In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples: “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.” But sometimes for me, it’s hard to believe him. In our world, in our community, it often feels like the opposite. We see smaller churches, declining attendance, and a culture that seems indifferent, if not hostile, to Christianity. We wonder if there’s really any harvest to bring in at all.
But Jesus insists there is. And his sense of urgency reminds us that the need is great, and the time is now.
When a harvest is ready, you can’t wait. If wheat stays too long in the field, it spoils. If apples stay too long on the tree, they fall off and rot. The same is true of the mission Jesus gives his Church.
People need the good news of the kingdom even if they don’t know it, even if they won’t admit it. And Jesus sends us not because it’s easy, but because it matters.
Jesus sends seventy disciples into the towns and villages where he himself plans to go. He sends them out quickly, urgently. They are to travel light. No purse. No sandals. No extra provisions. They are told to rely entirely on the hospitality of others. And Jesus gives them one simple message: “The kingdom of God has come near.”
But notice what he does not tell them to do. They are not sent to manage the kingdom, to fix everything, or to convince everyone. They are sent to bear witness and to proclaim that the kingdom is already near.
And he does not wait until they are fully ready. He sends them as they are, ordinary people who are still learning and still growing because the urgency of the harvest won’t wait. This means that we, like the disciples, are sent not because we are fully prepared, but because we are willing to go.
But even with this urgency, we need to remember that the kingdom of God is already at work. It does not depend on us. It does not rise and fall on our readiness, skill, or success. We are merely asked to bear witness to what is already there.
Now, after proclaiming the kingdom, the disciples return rejoicing, amazed at what God has done through them. But Jesus reminds them that their true joy is not in what they accomplished but in who they are; that is: beloved children of God with their names written in heaven.
In other words, success, as the world defines it, should not be the source of our joy. Rather, we should rejoice because we are beloved children of God who listen to the voice of our Father just as Jesus did.
So friends, what does this mean for us, here and now at St. Luke’s?
As Episcopalians, we have a distinctive way of proclaiming the kingdom: a way shaped by sacraments, scripture, and community. We bear witness to the kingdom every Sunday when we gather at the altar and share Christ’s peace. We proclaim it in baptism, in confessing our sins and receiving forgiveness, in bread and wine, in silence and song.
Compared to the health and wealth, name it and claim it, megachurches, we may not feel ready to go into the harvest. We may feel too small or insignificant to make a difference. But readiness or a critical mass is not what Jesus asks of us. Willingness is.
In a world that feels harassed and helpless, fractured and weary, the harvest is still plentiful. People still long for peace. They still need hope. They still crave meaning. And God still sends us to proclaim that the kingdom of God has come near.
However, the urgency Jesus speaks of is not panic. It’s not nostalgia desperately trying to recreate the glory days. Rather Jesus sends us into the field simply because the need is real and the time is now.
We may think we need to wait until we’re mature enough or skilled enough before we share the good news, to tell others our testimony, or proclaim the kingdom. But the disciples weren’t fully ready either. And yet Jesus sent them anyway.
Sometimes it’s in the going itself, in speaking peace, in proclaiming the kingdom, that we grow into Christian maturity.
So where is Jesus sending you this week? It could be a simple conversation with a neighbor. It could be a word of encouragement to a coworker. It could be showing up here on Sunday and offering Christ’s peace to someone who needs it.
Sermon for July 6, 2025
The Rev. Taylor Vines
In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples: “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.” But sometimes for me, it’s hard to believe him. In our world, in our community, it often feels like the opposite. We see smaller churches, declining attendance, and a culture that seems indifferent, if not hostile, to Christianity. We wonder if there’s really any harvest to bring in at all.
But Jesus insists there is. And his sense of urgency reminds us that the need is great, and the time is now.
When a harvest is ready, you can’t wait. If wheat stays too long in the field, it spoils. If apples stay too long on the tree, they fall off and rot. The same is true of the mission Jesus gives his Church.
People need the good news of the kingdom even if they don’t know it, even if they won’t admit it. And Jesus sends us not because it’s easy, but because it matters.
Jesus sends seventy disciples into the towns and villages where he himself plans to go. He sends them out quickly, urgently. They are to travel light. No purse. No sandals. No extra provisions. They are told to rely entirely on the hospitality of others. And Jesus gives them one simple message: “The kingdom of God has come near.”
But notice what he does not tell them to do. They are not sent to manage the kingdom, to fix everything, or to convince everyone. They are sent to bear witness and to proclaim that the kingdom is already near.
And he does not wait until they are fully ready. He sends them as they are, ordinary people who are still learning and still growing because the urgency of the harvest won’t wait. This means that we, like the disciples, are sent not because we are fully prepared, but because we are willing to go.
But even with this urgency, we need to remember that the kingdom of God is already at work. It does not depend on us. It does not rise and fall on our readiness, skill, or success. We are merely asked to bear witness to what is already there.
Now, after proclaiming the kingdom, the disciples return rejoicing, amazed at what God has done through them. But Jesus reminds them that their true joy is not in what they accomplished but in who they are; that is: beloved children of God with their names written in heaven.
In other words, success, as the world defines it, should not be the source of our joy. Rather, we should rejoice because we are beloved children of God who listen to the voice of our Father just as Jesus did.
So friends, what does this mean for us, here and now at St. Luke’s?
As Episcopalians, we have a distinctive way of proclaiming the kingdom: a way shaped by sacraments, scripture, and community. We bear witness to the kingdom every Sunday when we gather at the altar and share Christ’s peace. We proclaim it in baptism, in confessing our sins and receiving forgiveness, in bread and wine, in silence and song.
Compared to the health and wealth, name it and claim it, megachurches, we may not feel ready to go into the harvest. We may feel too small or insignificant to make a difference. But readiness or a critical mass is not what Jesus asks of us. Willingness is.
In a world that feels harassed and helpless, fractured and weary, the harvest is still plentiful. People still long for peace. They still need hope. They still crave meaning. And God still sends us to proclaim that the kingdom of God has come near.
However, the urgency Jesus speaks of is not panic. It’s not nostalgia desperately trying to recreate the glory days. Rather Jesus sends us into the field simply because the need is real and the time is now.
We may think we need to wait until we’re mature enough or skilled enough before we share the good news, to tell others our testimony, or proclaim the kingdom. But the disciples weren’t fully ready either. And yet Jesus sent them anyway.
Sometimes it’s in the going itself, in speaking peace, in proclaiming the kingdom, that we grow into Christian maturity.
So where is Jesus sending you this week? It could be a simple conversation with a neighbor. It could be a word of encouragement to a coworker. It could be showing up here on Sunday and offering Christ’s peace to someone who needs it.