the first time in my recollection that I have been in parish ministry when July 4th has actually fallen on a Sunday. For me, it’s a wonderful confluence of energies in that we are talking about traveling light. For traveling light in the many ways I’ve mentioned is, at its core, about freedom, Christian freedom. And freedom, the ability through the Spirit to see and respond to what is right before us is at the center of Christian spirituality.

Last week at a training session for lay and clergy leaders, we read a piece that Martin Smith, priest and monastic, wrote in the late 1990’s for the College for (new) Bishops at General Seminary. He said this:

“Spirituality is a complex of practices and values concerned with the divine urge for our freedom. Spirituality is not a realm of concepts and ideals but is embedded in praxis, actual ways of practicing freedom. We need lots of practice to be set free.”

And so this morning, carry no purse, no bag, no sandals, as you do what you are called to do. Leave behind some of your possessions and collections, wear your vulnerability and authenticity on your sleeve and move toward those who gladly receive what you have to offer.

Travel light. For the God of all good things, the Son of your own redeeming and the Spirit of all nimbleness goes before you, travels with you and promises to meet you at your journey’s end.

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