Mission

Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age. (Matthew 28:19-20)

But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth. (Acts 1:8)

Bilbo Baggins’s mission is to break into the dragon-guarded mountain and take back the dwarves’ treasure.

His nephew Frodo’s mission is to carry the One Ring to Mordor and cast it into the fires of Mount Doom to destroy it, and Sauron’s power over Middle Earth along with it.

Ben Kenobi’s mission is to disable the Death Star’s tractor beam so the Millennium Falcon can get away.

Luke Skywalker’s mission is to fly his X-Wing Fighter back to the Death Star and drop a proton torpedo down an exhaust port about the size of a womp rat.

The mission of the starship Enterprise’s crew is “to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.”

What is your mission? Is it to travel to another country on the other side of an ocean to build houses for widows or lead camps for women who have been victims of human trafficking? Is it to go to another state and help with Vacation Bible School for refugee children? Is it simply to be the best likeness of Christ that you can be to the people you interact with as you go about your business in your own city or town?

Where your mission takes you is really beside the point - whether at home, to the ends of the earth, or anywhere in between, it’s all covered by Jesus’s charge to us. What does matter is that you share his love and make disciples wherever you go. That is your mission.

Excuses

“So now, go. I am sending you to Pharoah to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt.” But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharoah and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” (Exodus 3:10-11)

Yoda really doesn’t want to take on Luke’s training when the kid shows up on Dagobah looking to become a Jedi. For starters, he is too impatient - he can’t even sit and enjoy a meal first.
“He will learn patience,” comes the disembodied voice of Ben Kenobi’s Force ghost.
“Much anger in him, like his father,” is Yoda’s next argument.
“Was I any different when you taught me?” says Ben.
“He is not ready.”
Luke himself valiantly protests this one, though it is hard to argue with someone who has been training Jedi for 800 years.

After a brief tirade in which he accuses Luke of being a daydreamer and adventure-seeker (“A Jedi craves not these things,” you know), Yoda comes up with a new item for his list: “You are reckless.”
Ben steps in once again: “So was I, if you’ll remember.”
“He is too old to being the training.” Yoda is grasping at straws at this point, trying to come up with any excuse to get out of doing this task that he clearly does not want to do.

Yoda’s list of excuses reminds me a lot of a similar list that Moses made when God asked him to go back to Egypt and free the Israelites. He didn’t really want to go back - he had found a wife and a good job tending his father-in-law’s flocks there in Midian. Not even hearing the voice of God coming from a burning bush inspired enough awe to obey without questioning.
“What makes me special enough to do this job?” Moses asks.
“I will be with you.”
“Well, what if the Israelites ask me what I’m doing here? Who do I tell them sent me?”
“Tell them I AM…” and God proceeds to give a list of other descriptors Moses can use as well. In fact, he gives Moses an entire script to follow when speaking to the elders and a fairly detailed description of what will happen.
“But, but, but...what if they don’t listen to me?” asks Moses, at which point God gives him three signs involving his staff, a snake, leprosy, water from the Nile, and blood that he can perform for any doubters.

Now Moses is grasping at straws: “But I’m just not a good speaker - I have this lisp and I never know what I should say until I’ve already said something stupid. You really need to send someone else.”
“Fine,” says God, who is now fed up with Moses’s backtalk. “Your brother Aaron will go with you and speak for you. No more excuses. Now go!”

Both Yoda and Moses remind me of myself sometimes when I’m asked to do something I just plain don’t want to do. But what if, instead, I think of Luke who, despite his immaturity and whininess, really does want to learn? Or the Israelites oppressed in Egypt who would be happy for anyone to come along and be their champion, however imperfect? In the face of that, those excuses seem mighty small and petty. I pray I may remember to look at the bigger picture the next time I’m tempted to start my own list.

Red Five Standing By

But he replied to one of them, “Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?” (Matthew 20:13-15)

My new favorite podcast is the Star Wars Minute, a show where the two hosts and a guest spend 15-20 minutes or so discussing one minute of the movie Star Wars. During one of the episodes for the section of the film where the rebels attack the Death Star, they brought up something that, as many times as I have seen the movie, has never before crossed my mind: what do the other X-wing pilots of Red Squadron think of Luke? After all, he just arrived with Princess Leia, having known little about the Rebellion until very, very recently. And what qualifies him to fly a space fighter in this crucial Death Star run, besides his ability to bullseye womp rats in his T-16 back home? Did he ace the X-wing simulator test or something?

More importantly, what do the other members of Red Squadron think of this hick kid from some backwater planet who just fell off the turnip truck and ended up in the fifth X-wing? Was he replacing someone who was killed, or did they pull the former Red Five and give his fighter to Luke? Is Jek Porkins jealous because the squadron positions are based on skill rankings and this new recruit has just bumped him down a spot in the listings?

They’re legitimate questions. It’s human nature to say, “But that’s not fair!” A newcomer makes the crucial shot and gets a medal, while the original rebels must stand at attention and watch and pretend to congratulate him.

Or maybe they don't. Maybe they are grateful that this kid showed up and was able to contribute, able to fill in a spot where they sorely needed someone, able to inject new blood and new enthusiasm into an organization in danger of becoming jaded and ineffectual. I’d like to think that I fall into this camp, knowing that the reward is not mine to bestow, grateful to get what I have earned and grateful for the help in accomplishing the mission, no matter how late in the day it comes, but I’m only human. God forgive me when I forget that we’re all in this Christian walk together, and give me the grace to change my attitude and be grateful no matter how late in the day others show up to join the work crew.

Cheeky Women

But she came and knelt before him, saying, "Lord, help me." He answered, "It is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs." She said, "Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table." Then Jesus answered her, "Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish." And her daughter was healed instantly. (Matthew 15:25-28)

Princess Leia from Star Wars. Laura Hobson from Inspector Morse and Lewis. Donna Noble from Doctor Who. Three of my favorite female characters in film and television, and they all have something in common - these are three cheeky women. Strong women, yes, but more than that, they are quick-witted and ready with the snarky comeback in any situation - something I aspire to every time I think of the perfect retort hours after the conversation.

They can also be disinclined to take “no” for an answer. In “The Fires of Pompeii,” the Doctor insists that they must follow the old “You can’t rewrite history, not one line!” mantra. The volcano monster must be vanquished, even at the expense of the lives of the people of Pompeii, because history says that the town was destroyed in 79 AD and there’s nothing he can do to save them. Donna, on the other hand, sees this for the BS that it is - what’s the point of having a time machine if you can’t help people with it? For every argument that he has, she argues back, and they finally reach a compromise: they can’t save everyone, but they can at least save Caecilius and his family.

The gospel passage in the lectionary this week is an odd one. It’s hard to imagine Jesus turning away anyone who needed his help, regardless of where she’s from. Then again, if Jesus didn’t want to help non-Jews, he wouldn’t have been in the region of Tyre and Sidon to begin with, and he would have let his disciples turn the woman away like they wanted to do. Instead, he makes a comment that leaves the door wide open for this cheeky Canaanite to toss back a cheeky reply as she refuses to accept his first answer. Evidently that is enough to prove herself, for the end result is that she gets what she came for. Jesus said it was because of her faith, but I think I know better. And I think cheekiness is something I will aspire to in my spiritual life as well.

Such a Long Way from Here

He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? (Micah 6:8)

It is a pivotal scene in Star Wars: Obi Wan Kenobi has rescued Luke from the Sand People and has taken him to his house in the Tatooine desert. While Luke fixes the droids, Obi Wan tells him that his father was a Jedi. He gives Luke his father's lightsaber and then invites Luke to come with him to Alderaan to help Princess Leia. Every time we've seen Luke so far in the movie, he's been whining and complaining about his farm chores and talking about how he wants to leave Tatooine and go to the Academy and become a pilot, but when the invitation is finally issued, he turns it down. Why? Well, he says, "I can't get involved. I've got work to do. It's not that I like the Empire, I hate it, but there's nothing I can do about it right now. It's such a long way from here."

I hate the fact that outside of the "first world" countries, so many women have it so very hard. Some are oppressed and denied rights because of their gender, and many die from pregnancy and childbirth complications simply because they have no access to education and healthcare. I hate it, but there's nothing I can do about it right now. It's an overwhelming problem and I am just one person. I am living my comfortable life in the United States, and it's such a long way from here.

I think it was Helen Keller that said "I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something." Better yet, by working together we can do so much more. I am proud to support an organization called Global Women, whose mission is to improve the lives of women all over the globe. It supports people who work with women who have been sold into sex slavery in Eastern Europe, so that they may learn a trade with which to support themselves and come to know God's love and forgiveness. It provides volunteer teachers who travel to places like Burma and Indonesia to help train women to be midwives and medical aides, and its members collect supplies to put together birthing kits for these women to use. It collects scarves and hats for women and children at a battered women's shelter here in the United States. It educates those of us who have about the awful plight of women half a world away and sometimes closer who have not, and it gives us a way to do something about it.

I am only one, but I can do something. I can give money. I can buy supplies for a birthing kit. I can crochet hats and scarves with some of the leftover yarn I have lying around in abundance. Most of all, I can pray: for the women being helped, the suffering women yet to be helped, and those who are called to go and do the helping. And I can pray for myself, that I never forget that there is something I can do, even when it is such a long way from here.

(If this is something that touches your heart as it does mine, I would encourage you to visit the Global Women website to find out more about what they are doing to improve the lives of women throughout the world and how you can get involved in helping them. You don't have to be a woman to support them, either!)

A Good Blaster at Your Side

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval. By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible. (Hebrews 11:1-3)

In the Doctor Who episode "The God Complex" that I wrote about last week, when the Doctor finally figures out that the monster feeds on people's faiths and not their fears, he gives as evidence the fact that Rory never seems to be in danger. The Doctor attributes this to the fact that Rory is not superstitious or religious – he doesn't seem to have any kind of faith. I don't think that's true, though. Everyone has faith in something. Take, for instance, two key conversations from Star Wars. In the first, during a meeting of Imperial leaders aboard the Death Star, Darth Vader and Admiral Motti have differing opinions about the best course of action:

Motti: Any attack made by the rebels against this station would be a useless gesture, no matter what technical data they've obtained. This station is now the ultimate power in the universe. I suggest we use it.
Vader: Don't be too proud of this technological terror you've constructed. The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force.
Motti: Don't try to frighten us with your sorcerer's ways, Lord Vader. Your sad devotion to that ancient religion has not helped you conjure up the stolen data tapes or given you clairvoyance enough to find the rebels' hidden fortress…
[Admiral Motti chokes as Vader uses the Force to strangle him from across the room]
Vader: I find your lack of faith disturbing.

In the second conversation, on board the Millennium Falcon, Han Solo has been watching Obi-Wan teach Luke how to use at lightsaber:

Han: Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, kid.
Luke: You don't believe in the Force, do you?
Han: Kid, I've flown from one side of this galaxy to the other. I've seen a lot of strange stuff, but I've never seen anything to make me believe there's one all-powerful force controlling everything. There's no mystical energy field controls my destiny. It's all a lot of simple tricks and nonsense.

Admiral Motti and Han Solo are both set up as non-believers in these two scenes, but in both cases it is clear that they do believe in something – for Motti, it's technology and the power of the Death Star, and for Han it's also technology and weaponry, in addition to his own wits and skills. Both men put their trust in things seen and handled and personally experienced rather than some abstract, nebulous, god-like "force," like Luke and Obi-Wan and Vader do. In Admiral Motti's case particularly, it turns out to be misplaced trust in the end when the Rebel Alliance manages to blow up his "ultimate power in the universe."

I think I am like Han Solo more often than I realize or would wish to admit. I'm not nearly as cool as he is, but I am hard-headed and independent and want to do things myself. I want to take care of myself; I want to make things happen by myself. I don't have a good blaster at my side, but I do have my wits and my smarts. I would do well to remember that my abilities are insignificant next to the power of God, and that he is in control and I don't have to do it all on my own all the time.

 

Believe It

Then the disciples came to Jesus privately and said, “Why could we not cast it out?” He said to them, “Because of your little faith. For truly I tell you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.” (Matthew 17:19-20)

It’s a well-known scene from The Empire Strikes Back: Luke’s X-Wing fighter is sinking into the Dagobah swamp and Yoda wants him to get it out. Luke closes his eyes, stretches out a hand, and concentrates on the Force, but only manages a bit of a wiggle before it disappears completely under the water. Dejected, Luke watches as Yoda steps up and uses the power of the Force to lift the entire spacecraft out of the water and set it on firmer ground.

“I don’t believe it!” Luke exclaims.

“That is why you fail,” replies the Jedi Master.

This reminds me of the conversation between Jesus and his disciples in Matthew 17. A man brings his son, who suffers from life-threatening seizures, to Jesus for healing because the disciples, whom he had consulted first, had been unable to help. After Jesus gets the job done, the disciples look at him slack-jawed. “How’d you do that?” they ask him later, after everyone else leaves. Like Luke, they want to know, “Why couldn’t we do that?”

Faith is a powerful thing, and it doesn’t take much faith to make a powerful impact, according to Jesus. I think that’s because, like a tiny seed, the slightest bit of faith can grow into something that takes over and pushes out the doubts. But, also like a small seed, it takes nurturing and watering and practice for the little bit of faith to become great faith. So I keep plugging along, believing that one day something great will come about, despite my doubts and fears, and I thank God that it doesn’t take much faith at all to start the process.

Anything for a Friend

No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends. (John 15:13)

Friendship is a major theme throughout the Star Wars trilogy of films. It influences actions and provides motivation for characters to do things they otherwise wouldn't dream of doing.

It's what made Ben Kenobi engage in a lightsaber duel to the death with Darth Vader so that the Millennium Falcon and its passengers could escape from the Death Star.

It's what made Han Solo turn the Millennium Falcon around and come to Luke's aid during his bombing run on the Death Star, and what made him ride a Tauntaun out into the freezing Hoth night to find Luke when he hadn't returned to base.

It's what made Luke, against the advice of his mentor and teacher Yoda, leave the relative safety of Dagobah and fly straight into a trap on Bespin because he felt through the Force that Han, Leia, Chewbacca, and the droids were in danger.

It's what made Luke, Leia, Chewie, and Lando risk life and limb to break into Jabba the Hutt's fortress and relieve him of his prized wall decoration, the frozen body of Han Solo encased in carbonite.

Friendship is powerful. It is more powerful than the Dark Side of the Force and it's more powerful than any other form of evil. Friendship brings life, sometimes literally, as in many of the examples above. Even if my friends don't ever actually prevent me from being seriously harmed, though, they are still one of God's wonderful gifts that help make my world a brighter, happier, more life-filled place.

No Excuses

As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea - for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, "Follow me and I will make you fish for people." And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him. (Mark 1:16-20)

As I noted last week, the Hero’s Quest is a major archetype in stories and mythologies of all types, and writing about it in the context of Hobbits reminded me of another popular modern take on the theme: Luke Skywalker. At the beginning of Star Wars, he is a just another bored kid from the back of beyond dreaming of a more exciting life anywhere but Tatooine. He wants desperately to get off of Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru’s moisture farm and go to the Academy, where he will learn to be a fighter pilot like his friend Biggs. Day after day, nothing changes, until the fateful day that two droids drop from the sky and lead him to an old hermit named Ben Kenobi.

Old Ben listens to R2D2’s message from Princess Leia, and as he prepares to answer her summons, he issues Luke the invitation of a lifetime: come with me to Alderaan, learn to use the Force, become a Jedi like your father. It’s just the ticket Luke has been looking for, the chance to get away from this backwater planet, learn to be a kick-ass warrior, have some cool adventures, and help a good cause, too. So what does he do? He whines about how Uncle Owen needs his help, how he’s busy on the moisture farm, how he’s been neglecting his chores while hanging out with this crazy old fool, how he’ll catch hell when he gets home for all the time-wasting he’s done.  He rejects the opportunity he’s wanted for so long, and he gives no good reasons for it, only excuses.

Of course, Luke does go with Ben in the end, but only after all other options are snatched away from him. He returns home to find it in ruins and his aunt and uncle dead, killed by Imperial Stormtroopers. With nothing left to lose, he finally agrees to go with Ben to Alderaan and to learn to be a Jedi. Why does it take such drastic measures to convince him? When it comes down to it, it seems that Luke suffers from comfort zone-itis, the fear of leaving the familiar to follow a call to something greater.

God wants no excuses when he issues a call, but comfort zone-itis is a widespread disease. Why do we make so many excuses instead of saying yes right away? Why is it that it sometimes takes drastic measures to break us out of our ruts and to get us to accept Christ’s invitation to follow him? I guess it’s just human nature, maybe, but I wonder how much more fun we’d have along the journey if we responded right away and didn’t waste time on excuses?