
A Sermon for the Third Sunday after Pentecost
The Rev. Patricia A. Gillespie
Exodus 19:2-8a
Psalm 100
Romans 5:6-11
Matthew 9:35--10:8
A bunch of people from our central Minnesota "Spirit of the Heartland" churches were at an international conference this week. It was planned for about 200 people, and 450 or so showed up. It was chaos. Meeting spaces had to be changed and rearranged. Meal lines were incredibly long. No one seemed to know where to go or what was going to happen next. In the words of today's gospel, "They were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd." With this description of chaos you might not be surprised that this was a conference on Total Ministry.
It's how total ministry feels at times, especially in the beginnings, like now when we are trying to discern a ministry team. We keep hoping and praying that Jesus will look at us with compassion and come to our rescue. It's how total ministry feels at times, especially in the beginnings, like now when we are trying to discern a ministry team. We keep hoping and praying that Jesus will look at us with compassion and come to our rescue.
Certainly at the "Living the Covenant" conference there were plenty of shepherds. There were lots of bishops in attendance, but they were mostly in disguise: Without their miters or royal purple, they looked just like the other sheep, wandering about, trying to find campus buildings and the right room number. Sheep without a shepherd.
The harvest at this conference was plentiful – lots of people showed up and there were lots of interesting workshop topics -- but the laborers – or at least the leaders – seemed few. And yet an amazing thing happened. Out of the chaos, people began to gather. Unplanned groups formed around shared concerns. People shared the leadership and their wisdom. And the work got done and conference will continue to bear fruit from the shared ideas and visions of ministry.
Somehow the harassed and helpless crowd of the conference changed from sheep without a shepherd to laborers of the harvest. Someone, perhaps most of the attendees, must have been praying for "The Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest." Somehow the followers, the sheep, became the leaders.
That is what total ministry is about. The apparently shepherdless sheep are enabled to shepherd themselves. And that's part of what's going on in today's gospel. Did you notice the change in what those guys hanging around Jesus are called? They have been called "disciples" – meaning, students and followers. And now Jesus calls them "apostles" – meaning those who are sent. The followers are sent out. The students become the workers. The sheep become the shepherds.
This passage from Matthew marks the moment when the followers gathered around Jesus "graduated." It is their "commencement" when they are sent out, "apostled" to commence -- or begin -- their work. Jesus offers instructions to these new "laborers" sent out to commence their work. Simple instructions for a difficult task: "As you go, proclaim the good news, 'The kingdom of heaven has come near.' Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons..." And off they went, to do the work in his name, as disciples become apostles.
Did they do it perfectly? Not at all. The gospels and the book of Acts tell us over and over again of the ways they missed the mark, dropped the ball, fell over their own feet, and generally were the gang who couldn't shoot straight.
There is a church around the world today, witnessing in every nation to the Good News of God in Christ. All because the disciples, imperfect as they were, answered the challenge of Jesus to be sent out to proclaim the good news: "The Kingdom of God has come near."
Our baptismal promises include the promise that "we will, with God's help, proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ." That's because we, too, are apostles.
Oh, I know you've probably always thought that title belonged to those first twelve guys. When was the last time you spoke of yourself as an "apostle"? But if you've made those baptismal promises -- as many of us did just two weeks ago -- you've taken vows as an apostle. You've promised to minister in God's name.
You might even try it on for size. Try saying to yourself, "I'm the apostle ______."
Because of our baptism, we are all ministers, sent out as apostles to serve God and God's people. It's true. Go ahead and say it: "I am a minister, the apostle _________."
All too often we're tempted to forget that we are ministers and apostles. And then we treat our life as a church as if it were an end in itself. We're happy to gather within the comfort of our worship and our buildings and our communities, just to be in the presence of the Lord. We've been content to be disciples, safely gathered around our Lord, shutting out the world and neglecting our gifts and abilities. To be a minister and an apostle is to risk, to venture, to step outside our close familiar company and into a world of people caught in suffering and fear. It takes courage to be an apostle and to minister.
The followers gathered around Jesus weren't much different. They certainly weren't eager to go out there, outside the comfort of the close circle of friends and companions. But Jesus saw the world, grieving and wounded, and knew its suffering, felt it in his own bones, in his own heart. He saw the crowd, like sheep without a shepherd. So Jesus sent out his first apostles to bear the power of God into the world, to heal the sick, to bring the reconciliation of love. And he sends us still, to do the same. To be ministers of God.
Like the first apostles, we won't be perfect. We'll make mistakes, miss opportunities, go back on our word, betray our Lord. But our Lord is endlessly forgiving. And he keeps sending us back out into the world, in his name. The first apostles, our forebears in the faith, in the power of God, turned the world upside down. You can too.
Thanks to the Rev. Canon Linda Strohmier for the seed for this sermon.