Exodus 19:2-8a; Psalm 100; Romans 5: 6-11; Matthew 9:35—10:8 (9-15)

The Church is . . .

"The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest."

Jesus has a problem.  The more he travels the more widely he becomes known.  The crowds that flock to him are increasing in numbers, and he knows that there are even greater numbers beyond these.  He turns to his disciples and says, "The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few;” so he summons the twelve and sent them out to do the Lord’s work.  What would have happened if these twelve named in this morning’s Gospel simply said to Jesus—“Hey man, that’s your job!  We’re just here to hear the words and hang out with the folks.”

Such a response would not have been uncharacteristic of God’s people  Whining seems to be part and parcel of being a follower—from Exodus to the last Gospel. 

Having just been delivered from slavery under the cruel Egyptian taskmasters, the Israelites—being pursued by the Egyptian Pharaoh’s army—beginning yelling at Moses:

 Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness? What have you done to us, bringing us out of Egypt? Is this not the very thing we told you in Egypt, “Let us alone and let us serve the Egyptians”? For it would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness. (Ex 14:11-12

Then again, a little further on the way—the issue this time is water,

But the people thirsted there for water; and the people complained against Moses and said, ‘Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?’ (Ex 17:3)

And we all know these are only two of many examples of the complaints thrown at Moses.

One of the most poignant examples of this sort of tentative relationship with the Lord is found in the Gospel of John.  Here we find Jesus popularity at its peak.  From the view of nearly any observer, including the apostles, things had to be seen as going well. The crowds were growing, people were listening, and their mounting concerns about intervention emanating from Jerusalem had not materialized. But Christ perhaps knew better. He surely was concerned about the mixed crowd surrounding him--those who sought to exploit him for a variety of personal reasons, those who sought to live off his bounty (perhaps seeking another free lunch), and those who seemed to view his miracles as a source of entertainment and constantly pressed him to perform more and more "signs" as they called them.

So Jesus withdrew to the comparative seclusion of a Capernaum synagogue and there spoke more strongly than ever before to the spiritual nature of His kingdom. You remember those words from John. For I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will, but the will of Him who sent me. For it is the will of my Father that everyone who sees the Son and believes in Him shall have eternal life; And I will raise him up at the last day.”

Oh well, that set the mumblers and grumblers into high gear.  No loaves and fishes today—no exciting miracles; this religious claim is too outlandish.  The pressing crowd dwindled to nothing, and finally the synagogue is entirely emptied, except for the little group of the stunned Twelve who have been the sorrowful witnesses of the shattering of the Master's popularity and of the fabric of their private ambitions. It was then that he looked around on them and put the pathetic question, " Do you also wish to go away?"  What an incredible moment of truth and test of faith that must have been.  Here now sit the twelve, face to face with the Son of God, making a conscious decision that will effect the very existence of Christ’s Church and life in the world forever.

It seems to me there are some penetrating questions that emerge from all these moments—both 4,000 years ago and today.  As a follower of Christ, “What do you seek?” and the question less asked is “What are you prepared to pay for it?”

Here then, the nub of life as a Christian in the 21^st century is found in the question—What is the Church?  What do you expect it to be?

Well, I think I know what it is not.  It is not a McDonald’s fast-food restaurant—with or without the drive-up window.  A steady diet of unbalanced fast foods, we know, just isn’t healthy. 

And I don’t think the church is like a Country Club, where one comes, pays dues and therefore has the right to complain that the tennis nets are not tight enough, or that the greens on the golf course are too dry, or that service in the dining room is too slow.

So what, then, is it supposed to be?  Or, more accurately, Who is it suppose to be? If we can look at Scripture not only as something to be venerated, but as a source of  teaching and instruction, revisiting both the events referred to earlier might give us a clue.

With the Israelites in encampment, Moses has reached a point of frustration—What shall I do with these people; they are about to stone me.  And in one of those divine interventions, Moses’ father-in-law Jethro appears on the scene and offers sheds light on both the cause and the solution to Moses dilemma.

 ‘What you are doing is not good. You will surely wear yourself out, both you and these people with you. For the task is too heavy for you; you cannot do it alone. ¹⁹Now listen to me. I will give you counsel, and God be with you! You should also look for able men among all the people, men who fear God, are trustworthy, and hate dishonest gain; “ and set such men to help you so they will bear the burden with you.” (Ex 18:17-22).

Jesus, understanding The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few, sends out the twelve, and later the 70, to share his work in the world. And the twelve commission others who in turn commission others—and we are the Church.

The Church was given fuller shape and substance by St. Paul—who was, in fact, not a Pope or a Bishop, but a church planter.  He wasn’t even an architect—because the Church was (and still is) not a building, but a people living out the life Jesus asked of us.

Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, writes Paul to the Colossians (Col 3:2). Now you must get rid of all such things—anger, wrath, malice, slander, and abusive^* language from your mouth, he continues (3:8).  As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience (3:12).  And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful (3:15).

And the Corinthians he writes, For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Chris.  Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many (1 Cor 12:12-14). 

When we meet together, says Paul, we are to do so with hymns, scripture reading, prayers (always prayers), breaking of the bread and sharing the cup, and offering unto God from what He is given us.  And the Royal Priesthood of which Peter speaks in his first letter (1Pet 2:9) doesn’t refer only to me or my fellow clergy, it means all of us—all of us all the time!

There are several lessons to be learned from all this.  First and foremost, the harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few—and we will harvest nothing if wes are preoccupied by wringing our hands, rather than using them to do God’s work.

Secondly, in every case, troubles always beset God’s people when their faith fails them—whether in the Sinai, or in a synagogue in Capernaum or in Christ’s Church in the here and now.  Strange how in times of need we readily turn to God to guide and help us—but at those times when we are called upon to serve Him, we simply can’t—and get perturbed because someone else won’t.

Third, it appears the best way for a religious leader (priest or otherwise) to keep from getting stoned is to put people to work.  And that, of course, is clearly the answer, God’s people doing God’s work in His own Church; not complaining because it isn’t being done for you—but stepping up and becoming part of the one body.

Finally, we should not be involved in anything that will not bring people to Christ.  Love one another, take the Gospel to the ends of the earth and bring people to life eternal through the doorway of Christ Jesus.

And this Sunday, we do just that—we celebrate a new life Christ—Hugh Turner - a true miracle of God and a precious gift to Jay and Fiona.  As we baptize him with water and the Holy Spirit and mark him as Christ’s own forever—find your own rebirth here today, not as a follower of Christ, but as a believer in Christ Jesus and the eternal life he promises to us all. 

For you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people,^* in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light (1Pet 2:.9) AMEN