My best friend throughout most of my 20s and 30s was an eighty-year-old nun. Truly.
Sister Irene offered me my first teaching job, masterfully guided me in learning how to work with middle school students, and became my closest confidant. I have no doubt I am a priest today because of her Christ-like influence and continual prayers.
Nearly a decade ago, I helped Sister move to a new school assignment in Northeast Philly. I know how I pack to move (with enough books to open a Barnes and Noble), so I figured it would be wise to borrow my Dad’s pick-up truck, preparing myself to spend the day lugging boxes and bags from one convent to another.
Sharply at 9 a.m., I pulled the truck up to the steep stone steps, and watched as Sister Irene came to the front door carrying a small garment bag in one hand and holding a shoe box and a binder in the other. “Sister, show me where your room is, and I will go and start to get the rest of your things.”
“Chicken,” she said – she always called me ‘chicken’ – “this is it. I’m ready.”
I stood there speechless. My face must have said it all. To which Sister then said: “Chicken, I take Him at His word.”
And Jesus said to them: take nothing for the journey. Take nothing. (Mark 6)
Well, almost nothing: apparently a walking stick, sandals and one tunic – don’t you dare take two – are permissible. (I take more with me when I head to the Wawa down the street!)
In a very real way, the Rabbi was preparing his disciples to do what he does and to live as he lives. And I think we all understand at a basic level the message the Lord is imparting to all who are sent out to share the Gospel (which means all of us): don’t get weighed down on the journey by “stuff.”
What material attachments do we have that become like a second tunic to us? Is it our phone? Is it constant comfort and distraction? What do we think we possibly couldn’t live without? Quite possibly, that has begun to take the place of God in our lives. Something to ponder …
But there is another deeper level to all of this, for Jesus is not just an ancient version of declutter-extraordinaire Marie Kondo. It’s not just about downsizing our possessions. Rather, the clues to what Jesus really wants are offered in what he tells us to take.
First, the walking stick. Mark has Jesus telling the disciples to take one along. Other Gospel versions of the same account say not to carry it. Why did Mark think the stick important?
To a certain degree, it hearkens to the image of Moses, himself a great prophet who led the people through the Red Sea and the wilderness with staff in hand. The wandering Israelites seeking the Promised Land also did not carry food or other such provisions. The walking stick was enough. God would provide for everything else.
That always proved to be true. It remains so.
But there is an interesting detail that is easy to miss here, especially as our English translation doesn’t capture the real heart of what Mark was trying to convey. When Jesus told them to take the stick, the word used here is the same one used for the Cross. “Carry your cross and follow after me.” Typically, the word for Cross-carrying is not the same as one would use for holding a walking staff.
Thus, it is clear: to be a disciple – to be a bringer of the Gospel – one must carry the Cross. In fact, doing so will automatically cause rejection.
“Whatever place does not accept you, shake the dust and move on from there,” Jesus tells us. Thus, if they don’t except the message of cross-carrying, then their hearts aren’t ready for the Kingdom to break forth.
I find myself often asking the question in times of prayer: am I really willing to pick-up the Cross and follow Him? Am I allowing Christ’s love to transform my crosses into opportunities of grace and mercy for others? Or – let’s be honest – am I not willing to carry the walking stick along the journey?
Secondly, pay attention to the detail of the need for sandals. Again, seems like a unique item to tell them to pack. I would rather some Doritos and water over a pair of Nike, right?
But in that society, sandals were a sign of freedom. Servants and slaves did not wear shoes; doing so means they could run away. Free persons wore footwear, so they could come and go as they please.
Why, then, wear sandals on the journey?
God makes it obvious for all to see: the Christian disciple should walk in true freedom. Freedom from sin. Free from the chains of hatred and jealous, anger and fear. Free to rise again. Death no longer prevails.
To think that a pair of walking shoes says all that – but it does. A Christ-follower is truly free, and invites others to share in that gift of freedom.
Thus, it needs to be boldly asked of each of us: how are your shoes these days?
Are you weighed down by sin? Do you need to return to Confession? What is squeezing your heart and mind in such a way that your capacity to love is dimmed by Satan’s wish to make us distracted, anxious, vengeful and selfish? Whose voice are we really listening to these days?
Wearing sandals of freedom and carrying a walking stick-cross are signs to the world that we are called to live differently: that sin literally snuffs out our spirit … that we can’t live a life of lies … that we are made to serve God and others, not ourselves … that the Christ-life must be our goal in all things, not just for an hour on Sunday.
No wonder so many rejected the message as the disciples were sent out two-by-two. How much more so today.
In a world drowning in hopelessness and selfishness, we must be the prophets that our Lord uses today. We are all Amoses, simple shepherds and dressers of sycamores, called to proclaim the Cross and true freedom that only comes from the grace found in a relationship with Jesus Christ.
Most won’t listen. That’s okay. We are only seed planters. If your walking stick and sandals are scoffed at, shake it off. Move on. God has another person’s heart who needs your love, which is His Love, too.
Like my best friend Sister Irene always told me: “Take Him at His word.” Grab the sandals and staff!