July 6, 2025
Pentecost 4/Proper 9 (first Sunday), Year C
The Rev. Dr. Elaine Ellis Thomas
St. John’s Episcopal Church
Essex, CT
2 Kings 5:1-14, Psalm 30, Galatians 6:7-16, Luke 10:1-11, 16-20
The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest
to send out laborers into his harvest. (Luke 10:2)
One of the suggested readings for a Celebration of New Ministry, which we will be celebrating here before too long, is this one from Luke. It is serendipitous that we start at the very beginning, today, being sent. It is also serendipitous that, right here at the outset, I can give you a sense of how I view the world through the lens of scripture and the traditions of the Church, because this business about wiping off the dust in protest that we heard there at the end is often justification for defining who is in and who is out, and maybe y’all should know who I believe to be in and who I believe to be out.
Another thing you will hear a lot from me in sermons to come is that you can’t read a passage of scripture in isolation from what comes around it. If there are words that indicate something came before or we are clearly dropping in on the middle of a narrative, we need to understand where in that narrative we are.
And finally, you need to know that, while my sermons and homilies may include stories or anecdotes, they will always be grounded in at least the gospel of the day if not all the readings. As an acquaintance of mine is fond of saying, “Just preach the ding-dang gospel.”[1]
So, with those preliminaries out of the way, what is happening here? Luke opens Chapter 10 with, “The Lord appointed seventy others (some early Greek sources actually say 72) and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go” (10:1). What “others” is he talking about? Well, you may remember that at the beginning of Chapter 9, Jesus sent out the Twelve, telling them to take no money and no extra clothing and all of that, and they return all excited about all they were able to do, healing and casting out demons and such. The very last words he says at the end of that chapter are, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (9:62). It’s helpful to remember that Luke was not in the habit of dividing his writing into chapters and verses. In fact, nobody was. That was a later innovation, so we could read that part about not turning back and move right into telling that crowd to go. That way, it almost reads like a dare, a challenge. Do you have what it takes? Well, let’s see about that.
Much like the Twelve sent before them, these 70 or 72 are to take nothing with them, stay where they are welcome, leave where they are not. Jesus throws in some harsh words to those who reject him and his followers, some of which we did not read this morning, and it sounds like Jesus is calling down fire and brimstone on those who refuse him and those he has sent.
But is he?
Don’t forget that, at this point in Luke’s telling of the story, Jesus has set his face for Jerusalem. Time is short and he knows that things are about to get really hard. He’s told his followers what is going to happen to him, and we know that the Roman authorities are about to make life even more miserable for the people of 1st century Palestine. You have a choice to make – stick together, take care of one another, follow the way of love Jesus has been talking about, or suffer the fate of those who think they can take care of themselves, those who would rather sit in that pot of water as the temperature keeps getting hotter and hotter.
What’s going on in our world feels a little too close to a parallel plot line for my liking. On the one hand, we have those who imagine a buff, Rambo-like, flag-waving Jesus, the image of a muscular Christianity that somehow mirrors and supports a United States that exercises authority through violence and coercion. This Fourth of July weekend is a particularly fraught time for the kind of patriotism that doesn’t care who gets hurt as long as we come out on top.
How we got from a suffering Jesus who emptied himself on the cross that the world might be drawn into his saving embrace to a gun-toting, empathy-free Jesus is beyond me.
But what are we to do with them, with all those people in those towns and villages who don’t accept what the disciples of Jesus are offering them? Can we call down fire and brimstone on those people?
Jesus said the exact same thing about them as he did about those who received the 72: “know this: the kingdom of God has come near” (10:9 & 11). Maybe they aren’t ready to receive it, maybe they still think they can do it their way, but make no mistake, it is theirs, too.
Naaman, the commander of armies were heard about in 2 Kings, was too proud and haughty to think that he should have to do anything to aid his own healing, thinking that all Elisha ought to do was to say some magic words or just lay hands on him. Elisha didn’t refuse him mercy; he simply told him to go and wash, and he would be healed. And he was (2 Kings 5:1-14).
Paul’s frustration with the Galatians is clear throughout this letter, but in the end, while he knows that many will go their own way and rely on their own abilities, what we are to do is not to hate or abandon or judge. No, we are to “work for the good of all” (Galatians 6:10).
But, you ask, what about the ones perpetrating the outrages that bombard us every day – those who cause death and starvation and desperation in Gaza; who put handcuffs on senior citizens in wheelchairs protesting proposed cuts to Medicaid; who assassinate political leaders (and their dog) because they don’t agree with their positions? What are we to do with all of this, Jesus?
We are to remember that the kingdom of God has come near to them, too. We are to put our shoulders to the plow, to go out into the villages and towns, our workplaces and community spaces, and tell them that God’s peace is with them. If they don’t want to hear it, just move on. The reign of God has come near, and maybe, just maybe, the day will come when they will step into those waters and be healed. But that is God’s work. Our work is to go and tell and love and pray, just as people have been doing in this place for 235 years, and then to return here each week to celebrate the wonders God has done in us and through us, to hear God’s Word and receive the sacraments, and then, strengthened for the journey, to go back out and do it all over again.
And that part about who is in and who is out? Beyond my pay grade. But God’s reign has come near to everyone, and it is an open invitation. All anyone has to do is to say yes. Maybe that won’t be today or tomorrow, or even next year, but it is God’s invitation, and it does not have a sell-by date. There may be those who will never say yes to this Way of Love that calls for radical hospitality, boundless generosity, and never giving up on those we’d rather close the door on. But we cannot – we must not – look back. “So let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest-time, if we do not give up” (Galatians 6:9).
Do you have what it takes? Do we, together, accept the challenge, the invitation, that Jesus is offering us?
My friends, the harvest is plentiful, and the laborers are few. We can do this…together. Let’s get busy.
[1] The Rev Dr. Kara Slade, Princeton Seminary and Trinity Episcopal Church, Princeton.