Christ calls us to go forth,
to care and to cure.
Yet, for many of us,
His call seems a bit obscure.
The temptation is to dismiss it, to ignore it,
believing someone else is better equipped.
But Christ says, "Go." Go forth to love.
Go forth to endure.[1]

In the early part of the twentieth century, physicians often cared for hundreds of patients scattered across vast territories. Many traveled on horseback from one town to another. Their days were long, and they did everything they could to heal the sick. Someone once asked one of these country doctors, "How are you able to care for so many patients?" The physician pointed to the worn leather bag resting beside him and said, "Everything I need is right there." The interviewer looked at the bag and asked, "How could the contents of that little bag possibly meet the needs of all those patients?" The doctor smiled. "It certainly helps solve many problems. But it isn't the contents of the bag that matter most. It's my presence. The bag simply helps me get there."

I believe that captures the heart of today's Gospel. When Jesus sends out the twelve disciples, He is not merely asking them to pay a friendly visit. He commissions them to care for the sick, proclaim the Kingdom of God, and bring healing. It is a remarkable calling. Think about who these men were. Fishermen. A tax collector. Ordinary people. None were trained physicians. None possessed the qualifications we might expect for such a mission. Yet Jesus entrusts them with the work of healing. And what does He tell them to take? Very little. No money. No extra provisions. Not even a second tunic. To us, that may not sound significant. But in the first century, an extra tunic was a necessity. It was your change of clothing, your security for the journey. Imagine Jesus saying to us today, "Go throughout your County proclaiming the Gospel, but don't take your cell phone." Immediately we would begin thinking of everything we couldn't do. How will I get directions? How will I buy gas? How will I contact someone if I need help? That feeling of being unprepared is precisely where Jesus begins. The disciples undoubtedly felt the same way. "I don't have the right words." "I don't have the right training." "I don't have the right tools." And Jesus simply says, "Go." That may be the hardest part of discipleship. The easiest thing is to dismiss the call. "Someone else will visit." "Someone else will help." "I'm too busy." "I'm not qualified." Yet Christ calls you. Not someone else. You, with your unique experiences, your gifts, your personality, and even your weaknesses.

When I was in seminary, one of the required books I read was "Care of the Soul."[2] It left a lasting impression on me because that is precisely what Jesus is asking of His disciples. Even when you don't know exactly what to say... Even when you feel your bag isn't packed with the right tools... Go anyway. Care for the soul. As a priest, I occasionally receive a phone call. "Father, could you come? Our loved one is in the hospital." There are few things more difficult than being unable to respond because another obligation prevents it. Every priest wrestles with that tension. Yet over the years I've learned something important. Most people aren't asking me to fix their illness. They're asking me to be present. Presence is often the first act of healing. Before we can cure, we must care. Have you ever felt forgotten? Dismissed? Ignored? Wondered whether anyone noticed your pain? The disciples were sent to those very people, to the lepers, the blind, the outcasts, the forgotten. But the truth is, each one of us has been both the patient and the physician.

There have been moments when Christ sent someone into your life simply to help you make it through another day. Perhaps they didn't say anything profound. Perhaps they didn't solve your problem. But they were there. Christ was present through them. Now Christ asks you to become that presence for someone else. Almost every time we answer that call, we feel inadequate. We walk into an intensive care unit not knowing what emotions await us. We may encounter grief. Anger. Fear. Silence. Many times, I have discovered that the greatest ministry I could offer was simply to sit quietly beside the bed. That is difficult for me because I want to do something. I want to fix the problem. But Christ often asks us simply to be present. It is not about us. It is Christ working through us.

You may have noticed that today's Gospel was rather long.[3] There is a reason for that. Over the years, the architects of the lectionary have occasionally shortened certain passages, believing that some verses might be difficult to hear in public worship. Yet there is wisdom in hearing the whole account. Jesus' instructions are unmistakable: Take no gold. Take no silver. Carry no extra baggage. Go in humility. Go in vulnerability. Go trusting that God will provide what you need.

Many of you are preparing for careers. You are studying diligently. You are gathering knowledge and developing skills that will serve others well. Thanks be to God for that. But no amount of education will ever remove the moment when Christ calls you into a situation for which you feel unprepared. On human terms, you may not be ready. On God's terms, you are exactly where He wants you. The place Christ sends you may be a hospital room. A neighbor's porch. A nursing home. A grieving family. Or even your own home. When you feel that gentle tap on the shoulder...that quiet nudge in your heart...that is Christ calling.

Don't be in such a hurry. Don't always try to fix everything. The care of the soul belongs to our Lord. He simply asks us to carry His presence into the lives of others. Can you do that? That is what it means to be a disciple. Finally, Jesus calls us not only to care and to cure, but also to endure. Healing takes time. We sometimes imagine the miracles of Jesus as instantaneous, and many were but His compassion endured. His ministry endured. His love endured. The Lord of the harvest is patient. He sees the larger picture. Those who suffer long for immediate relief, yet healing often comes through repeated visits, faithful presence, and steadfast love. That is endurance.

I wish I could tell you that every problem disappears the moment we pray. Sometimes God's miraculous power does work that way. More often, however, He asks us to keep showing up. To keep caring. To keep loving. To keep being present. You may feel that you carry very little in your bag. Perhaps only a little patience. A little knowledge. A little courage. A little faith. Yet Christ delights in using our little to accomplish His great work.

So when He calls you, remember this: He is calling you to care. He is calling you to cure. Even when His call seems obscure. Never dismiss it. Never ignore it. For that is the great temptation. Instead, go forth in the confidence that Christ Himself goes before you, walks beside you, and works through you. Go forth to love. Go forth to endure.

[1] The Rev. Jon Roberts
[2] Care of the Soul, Thomas Moore, 1992
[3] Matthew 9:35-10:8