Hi everyone,
Welcome to worship for this 4th Sunday after Pentecost, which lands on July 6, 2025.
Unfortunately, we’re having issues with uploaded media to our server, so there is no link to the bulletin. If you would like a copy, please send Pastor Nathan a note using the contact form here (at the bottom of the page), and it will be sent to you. Otherwise, you can follow along with the words that will appear on your screen.
If you’d like to enhance your online worship experience, you can have a candle in your space, lit at the beginning of the service and extinguished near the end after the sending hymn. You are also welcome to participate in communion if you are comfortable, by having something small to eat and drink ready for consumption at the appropriate time. Further instruction will be given then.
May God’s unending love and welcome be apparent to you, this day and always!
May your Word, O God, feed us, nourish us, and lead us into peace, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
So, speaking of road rage… let me tell you about my day of driving earlier this week. I was taking our son to his new job on my way to my own job (i.e. here), and just as I turned out of our alley someone a street over from us thought it was a good time to turn left right in front of me, almost causing me to crash right into him. But thanks to my lightning fast reflexes, that collision was avoided… only for the same exact thing to happen like 3 blocks later with a whole different vehicle. I don’t know, it was like there was something in the air that morning, I wasn’t even driving that fast or anything.
A few other things happened after that around people making illegal U-turns in front of me and just general carelessness and not paying attention, but they aren’t really worth mentioning in detail except that they happened. But the real the kicker was from after I dropped our son off, and I was heading here to the church. As I turned up Nelson from Rumble and started to pick up some speed to get ol’ Chitty Chitty Bang Bang up the hill, an SUV was coming down hot in the opposite direction and made a really wide left into Watling in front of me. It wasn’t super close but my goodness it was a bad turn. But in the middle of it, she slammed her brakes to make this grand gesture of pointing hard at the posted school zone speed limit sign almost to say that I should be yielding to her. Bear in mind, I was probably going about 40 or 45 at the most while she was taking the turn at 60 at least… but this happened on Wednesday. For those of you who might not be aware of the schedule, summer school didn’t start until Thursday. So while we were in a school zone, the limit is 50 on non-school days, which this was. This person was 110% in the wrong.
Normally, on any given day none of these incidents would have bothered me very much… by themselves. But when they happen back to back to back within a 30 minute car ride like this? Then the left eye might start twitching a bit.
So what, pray tell, did I do in light of being surrounded by all these poor drivers? Well, the obvious thing that I wanted to do was to command fire to rain down from heaven and consume them all, but as we talked about last week, I don’t exactly have the power to do that. In lieu of that, I guess I could have pushed some explosion sound effect buttons if I had that contraption in my car, but I don’t. So I did the most sensible thing left for me to do: I wiped their dust off my feet in protest of them.
Of course, I’m just kidding, what I actually did was download the videos off my dashcam and put them on blast in the different chat groups I’m in, but could you imagine if I actually did just clean off my shoes in my anger? I mean, think about how hurt they would be from such rebellious defiance. Imagine the embarrassment they’d feel after having been put in their place by such a powerful act. Oh the lessons they’d learn from this well-known and poignant action that is so full of meaning.
Again, I’m being just a bit facetious. I mean this brushing the dust off your feet that Jesus told his disciples to do in today’s gospel reading, is in actual reality a very miniscule, inconsequential, and almost invisible ritual that outside of this particular passage and its parallels in the other gospels, isn’t all that documented.
Meaning, no one really knows what it means to shake the dust off one’s feet, and why Jesus told them to do it, other than what it seems like it is in this passage. And as we read this passage, this very familiar text that we know talks about sending us out on mission, it really sounds like it’s some way to disassociate ourselves from those we don’t like for whatever reason, sort of like how Pilate said he washes his hand from crucifying Jesus, he didn’t want it to be pinned on him.
So many commentators that I’ve read said that this act of shaking the dust off your feet is similar. It’s saying that we don’t want to be pinned with what consequences these misguided towns have coming to them for being so unbelieving. It’s saying that we’re washing our hands of the rejection that these heathens have brought upon themselves by their own rejecting of us and our belief. It’s saying that we aren’t responsible for the death and destruction will come down on these towns that had the gall to be unwelcoming and unhospitable to us. Oh, the lessons they’ll learn.
Except… we kind of went over this last week, didn’t we? We talked about the consequences of rejecting Jesus, the hurt and pain that will come from not welcoming the disciples, the destruction that will come upon those who have the nerve to be on the other side of history from us.
In that, there aren’t any, really.
Not in an eternal spiritual sense, that is. Don’t get me wrong, there are and should be consequences to doing wrong in the world. I’m not condoning evil or rejection of the gospel. I don’t think that we have a free pass to do basically whatever we want without worry of repercussions.
But I am saying that I wonder if shaking the dust off our feet isn’t the slap in the face that we think or even hope it is.
Because even though we talked about this just last week, we can’t help but read these texts with retribution in mind. We can’t help but look at this through the lens of our own brand of justice and retaliation. We can’t help but insert into our interpretations our worldviews of what goes around should come around, and look through the lens of our opinions around what is fair, what is right, and how we know better than everyone else.
I mean, what if Jesus’ instruction to wipe that dust is to just wipe that dust? That it doesn’t mean anything more than a bit of cleanliness on our footwear? That our own brand of justice shouldn’t be about retaliation and revenge, but about grace, mercy, and love?
Because wiping dust is a little underwhelming. It isn’t at all as dramatic as raining fire. It doesn’t really teach a lesson to anyone… except maybe us.
Maybe wiping dust doesn’t mean washing hands as much as let it roll off your back. Maybe it isn’t a passive aggressive move as much as it’s a reminder to forgive. Maybe it isn’t a rebuke for rejecting us as much as it’s a reminder to not take that rejection personally.
Like right after this instruction Jesus tells them that it’s not really them that are being rejected, but Jesus. So it’s not that they failed in what they were doing, but the timing for others to hear this message just wasn’t right yet. It’s not on them or us to determine who is saved or not, but that is up to God and God’s vast welcome and inclusion.
See while we might want people to pay for their rejecting what we believe, God instead wants people to be reconciled and restored. While we might want those who aren’t like us or don’t agree with us to get what’s coming to them and be taught a lesson, God wants all to know that they are still and will always be welcome into God’s kingdom. While our brand of justice might want to settle scores with those that offend us, hurt us, and maybe annoy us with their poor driving habits, God’s justice is about setting people free.
Free from that vengeance, free from any violence, free from the vendettas fuelled by hatred and anger. It’s the kind of justice that sent Jesus to the cross, not to punish but to redeem, to bring peace where there is division, and to declare through word, action, and community that God’s kingdom has indeed come near.
Near to you. Near to me. Near to all people regardless of ethnicity, societal background and upbringing, and even creed.
My friends, this is our hope. This is our calling. This is the message that we proclaim: that God inviting us into the Kingdom is not dependant on our understanding of the gospel; God welcoming us into the Kingdom is not determined by our acceptance of God’s love; God giving us a place in the Kingdom is not decided by how good we are, how well we can drive, or how clean our shoes can be, but rather by the grace, mercy, and love of God that is extended to us all.
So in this season after Pentecost, may we see, feel, and proclaim how the kingdom has come near to us, welcoming all people into the arms of love and community that saves us with a justice of grace and forgiveness. Thanks be to God. Amen.