Harvest Labor

Luke 10:1-9

1 After this the Lord appointed seventy others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go. 2 He said to them, "The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. 3 Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. 4 Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals; and greet no one on the road. 5 Whatever house you enter, first say, "Peace to this house!' 6 And if anyone is there who shares in peace, your peace will rest on that person; but if not, it will return to you. 7 Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the laborer deserves to be paid. Do not move about from house to house. 8 Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; 9 cure the sick who are there, and say to them, "The kingdom of God has come near to you.'

Recently, I’ve been fascinated, and frankly, frightened by a survey released by the Pew Research Center’s Forum on Religion and Public Life on the religious practices of Americans--in particular young adults under the age of 30. The results should be kind of scary to you, to me, to all of us who care about the young adults in our midst and the future of the church that we love so dearly. The results suggest that nearly 1/5, 20% of Americans, say that they are religiously unaffiliated, that they consider themselves to be “spiritual” and not “religious,” that they don’t go any church of any kind. These numbers are pretty alarming for this minister, and they get even scarier when they simply focus on young adults under 30. The number changes from 1/5 to 1/3, from 20 to 33%. Listen to some further results:

Two-thirds of them say they believe in God (68%). More than half say they often feel a deep connection with nature and the earth (58%), while more than a third classify themselves as “spiritual” but not “religious” (37%), and one-in-five (21%) say they pray every day. In addition, most religiously unaffiliated Americans think that churches and other religious institutions benefit society by strengthening community bonds and aiding the poor. With few exceptions, though, the unaffiliated say they are not looking for a religion that would be right for them. Overwhelmingly, they think that religious organizations are too concerned with money and power, too focused on rules and too involved in politics.

As a result of this survey, National Public Radio has spent some time interviewing young adults, asking them what is happening in their religious lives, their spiritual lives, asking about their faith histories and religious practices. These young adults tell fascinating stories. Kyle, 27, talks about the cross he had tattooed on his wrist as a teenager—a reminder of his faith during those times when he felt weak or unsure or had questions. But Kyle has since fallen away from his faith, not really able to explain why. When the interviewer asks Kyle if he believes in God, he says, “I don’t, really, but I really want to.” This response broke my heart. A Muslim young adult explains how he has fallen away from his faith because he can’t believe in a God who would ask Abraham to sacrifice his son; a young Christian woman explains how she was brought up in a Christian school but left the church when the school taught her to believe that homosexuality was a sin. She believes that each person is a uniquely created child of God and simply can’t reconcile the two ideas. A Jewish man explains how he spent every day of his life at the synagogue, but whose life was turned upside down by abuse and suicide in his home. Such different experiences, such different reasons, but the result is the same—the church is missing out on a vital group of folks just like these bright, smart, and searching young adults, and this vital group of folks is missing out on the church. The harvest is indeed bountiful, but the laborers are few.

The authors of the survey shared some other ideas about why so many young adults, or “nones” as they called them, aren’t part of any church or faith tradition right now. They suggest that the church should speak out on social issues, but maybe, just maybe, they are speaking out on the wrongs ones. They suggest that religious organizations have become too involved in politics, power, and money. They suggest that the church has gone from caring for the well-being of those around us, those outside these walls, to caring only for the spiritual well-being of those who only show up in the pews on Sunday, those who look the same and walk the same and talk the same. Maybe the church has chosen the wrong priorities in its message, causing it to become morally bankrupt. Maybe the church has gotten scared and gotten so caught up in itself and the arguments in its midst that it has chased many of its laborers away. And I truly believe that our own denomination has been very guilty of this in the past 2 decades. The survey authors suggest that our young adults want to work, that they are looking for a bountiful harvest—and that perhaps the church needs to find what has been lost and explore what can be found and reclaim its central message: that we love as Christ first loved us, that we love our neighbor as we love ourselves, that we proclaim that great message of Christ’s love to everyone we meet. The harvest is bountiful, but the laborers few.

This very same problem is echoed in our Gospel story today—a bountiful harvest with few laborers to go out and do the work. Christ calls the disciples who are gathered there, calls so many more to go out. Christ anoints 70 of them (a number that suggests many, many more), and tells them to go out to every place and town, to meet people and eat with them, to accept their hospitality and meet with them, to heal them and love them and announce his kingdom. He tells them that the harvest is plentiful, that there is so much to do. He reminds them that it won’t be easy, that there is a lot of pain in the world and a great need for healing love, reminds them that they will encounter lots of grief and hardness along the way. But, even though it will be hard, they have to go. Christ anoints them, after all, to go out and spread his message of love, of acceptance, of welcome, of grace.

You know, I think that I could preach about 10 different sermons on this text, but there are several important themes in this story for us to think about today as we study this text. Christ anoints the disciples and the others to go out and set the way for him—he doesn’t simply say “go,” but anoints them, sets them apart, ordains them for their service, makes them ready. And he doesn’t send them out on their own. I love that the text specifically tells us that Christ sends them out in pairs. None of them has to go this alone, instead, they go together to support each other, to hold each other up, to lift each other up when one of the pair is having a rough time, when the other doesn’t think he or she can do it anymore. And they’re going to need each other, as the story reminds us, because this business of setting the way for Christ is not easy. “Go on your way,” Jesus says, “see, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves.” Jesus knows that they will meet resistance, perhaps even violence, along the way. Even though the disciples can’t quite believe it when they are told, Jesus knows how his life is going to end and that it’s not going to be pretty. He knows that this proclamation is hard, that there will be lots of resistance and lots of negativity, and he does his best to warn them. Even though he will have to die alone for his message, Jesus puts the disciples and the others together, gives them support, sends them out together.

I think this story also tells us about who we are and what we are to be as people of mission, about how to do mission. When they arrive in the towns together, Jesus tells them to sit with people, to accept the hospitality that is offered, however it is offered. He asks them to abide with folks, really, which is so much different than simply telling them about Christ and then heading toward the nearest door to get to the next person. Sit with them, listen to the stories of their lives, eat what they offer, spend time with them, get to know them, be with them, abide with them. Jesus then tells them to cure, to heal, to try and fix whatever has been damaged and broken in their lives. And then, and only then, tell them about the kingdom, setting the way for Christ. As a seminary professor of mine once said in a class set at a homeless community, “It is hard to hear the Gospel of Christ on an empty stomach.” Perhaps Jesus is telling them that the most important thing about mission, about preparing the way of Christ, is not the always the quantity of people who hear the message, but the quality about how the message is proclaimed.

Jesus pretty much lays it out for them, and none of it sounds particularly easy. It would be so easy and natural, almost, for the disciples and the rest of the seventy to shut down, to be scared, to refuse to go and do mission. This is really hard stuff. But they don’t—they have been told that the harvest is plentiful, that there is much work to do out in the world. Jesus sends them out into a broken and fearful world to labor—to live and to love, to eat and to heal, to listen and to share.

And Jesus does the same for us, folks, especially today. We have all been through a lot in the last few months in the life of our church. I know that you are hurting, and I know that I’m hurting, as well. It was gutwrenching to see your tears last week as you left worship, and it was gutwrenching for me to stand before you and hold back my tears when we sang “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling.” There has been so much change, so much transition in the life of our congregation—and there will continue to be as we search for an Interim Head of Staff, as we eventually search for the next person God is calling to be with us. Transition is so hard in so many ways, and in some ways, it can hold us back, can cripple us from going out in the world to work. In so many ways, it is hard to share the message of Christ when we are hurting, so hard to go out into homes when we are nervous about what will happen next in the life of our church community.

The news for us to hear today is both great and hard as we are reminded that the harvest is indeed plentiful—and always will be. There is so much struggling in the world, so much sin, so much brokenness. As we all know so well, our world struggles with violence, with war, with broken community, with so many “isms.” We have so many ways to hurt each other and break each other, and we live in a world that is broken and fearful because of all the ways we sin. We live in a world where people are hurting and lonely and distant and hopeless. Those young adults who shared their stories in the NPR interview echoed that as they spoke about the alienation and isolation, the violence and tragedy, the apathy and doubt that has kept them away from the church. The harvest is plentiful, and our Christ needs more laborers.

It is true, we have free will, and we can choose to shut down, to ignore the world around us, to live in sadness and fear, to ignore the harvest all around us. But isn’t it better to live as those who go out in pairs, those who are anointed and set free and made ready for service? As a congregation, we have been through so much in the last few months, but the world goes on around us. There is much work to be done and many laborers needed in this broken world. I really don’t think it’s a coincidence that today is Souper Bowl Sunday—because, no matter what we are going through, we are reminded today that there are so many hungry people in our midst, right outside these doors. It’s no accident that our PCM luncheon is coming up soon to remind us that folks need help paying the most basic of bills, that work on our Habitat house is just beginning to remind us of our basic need for shelter. Life goes on. It must. Folks, if we are nothing else, we are laborers. No matter what, there is always work to be done. The harvest is always plentiful. Thanks be to God.