Bible scholars for generations have asked what Jesus hoped the disciples would begin to experience when they were sent out, two-by-two, and commanded to “carry no purse, no bag, no sandals.” Jesus sent them to share peace. They are to trust in the hospitality of local folks on their journey. Jesus invited them into one of the complex realities of our lives as the followers of Jesus: vulnerability.
Vulnerability may be the true essence of our lives as human beings. When we embrace our vulnerability, we experience the depth of God and the wonder of an interdependent life. When we continue the path of holding tight to our human power we are disconnected from the larger life that God provides.
In his book, Consolations: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words, David Whyte, a deeply insightful poet and author, reflects on vulnerability: “Vulnerability is not a weakness, a passing indisposition, or something we can arrange to do without…The only choice we have as we mature is how we inhabit our vulnerability, how we become larger and more courageous and more compassionate through our intimacy with disappearance, our choice is to inhabit vulnerability as generous citizens of loss, robustly and fully, or conversely, as misers and complainers, reluctant, and fearful, always at the gates of existence, but never bravely and completely attempting to enter, never wanting to risk ourselves, never walking fully through the door” (234).
Jesus does not invite us into something he does not embody or provide. It is God’s vulnerability on full display in Jesus. It is a vulnerability that leads Jesus to death on the cross for you and me. It is a vulnerable path where, as Paul reminds us in Galatian’s this week, we “bear one another’s burdens.” Perhaps there is wisdom here to ponder, the way of faithful vulnerability that expands, deepens, and gives perspective. It is a hard and easy possibility at the same time. A vulnerable path that we ponder together as fellow, faithful travelers.
Yours in Christ Jesus,
Pastor Peter