Anybody who’s ever packed the car for a family vacation has to be scratching their heads a little at today’s Gospel.

“Carry no money bag, no sack, no sandals” sounds really foreign to anyone who’s squeezed four suitcases, two duffels, a sleeping bag or two, a camera bag and a Coleman cooler into the back of an SUV.

C’mon. Carry no sack? Can’t be done.

This is really stretching the idea that with God, all things are possible, right?

And then there’s the part about wandering into somebody’s house, wishing them peace, and then bunking in for as long as you feel like it. These days, if you don’t make reservations via Kayak or Airbnb, at best you’re out on the street and at worst you’re going to be arrested.

Times have changed a lot since Jesus gathered up six dozen people – and more – to share the Good News.

Times have changed, a lot.

Not necessarily for the better.

Now, in the first century AD, life was a lot simpler.

There were fewer people. There were fewer job options – teacher, healer, rabbi, farmer, animal herder, construction worker, artisan, mother. CareerBuilder wasn’t a website; it was a stone tablet.

You owned some underwear, a robe or two, a cloak to put over the robe when it got cold, a belt and a pair of sandals. Something to cover you head to show respect to God. Maybe the equivalent of today’s messenger bag. If you were prosperous, you owned your own tools. Otherwise, you shared or used your master’s tools under his supervision.

Extended families were the norm, which meant people lived fairly communally. There weren’t many secrets.

People shared what they had, even though it wasn’t a lot.

These days, society is crazy complicated. Career choices and leisure options and fashion and technology and and….

These days, to paraphrase the late, great non-theologian George Carlin, we all have stuff. Lots of stuff. (And I’m as guilty as anybody.) We move into houses to keep our stuff in, and when we get too much stuff, we move to bigger houses. There’s even a whole industry – Uncle Bob’s Storage Units – for people who have too much stuff.

Our cars are built to carry us and our stuff. We have entire transportation systems that get us and our stuff to places that could not have been imagined 2,000 years ago. We have entire transportation systems whose sole function is to get stuff to us from the four corners of the world. We have entire economies built around stuff.

We like our stuff. As 21st century Americans, we’ve earned our stuff. And if we’ve come by our stuff honestly, it’s perfectly OK to have it. As the Gospel says, “the laborer deserves his payment.”

Of course, as we should have learned in kindergarten (thank you, Robert Fulghum), it’s important to share. And today’s Gospel implies that. It was important to share then; it’s even more important to share now.

The whole notion of sharing is kind of odd, when you think about it. It relies on a sense of community, of everybody bringing what they can to a potluck supper, to a buffet, to a swap meet. No matter how much stuff we may have, we probably have too much of some things and not enough of others. In community, we can fill each others’ needs and find balance in our lives in the process.

Nowadays, we build social networks, but not necessarily communities. We share by clicking a link on Facebook far more often than we do by bringing covered dishes to a picnic. We don’t talk to strangers, which can be good advice, but which also can prevent us from meeting a new friend. We regard aliens with suspicion, even though they may be running for their lives.

Jesus ordered his followers – that means us – to rely on the kindness of strangers. To trust in them because we trust in him. That extended his community to places and hearts where his love had not been felt before.

Those folks in the villages? The ones who answered the door and let in the new missionaries? They shared their homes, their food, their limited resources. That’s called hospitality. That’s called Christian charity.

Today’s Gospel spends most of its time talking about those whom Jesus sent out, but those disciples couldn’t have done anything if the people in the villages had earned their scorn. That’s the important subtext of today’s Scripture.

Jesus ordered his followers – that means us – to share his good news, to share knowledge of His Way, to contribute some spiritual food to the potluck wherever his followers might land. Those early missionaries contributed something the folks they met didn’t already have. They contributed Jesus. And in the process, they helped build community.

Just as we can. Just as we must.

Today is the third weekend in which we’ve heard Gospels that challenge us to follow Jesus. Three is a mystical number; psychologists also know that we need to hear something three times for it to stick.

Disciples. Disciples. Disciples. In a relationship relationship relationship with Jesus and other disciples. Disciples we bring to the Lord.

If the challenge to go forth and make other disciples seems too great, then simplify it for yourself.

Wish peace upon all you meet. If you’re asked, tell the people that Jesus is the source of that peace. Share the Good News. If you’re not asked, just make Christ’s presence in your life obvious. But not in anybody’s face.

Share what you can of your stuff. Be realistic. Look for opportunities to share. They’re as close as the bin in the shopping center parking lot.

Share what you can of your time. Be really realistic. An honest No to something that would overextend you is better than a broken promise. Jesus understands that: In St. Matthew’s Gospel he told the parable of The Two Sons. Wisdom from two millennia ago is true today.

Share what you can of your love. Welcome the stranger, the person ever so different from you, the person society has pushed to the margins.

Simple steps. Everyday-life steps.

And these will make disciples, disciples, disciples, brother and sisters in the community of Jesus.