A Plentiful Harvest

Luke 10

After this the Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go. 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. Go on your way; I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals, and greet no one on the road. Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this house!’ And if a person of peace is there, your peace will rest on that person, but if not, it will return to you. 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. Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you. But whenever you enter a town and they do not welcome you, go out into its streets and say, ‘Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet, we wipe off in protest against you. Yet know this: the kingdom of God has come near. I tell you, on that day it will be more tolerable for Sodom than for that town.

These instructions of Jesus chilled me to the bone. Honestly, I had no confidence in myself, or in my partner, to accomplish what Jesus had commanded. Yes, I was one of the seventy-two, and I have to say that my partner, Joseph was his name, was just as terrified as I was.

I mean, we had been following Jesus for quite some time by now. And by now, we had witnessed amazing miracles on almost a daily basis. We’d also listened as Jesus spoke about the Kingdom of God, and how it was here, within our reach.

Could we do what Jesus commanded? Could we “cure the sick?” Could we convey the sense that the “kingdom of God has come near to you?” Jesus certainly seemed to think that we could. As he told us, “the harvest is plentiful.”

My confidence waned even more when he warned us; yes, the warnings of being like a lamb in the midst of wolves, and of whole towns that might reject us. I think we all know what a wolf can do to a lamb, right?

Despite all of our doubts and fears, we still went. I can’t honestly say why, but anyway, we did. We went, and it was some comfort to know that Jesus did not burden us with demands of success. I mean, he was not keeping score of the places that accepted us and of the places that did not. And anyway, we remembered that even Jesus was not accepted in every place, even including his home town of Nazareth.

He did instruct us in one regard: we were to pray to the “Lord of the harvest” for more laborers. To me, that meant that we were to keep our eyes open for people of faith who might join our ranks and bring the gospel message of Jesus to more communities.

I have to say that we did pray for more laborers, and that, as anxious as we felt, we also prayed for a whole lot more!

Our first experience was in a small Galilean village. Neither Joseph nor I knew a soul there. On the way, we discussed how to begin; I mean, how to introduce ourselves. To the local residents we could easily be mistaken for bandits, or peddlers or beggars. How would we gain entry into the village and into the home of one of the residents?

Standing in the middle of the main street, we surveyed the town, up and down, back and forth. No clues were given to us as we stood there, looking for any sign of welcome. Passersby immediately spotted us as strangers: most ignored us, while a few asked if we needed directions. Some seemed friendly while others seemed suspicious, some even hostile. They were all different.

But not more than ten minutes after our arrival, a young man walked up to us.

“Are you lost? Can I help you?” he asked.  It was a simple question. But it profoundly registered with us as much, much more.

Because that’s when it hit us: we didn’t need to go door-to-door, seeking a friendly face. Instead, it was revealed to us, from his simple question, that a true “person of peace” would find us. We didn’t need to find him.

“Yes, in a way, we are lost,” I replied, going on to explain that we were looking for a home in which to find shelter while in the village. “Can you help us?”

“Of course,” he replied, asking no further questions. “Come and stay with me and my family. You are more than welcome.” We gladly accepted, now even more confident that we had found that “person of peace” that Jesus described.

Why had we been so anxious? Why had we doubted? And most important, why had we not understood how our YHWH God really works?

You see, we had thought that it was all up to us, that we had to make it happen all by ourselves. And when we realized that our God was working before and alongside of us, we breathed a huge sigh of relief. Even through our doubts and fears, our God was at work. We just had to see it to believe it.

And so, it went from there. Our host had a young family, a wife and baby. They were charming people, very welcoming to us. And as an added benefit, they were also well known and respected in the community. His parents lived next door and they joined their son in receiving us with their own warm welcome.

And we began. In my weak, halting words, I tried to explain why we had come. These people had heard of Jesus, but that did not automatically make our job easier. You see, there was a lot of misinformation about Jesus. Some in their town had expressed doubts about his miracles. Some questioned his credentials as a rabbi, while others whispered concerns about the legitimacy of his birth.

But fortunately, our hosts had open minds. And so, we began to, as Jesus said, explain that “the kingdom of God has come near.”

When they asked what that meant, all we could do was to witness to our own stories of how we’d been attracted to follow Jesus and about what we had seen him do and how he spoke of justice and mercy.

It was hard, and I feared that my stumbling words would make no sense to our hosts. Again, I had not trusted that God could be at work through my inadequate witness. But amazingly, my poor testimony still reached them, and opened their hearts to our message.

They wanted to know more and over the next two days, we shared the entire Jesus story. And as we spoke, I could sense a hunger in their hearts, a hunger not unlike the hunger that I had felt when I first encountered Jesus. Yes, that hunger must have been there long before Joseph and I arrived. And so, our words, as inadequate as they seemed, fed the hunger that we finally understood had been planted in their hearts by God himself.

That’s when the words of Jesus, speaking of a harvest, finally erased all of our doubts. Because it truly was a harvest, a harvest from seeds planted by God himself in the hearts of our hosts. We finally understood just what Jesus was up to, telling us that God himself had planted the seeds and that all that was needed from us was to harvest the bounty. We are not planters, but harvesters! God does the planting, deep in the ground of hungry hearts.

Our host family helped us spread the word throughout the community. Of course, not everyone believed our witness. And that was something that we had to learn to accept. All of that is up to God, to plant the seeds and call us to harvest where there is growth.

And so it went in our first village. Success! But you must know that not all of our visits went so well. As Jesus predicted, some villages did not welcome us and did not accept our message.

When that happened, we did as Jesus had instructed. Going into the street, we proclaimed, ‘Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet, we wipe off in protest against you. Yet know this: the kingdom of God has come near.”

The Planter Outside Arles

Vincent Van Gogh

It struck me that the final words, “the kingdom of God has come near” were identical to the words we were told to use in the towns which had, in fact, welcomed us. That gave me great comfort. It means that God does not pre-judge anyone for not responding to his message of love and justice. We all hear the same message and while some welcome it and others do not, no one can excuse himself by claiming not to have been given the chance.

I lost count of the villages we visited. Were all successful? No. Did we proclaim the kingdom of God? Yes, without exception. Did we “heal the sick” as Jesus had instructed? Yes, in some places we actually did.

What did I learn? Our experience reminded me of one of the parables of Jesus. In his parable, the one who sows, sows seeds, knowing that some will not grow to maturity.

But he sows anyway, profusely, without exception. In fact, there is no place where he does not sow. Nothing is held back, even though the one who sows is aware of the birds on the path, the rocks and the thorns. The good soil responds, welcoming the sower and producing a bounty.

But it’s a bounty that still must be harvested. And that’s where we come in.

So, what about you?  Can you learn to trust the planter who sows the seeds? And are you ready to join us laborers in a plentiful harvest?