Thursday in the Fourth Week of Ordinary Time, February 5, 2026

Mark 6:7-13

Jesus summoned the Twelve and began to send them out two by two and gave them authority over unclean spirits. He instructed them to take nothing for the journey but a walking stick –no food, no sack, no money in their belts. They were, however, to wear sandals but not a second tunic. He said to them, “Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave from there. Whatever place does not welcome you or listen to you, leave there and shake the dust off your feet in testimony against them.” So they went off and preached repentance. The Twelve drove out many demons, and they anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.

In this passage, Jesus does something strikingly vulnerable: he sends the Twelve out without protections. No food. No money. No backup plan. He strips them down to what truly matters — not because he is careless, but because he wants the source of their power to be unmistakable.

They are not sent as religious entrepreneurs or self-sufficient experts. They are sent as witnesses. Their authority does not come from what they carry, but from whom they represent. The walking stick is enough — not as a weapon, but as a sign that they are travelers, pilgrims, dependent on the road and on God.

Jesus also sends them two by two. The mission is never solitary. Faith is not proven by heroic individualism but by communion: encouragement, correction, shared prayer, shared fatigue. Even the apostles are not meant to preach alone.

Their message is simple and demanding: repentance—a turning of the heart, not a performance. And remarkably, their preaching is accompanied by real effects: demons are driven out, the sick are anointed and healed. The outward signs confirm the inward truth. When hearts turn toward God, chains begin to loosen.

But Jesus is also realistic. Some will not listen. Some will not welcome them. And here he gives a command that protects the freedom of both the preacher and the hearer: shake the dust from your feet. Do not linger in resentment. Do not force belief. The Gospel is an offer, not a coercion. The disciples are to move on—lightly, peacefully, without bitterness.

This passage is not only about the Twelve long ago. It is about the Church always. And it is about each Christian life. We are sent with less than we think we need, so that we may discover what is truly sufficient. We are sent to rely not on control, but on trust; not on polish, but on truth; not on self-importance, but on authority received.

When we live the Gospel this way—unencumbered, communal, gentle but clear—something still happens. Hearts are stirred. Wounds are touched. And God, quietly and powerfully, goes ahead of us on the road.