Fourteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time
Psalm 66:1-9
The Gospel of Luke 10:1-11, 16-20
Preached at House of Hope Lutheran Church (New Hope, MN)
July 3, 2022
– – –
Grace and peace to you from God the Creator, Christ the Liberator, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
+
Something I am learning this year, the first year I have had space to plant a garden, is that just like there’s always more to weed, there’s always more to harvest. And that harvest comes when it will – the plants don’t care that I’ve had a busy week at work, or that we don’t have our drying racks set up – the harvest comes when it will. And the cycle of Creation will continue, whether or not I manage to catch the harvest. The plants will continue to grow, and throw out seeds, which will grow roots, grow plants, produce another harvest, even as parts of the original plant die and overwinter. Creation runs on this cycle – birth, life, death, rebirth, again and again and again.
“The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”
This text is urgent. It is timely. And that is not only true right now, in this moment, but has been true throughout time and space.
The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.
God’s Kingdom is plentiful, it has come near, but the laborers are few.
Before we reflect on how we might be laborers, alongside the seventy, heeding the call of Christ, of God, I want us to take time to reflect on the Kingdom of God, and what this passage of Luke tells us about it.
One of the theological frames I find most compelling is that the Kingdom of God is inbreaking into our world – it is already here, and not yet here, like shafts of sunlight breaking through a cloud. That would mean that we’ve all experienced glimpses of the Kingdom – moments of God and community breaking through, even just for a moment. For me it also strikes what feels to be an authentic balance of God’s agency and the fact God made us co-creators. And in this frame, the Kingdom of God is not something we are waiting for to happen all at once, in a cataclysmic event – instead, it is emerging, and growing, and taking root.
What is the Kingdom of God?
The Kingdom of God is a plentiful harvest – where there is enough for all. Enough food for everyone to eat, where no one will die from hunger. Enough homes for all to be sheltered, where no one will die from exposure to the elements. Enough wealth for all to have access to healthcare, where no one will die because they can’t afford their insulin or out-of-state travel. Enough care for all, interconnected networks of community where you can provide care to others when you have the capacity, and receive care from others when you don’t, where no one will die from lack of support. Enough abundance for everyone to have a role in the Kingdom – farmers, lawyers, nurses, artists, children, dreamers.
The Kingdom of God brings peace. Peace to you who are weary. Who are carrying heavy burdens. Peace to you whose heart is unsettled. Peace to you who are living in conflict. Peace to you who don’t dare to dream of peace. Peace to you who have never known peace. Peace to you who have rejected peace before – the peace of God and community is there for you to grasp and return to.
The Kingdom of God is nourishing, and filled with care. Bring all that you have, and all that you are. When Jesus sent out the 70, he sent them with no purse of coin, no bag of food, and no sandals to protect their feet. Instead, he sent them out to rely on the care of others, bringing only themselves, and that was enough. He sent them out to be nourished by others, staying with a family, eating and drinking the same meal as their hosts, at the same table. They were to be guests welcomed in like family – and that welcome is the Kingdom.
The Kingdom of God is the community of God, a place to build lasting connections and relationships. Jesus didn’t send the seventy to jump from house to house, town to town – he implored them to stay with the community. To stay in relationship. To me, this points to the need to know your community, to know the place you are in, right now, even if that’s not where you’ll be forever. To build relationships with your neighbors, to know their names – trusting that those relationships, however mundane, however secular, however interfaith, are holy. Are of the Kingdom.
The Kingdom of God brings healing. And this is a point to be careful with – the Kingdom of God brings healing in the sense of restoration, in the sense of a relief from pain and suffering, in the sense of structural changes that center accessibility, that listens to those most impacted, trusting that people have agency and choice over their bodies, and over their care. I don’t believe the Kingdom of God brings healing in the sense that everyone will be cured and fit the mold of what our capitalist systems deem to be the “ideal body” or “ideal productive body”. Instead, healing and peace and abundance are entwined in the Kingdom, where everyone will have their needs met.
And when we weave in the Psalm for today as well, the Kingdom of God is a place of singing, and praise, and worship, and life abundant. There is room for joy, and laughter, and relaxation. There is room not only to labor for the harvest, but also to enjoy the harvest – because otherwise what’s the point? The Kingdom of God is not some far off thing – it has come near, and there is great joy in that, even amidst the great sorrows we individually and collectively carry.
All of this is real, Gospel truth – the Kingdom of God is a plentiful harvest, where there is enough for all, where we are connected to each other and to Creation and to God, where the diversity of God’s Creation is celebrated, where we care for each other, where we sing, and where we lament, where we live interconnected lives of abundance.
If this is the harvest, if this is the Kingdom that has come near, why are the laborers so few?
I’ll join you in this, but if anything I just said about the Kingdom of God felt too good to be true, too impossible, or too naïvely optimistic, I would invite you to raise your hand.
Did anything about the Kingdom of God feel too good to be true? I sometimes think so.
Believing that there is enough, that we can choose to live together in a different way than we have been, that fear and scarcity don’t have to imprison us – that is the labor. That is the challenge.
Believing and living that the harvest is plentiful, even when our own doubts creep in, even as we are surrounded by systems that tell us that’s not how the world works, that not everyone can survive, that there isn’t enough for all – when you still trust in God – that is the labor.
Believing and living that the harvest is plentiful, even when you get driven out for merely suggesting that things can be different than how they are. When you are not even welcomed in with basic hospitality, because peace is too risky, hope is too risky – and you still share the reality of abundance – that is the labor.
Believing and living that the harvest is plentiful, even in the midst of despair – that is the labor.
This Gospel text is hard. Because it requires us to let go of our own egos for the sake of God’s Kingdom. The seventy aren’t sent out to say “I told you so”, or “Glad you finally came around”, or “You must pass X, Y, or Z test to join us”.
They are sent to bring peace. To share in the reality of a plentiful harvest. To be in community.
If a town doesn’t welcome them, they aren’t sent to rain down fire, or to force them to join. Instead, they are to wipe the dust off their feet, wiping off the rejection. In a way, this is the disciples being sent with permission to set boundaries – it is not their job to force their ideas on others, or to labor in a place that will drain them of life and energy. If a town doesn’t welcome them, it doesn’t mean the town is shut off from the possibility of abundance – the disciples still share with them that the Kingdom of God has come near, leaving the door open for them.
They are sent to bring peace. To share in the reality of a plentiful harvest. To be in community.
The seventy are asked to check their own egos. Even though they have power over spirits, even though they cannot be harmed, that is not where their joy is meant to come from. Their joy does not come from power, but instead from their inclusion in God’s Kingdom – that they are woven into this reality of freedom, of liberation, of abundance, of community.
They are sent to bring peace. To share in the reality of a plentiful harvest. To be in community.
And we are sent to labor alongside them. To bring peace. To share in the reality of a plentiful harvest. To be in community. Even when this work feels too impossible, or too small, or too far off. Even when we are scared to hope that things can be different than they are – because it is scary and risky to dream of something better because it’s easy to get hurt.
We are sent to cling to our faith that the Kingdom of God has indeed come near, despite our best efforts to hold it off. The harvest comes when it will.
Beloveds of God, this labor is both ordinary and sacred. The labor of the Kingdom of God is asking for support when you need it, and giving support when you can. It is sharing a meal, sharing a sign of peace. It is knowing your neighbors. It is breaking unjust laws. It is taking time to pray and worship and dwell in moments of joy. It is taking time to mourn and lament the way things are, as we dream into reality a different way of being community together. It is finding your role – whether that be as a weaver, or a cook, or a dreamer, or a healer, or a prophet, or a worker.
We are called to bring peace. To share in the reality of a plentiful harvest. To be in community.
May we be counted among the laborers as we share in the harvest. Amen.
Reed Fowler 