The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.
Imagine yourself in a large hall with forty other students in a seminary. The person in front, sitting on an elevated platform, has the task of introducing you, day by day, to various passages of Scripture. He explains his view of the meaning of this passage from today’s Gospel, The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. The teacher says that people are eager to turn their lives over to the grace of God, but they will need ordained ministers to assist them with their spiritual changes.
The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.
Now I’d like to ask you to imagine another hall, a modest parish hall in Las Vegas, with weak air conditioning, in a neighborhood far away from the infamous Strip. Instead of one person sitting up high, you listen to people sitting around in chairs telling their stories of how God has given to each of them a call to minister.
Some years ago I attended that conference in Las Vegas, titled “Total Ministry.” We rejoiced that so many different ministries had come to fruition in people’s lives, not because of a speech given by a teacher on an elevated platform, but instead because, in the hearts of such people, God had been working in them for a long time.
We’re getting away from a vision of the church which viewed only the ordained people as the ones doing God’s work, while the people in the pews supported the clergy. The ministers of St. Alban’s Church are all its members. Each one of you meets people no other Christian might meet — in your words, in the way you conduct your life, when you stand up for what is right, & when you show mercy and turn the other cheek.
When you let someone else know that the love of God means everything to you, when you let them know that you care about them as a child of God — that’s ministry. Well, if that’s the case, then what are the ordained people supposed to be doing? Just this: since all the baptized are the ministers of the church, the clergy are called to help you perform your ministries. When you are perplexed or tired out, then the ordained are there to help you to renew your spiritual energy, to support you.
The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.
In today’s Gospel passage, we hear Jesus giving some basic instructions to the first Christian ministers, to those going forth to spread the Good News. Imagine yourself among that company, doing something never before done.
Many who followed ancient religions (the worship of many gods) held feast days, placed offerings in front of statues, and recited formula prayers by rote. However, those pagans never said, “I am carrying on the redeeming work of Zeus or Athena.” But the followers of Christ Jesus are the ones who are carry on his work. What can we learn from the guidance which Jesus gave to those first disciples?
First, we should display a wise yet innocent spirit — as lambs among wolves. In Matthew’s version we have four animal images, where Luke has only two.
“I send you out as sheep among wolves; therefore be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.”
Jesus here corrects the ways we may have garbled the message of sainthood, of holiness, which is another way of saying “wholeness.” Are we too shy? Jesus challenges us to be bold! Are we too pushy? Jesus tells us to give way to children. If we’re too naive, we’re called to wise up! If too shrewd, we need to be gentle.
Next, we should project a spirit of peace. Have you ever visited a house and said, “Peace be to this house?” I’ve had that experience. At the blessing of a home — which by the way is something I love to do to make a sacred space out of a dwelling — I begin by knocking at the door, and when I cross the threshold I say: “Peace be to this house.” Even though most of the time we don’t say that upon entering, it should be in our hearts when we enter a home — especially our own!
Lastly we are to let people know that the reign of God has come near to them. How?
We can resist the atmosphere of cruelty and de-humanization around us.
We can support the immigrants among us, and confront bigotry when we find it.
It’s the challenge to make the link between our Sunday message and that Monday reality of a world crying out for tangible signs of God’s love.
I’m going to conclude this sermon by sharing a poem by Emily Dickinson. She was notoriously quiet and withdrawn, but even she had a sense of ministering, in her letters to support the people she know, into which she’d include a poem.
She’s happy, with a new Content — That feels to her — like Sacrament —
She’s busy — with an altered Care — As just apprenticed to the Air —
She’s tearful — if she weep at all — For blissful Causes — Most of all
That Heaven permit so meek as her — To such a Fate — to Minister.
–Emily Dickinson
The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.
