NOTES for Mar 6:7-13

All the Synoptic Gospels mention the instruction Jesus gives His disciples when He sends them out to preach. In Matthew it turns out to be the most detailed and vivid; in Mark, as in Luke, we see more of a retelling of the Savior's words than the words themselves as they sounded. Of course, with regard to the Gospel of Matthew, one can also speak of editing, but here the color of Jesus' Jewish speech is nevertheless better preserved.

Thus, in Matthew Jesus tells the disciples to take "neither sandals nor staff" for the road, whereas according to Mark He tells them, on the contrary, to take only a staff for the road and to wear simple sandals. This difference obviously presupposes Mark's interpretation of the Savior's words. By forbidding the disciples to take a travel bag, sandals, and staff, Jesus is allegorically comparing their mission to standing before God in the Temple court: when entering the Temple court, one had to leave the travel bag and staff at the entrance, along with the sandals.

Jesus calls His disciples to remain constantly in the same inward standing before God in which a person should be near the altar during sacrifice. This inward standing before God was the main meaning of their ministry. Only in such a state could they fulfill the chief task entrusted to them: to reveal to the world the breath and power of the Kingdom. It is no accident that the Savior endows the apostles with power to do the same things He Himself does.

Only in this way could people be made to understand, or at least to feel from their own experience, what the Kingdom is. Words alone about the Kingdom, which, as Jesus Himself says, "has drawn near," were not enough here. Theological arguments do not work in such cases; witness is needed. And the possibility for Jesus' disciples to manifest the same power of the Kingdom that their Teacher manifests became the witness that the Kingdom really had "drawn near."

If it were otherwise, no one except Jesus Himself could have manifested its power, and no one else could have performed either miracles or healings. The Kingdom would have remained the possession of the One who brought it into the world, and of no one else. Meanwhile, in practice it turned out that the most ordinary people could share in it, provided, of course, that they were ready to entrust themselves to the One who brought the Kingdom into the world. Such witness spoke better than any arguments, because it was truly living and effective.

The mission of the disciples was connected first of all not with preaching as such, but with those manifestations of the power of the Kingdom that everyone could understand without words. In antiquity both pagans and Yahwists paid far more attention to real manifestations of power than to words and explanations, not to mention abstract theories. Of course, there were exceptions: intellectuals existed if not in every age, then in almost every age, and they always trusted an elegant concept and a vivid theory more than practice.

So it was among pagans and among Jews, and Plato's Academy in this sense was no different from the Jewish academies where learned rabbis and interpreters of the Torah taught. Jesus, however, sent His disciples not to theological academies, but to ordinary people who, as in old times, trusted manifestations of power more than fine words.

Of course, such faith was not always a guarantee that the experience was spiritually sound: power in itself is ambivalent, and it can be connected both with God's action and with the action of those created powers that are not only disobedient to God but directly oppose Him. And yet the Kingdom was first of all precisely a manifestation of power, and only then a manifestation of love. From within the Kingdom, of course, everything looks the other way around: first come the relationships of love that bind the inhabitants of the Kingdom to one another and to God, and only then, as something derived from those relationships, comes the power that changes the universe.

From outside the Kingdom, from the fallen world, however, power appears to be the main characteristic of the Kingdom. The fallen world knows love only very little and in part, but it knows power very well. Besides, this world respects power, while it treats love at best with condescension and at worst with contempt. That is why the reality of the Kingdom, which, according to the Savior's word, "has come near," was best demonstrated at the beginning precisely through manifestations of power. This was, of course, only a first step, followed by others, but it was an absolutely necessary step.

Today's passage is devoted to the description of the preaching of Jesus and the apostles in Jesus' homeland, that is, in Galilee (v. 1). Paradoxically, it was precisely in Jesus' hometown that His preaching had, as it appears, the least success and trust (vv. 2-6). But this is not surprising: quite often it is external closeness, and especially family closeness, that prevents people from seeing a person's true greatness and the events that take place with his participation. This evidently happened with Jesus as well: for His household, as for the residents of His hometown, He was merely a well-known fellow townsman and relative, and in His homeland they evidently did not perceive Him in any other capacity. It was at this time that Jesus sent the apostles to preach, and the main theme of their preaching was to be a call to conversion (v. 12). At the same time, however, the most important fact was that the apostles preached not in their own name but as Jesus' disciples, and all their preaching thereby became testimony to Him as the One who had given them the power to do what they did (v. 7, 13). The ban on taking provisions on the road (vv. 8-9) recalls the custom of the ancient prophets, who likewise took no provisions with them on the road, relying on the hospitality of those they would have to pass by. Jesus commanded His apostles to act in the same way (v. 10). But of course there could be no question of imposing one's testimony on anyone: in case of rejection, Jesus commanded the disciples simply to leave the house or city where they were not received and forget about it (v. 11; "shake off the dust," that is, shake the dust from one's feet after leaving a house or city, was in the East a symbolic gesture meaning that the person who did this no longer wanted to have anything to do with that house or city). Such preaching undoubtedly had to make Jesus known throughout all Galilee.

Who would go to a carpenter for healing? That question arose among the people of Nazareth when Jesus, already famous for miracles, visited His own hometown. These people saw Jesus only as their familiar neighbor, who earned His living by the carpenter's trade. They already had their opinion of Him, and they were not ready to accept a new one. Yes, people say that He works miracles, but we know Him!

This is precisely the mood that explains the small number of miracles Jesus performed there. He never performed a miracle for the sake of a miracle and did not draw attention to Himself through dazzling shows. Miracles, as a rule, were a response to people's needs. And if no one asks for help, how can a miracle show itself? Jesus could have helped many if they had wanted it. As it was, He "marveled at their unbelief."

Jesus' disciples had witnessed how people rejected Christ through unbelief. They had not yet experienced such treatment themselves. And now the Lord sends the apostles out to preach, equipping them not with a bag, bread, or money, but with authority over unclean spirits and with important instructions about how to carry out their ministry. Notice that Jesus prepares the disciples both for people accepting their preaching and for rejecting it.

Service to the Lord is not always accompanied by visible success, fame, and recognition. Keeping Christ's commandments can lead to people rejecting us. Therefore, as we follow Christ, it is always fitting to ask ourselves: am I ready to be rejected for Him?

It is not surprising that Jesus cannot work a miracle where people do not believe Him. After all, every miracle is nothing other than a manifestation of the Kingdom that He brought into the world. And the Kingdom is not forced on anyone; it can be accepted and entered only freely, by trusting the Savior.

But if there is no trust, one may fail to notice the Kingdom at all, even while being physically in the same space with it. Spiritually, the person who does not trust Christ will be in different dimensions from Him, and therefore will also be in different dimensions from the Kingdom. But why is Jesus not accepted in the town of His childhood, where He grew up, where everyone knew Him from the time He was a boy?

Perhaps, paradoxical as it may sound, precisely because they knew Him too well. Of course, when some world-famous celebrity, or at least someone famous locally within his own country, returns to his hometown, especially if the town is small, it is always a celebration for the town and a reason for legitimate pride. But the point is that Jesus was not that kind of celebrity, and the inhabitants of Nazareth sensed this perfectly well.

Jesus' renown was already somewhat scandalous, although He did everything He could to avoid a popularity He did not need at all. Such renown could bring the inhabitants of Nazareth no benefit. But even that was not the main reason for their rejection. The main thing was that to acknowledge Jesus as the One He truly is meant also acknowledging His obvious and unquestionable superiority over themselves.

For provincial mediocrity, such acknowledgment is completely unbearable. Then a psychological mechanism is switched on that changes one's point of view toward a great person, making one ignore what matters most and focus on secondary details that have nothing to do with the issue.

And so there arises the illusion of understanding, of knowing "reality," familiar to everyone who has ever said of some great fellow citizen, "Come on, we've known him since childhood," then adding several of the vulgarities usual in such cases. It is not surprising that such a view of a person, whoever he may be, completely excludes any possibility of real, deep relationship. And in the case of Jesus, it also completely excludes any possibility of sharing in the life of the Kingdom that He brought into the world.