A Sermon on Matthew 9:35-10:8

Preached June 16, 2002

First Christian Church, Corpus Christi, Texas

By Donald M. Tuttle

As some of you know, I just recently served on the search committee for the presidency of Homeland Ministries. That job is a very important one. Homeland Ministries is a general unit of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), and it produces programs in education, evangelism, women’s and men’s ministry and so forth. It is a vital part of the larger work of the church, which means that finding just the right person as president was essential.

And the process we used for the search reflected that importance. We started with a yearlong visioning process, then developed a job description and identified the characteristics and qualities we would want in a president. After that we hired a screener to help us refine what we had done, create a tool for screening initial applicants, and then sort through the resumes to determine who was at least minimally qualified. When that was done, we carefully considered the candidates, narrowed the field to seven, checked their references, scored their responses to a series of questions, narrowed the pool to two, before selecting a finalist. But even then we were not finished. We ran police and financial background checks before forwarding his name to the full board for consideration.

It was a lot of trouble, this process. But we were selecting a leader for the church and we wanted to make sure we chose wisely. And I think we did.

What I find interesting is the contrast between our process and the one used by Jesus. One minute he’s going from town to town, preaching and healing, and the next we’re told he summoned his 12 disciples and put them in charge of carrying out his ministry. Oh, Jesus knew them, of course. They had apparently been with him for at least a little while, but there were no interviews, no reference checks, no careful, objective evaluations to measure their ministerial potential. He just called them out and sent them off.

And the sloppiness of his process showed. You couldn’t select a less qualified or capable group of folks if you tried.

Even a child could see the poor quality of this crew. In fact, a child has. William Willimon was teaching Sunday School one time. He recounted the story of the disciples—of the betrayal by Judas, the denial by Peter, the abandonment by the rest. Afterward Willimon asked his young charges, "What does this tell you about Jesus’ choices?"

After a long silence, one little boy dared an answer. "I suppose it shows," he said, "I suppose it shows us that he was a lousy judge of character."

And it’s true. What’s worse, it is still true. Take any congregation of any size and who in it is worthy or capable of being an apostle.

Who is worthy or capable? Oh, we are good people, every last one of us. But all of us are flawed. All of us are marked by sin and failure.

Yet Jesus chooses us. He summons us to him and gives us authority to tell others that in him the kingdom of heaven has come near and to minister to people’s needs in his name. He summons us and commissions us to be shepherds over a world of helpless and harassed sheep.

How can he do that?

It is simple. The only qualification one needs to be a witness to Jesus Christ is a willingness to do so. All one needs is a willingness to let Jesus work through them. He will do the rest by providing his authority, his power, for the work.

Willingness was the only credential the disciples possessed. They were not eloquent men, but because Jesus had given them his authority—his power—they were able to speak boldly of the kingdom of heaven. Because Jesus gave them his power, they were able to stymie their critics and convince their skeptics.

Of course, they were not men of medicine either. We probably wouldn’t even want them around if we were sick. But Jesus gave them the authority to heal the sick, exorcise demons and raise the dead. Jesus gave them the power because they were willing to go in his name and do what he asked. They were willing to let God work through them.

That was the case with others as well. The church at Corinth was a mess. The people there were divided, arguing over this, that and the other. Part of their conflict focused on who followed the better leader.

But the Apostle Paul reminded them that none of them have credentials in and of themselves. "Consider your own call, brothers and sisters. Not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise," God chose what is weak to shame the strong.

Because they were willing to follow Jesus, God gave them the power to be witnesses that turned the world’s values on their head.

Nothing has changed. Only our willingness to be witnesses to Jesus makes us adequate.

He had always been suspicious of the word "evangelism." Just the word make him think of pushy people, grabbing people by the lapels, attempting to shove the faith down their throats. But despite that image he made a commitment to God that at least once a week he would share his faith with someone who wasn’t a Christian. A year after making that promise, he could only point to a couple of people who had responded to his testimony. There were no hoards of recent converts, no outpouring of new Christians—only a couple of people who were lost sheep who had been introduced to the shepherd by maybe the only person in their lives willing to let Jesus work through them.

He was no failure. He was an instrument of God.

She was standing in line at McDonald’s, waiting to order a couple of Egg McMuffins, some biscuits, coffee and juice. All of a sudden, everyone around her began to back away—even her husband. When she turned to see what was happening, standing beside her were two street people, poor homeless men who smelled every bit the part. At the register, they pulled a handful of coins from their tattered pockets and ordered all they could afford—two cups of steaming coffee.

She wasn’t sure what possessed her, but when the woman stepped up to the register, she ordered two extra breakfasts and took them to where the two homeless men had found seats. As she placed the tray on their table, one of the men turned tear-filled blue-green eyes toward her. "Thank you," he said.

Putting her hand on his dirty hand, she told him: "You don’t need to thank me. It’s God that’s here working to give you hope."

She was no more qualified to be a witness to God than you or I. But she was willing, and so Christ gave her in that moment all the power and authority she needed to be his witness.

There is an old song entitled, "Are You Able? Said the Master." It is a good song and it has its place. But it asks the wrong question. The question is not one of ability. It has never been whether we have what it takes to follow Jesus, whether we have the knowledge or skills or abilities to fill out some divine job description. The question is, "Are we willing?" "Are we willing to let Jesus work through us?" If we are, Christ will empower us to proclaim that in him the kingdom has come near. If we are, he will give us all that we need to tend to the helpless and harassed, the lost sheep who need his shepherd-like love. If we are willing, Christ will provide all we need to do the job he asks us to do. Amen.