~ John Gagnon was a U.S. postal worker from Lewiston, Maine. John served three tours of duty in Vietnam in the 1960’s. He only knew Vietnam as a place of horror and war, so he returned to Vietnam in the 2000s to see the beauty of the country where he had served. Looking for souvenirs in a small gift shop in Ho Chi Minh City, John saw, among the t-shirts and trinkets, a small basket of medals. What he looked closely at the medals, it stopped him right in his tracks. They were about 20 dog tags of American servicemen – about half of them in good enough shape to read. These need to go back to America, he said to himself, they don’t belong in a trinket shop. So for $25 he bought all of them.
And then John embarked on a mission to return the tags to the families of those servicemen. He found eight of the ten families: in Tennessee, Iowa, Arizona, and Florida. He also tracked down the family of Army Sergeant George Palermo in Plainfield, Massachusetts. Sgt. Palermo was killed in Vietnam in June of 1969; he was 25 years old. After contacting the family, since they were close by, John drove three hours from his home in Maine to Massachusetts. With roses and the dog tags in a small jewelry box, he presented the tags to Sgt. Palermo’s mother, aunt, and niece. Asked about his mission, John Gagnon has simply said, “I’m doing this as a way to bring peace, as a way to bring some comfort, as a way to say thank you.”
John Gagnon’s mission that began in a Vietnamese souvenir shop mirrors the mission of the seventy-two in Luke’s gospel, a mission of peace, a mission of service, a mission to bring good news. In the gospel, we don’t know who these 72 people were. The gospel says they were other disciples, so they weren’t necessarily any of the 12 apostles. They were, it seems, ordinary people – faithful followers of Christ who were eager to spread his message.
If you want an idea of what they looked like, just look around you.
In fact, the 72 of the gospel are us. We have the same mission, given to us on the day of our baptism. Christ sends every one of us, in our own travels, to proclaim God’s kingdom of compassion and justice and to bring the presence of Christ to all those we meet.
What’s being described in the gospel, I think, is not just a one-time event, the first missionaries being dispatched to a few scattered towns. It is, in fact, the great mission of the Church through all time. And it’s not just Christ’s mission. It is ours!
The people in Luke’s gospel are being sent to prepare the way of the Lord – sent, the gospel tells us, “into every town and place where he intended to go.” And of course, that means everywhere. It’s not just Jericho or Jerusalem. But also Vietnam and Rome… Ukraine and Mongolia… South Africa and St. Louis… Shaw and Dutchtown… Botanical Heights and Belleville… Every corner of the world!
The mission is universal, and so is the message: “The kingdom of God is at hand.” Now, I suspect that, just maybe, that’s not something you say every day. I know I don’t. But we don’t just proclaim it with words. We proclaim it with our lives.
Where do you find the kingdom of God? In a Sister of Charity bathing a leper. A chaplain praying with a prisoner. A teenager volunteering to help the homeless. A mother and father teaching their child the sign of the cross. A neighbor that checks in with an elderly person during a heat wave. A nurse who checks on a patient one last time before her shift is over. A parish that welcomes those who need a home. A city that assists those displaced by a tornado. We proclaim God’s kingdom whenever we have hearts full of compassion and mercy. We proclaim it in the way that we love. That is what tells the world: “The kingdom of God is at hand.”
And we proclaim it with simply being who we are, and using the gifts that God gave us. Consider Christ’s simple instruction. Don’t take a money bag, or a sack or sandals, he tells his followers. In other words: bring nothing. Only bring yourselves. Just be yourselves. What we are, who we are, is enough. What a beautiful thought, because our Catholic tradition tells us that “grace builds on nature.” This gospel assures us that our human nature is more than enough for God to use as the foundation for grace and for good.
Friends, today, every Sunday, always, you and I are sent out into the world. At the end of Mass, we are told: Go in peace to love and serve the Lord. This week, remember, act, serve, proclaim. The Lord Jesus is sending you to announce the Kingdom, wherever you go!