Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
“When Jesus saw the crowds, He had compassion for them,
because they were like sheep without a shepherd.”
Jesus had been journeying through countryside, teaching in
synagogues, proclaiming the Good News, and healing diseases and afflictions and
Matthew notes that Jesus had compassion on the crowds. It wasn’t the people who
gathered to hear Him, or even the deaf, the blind, and the lame that made his
guts hurt. It was the crowds, the people of God. They lacked spiritual leaders
who cared for them and strengthened them with the Word of God. They were like
sheep without a shepherd. They made his guts hurt. That’s what compassion means
– His stomach hurt for their situation.
What do shepherd-less sheep look like? Lost, wandering, and
in danger of being picked off by wild animals. What do shepherd-less people of
God look like? Remarkably the same: lost, wandering, and in danger of being
picked off by satan.
I suppose there were many things He could have done. He
could have stayed right there and shepherded them Himself – after all, Jesus
identifies Himself as the Good Shepherd. He could have called the scribes,
pharisees, Sadducees, and priests to task and then showed them how it was done.
He could have even miraculously provided in ways that we cannot even begin to
imagine.
But, instead, Jesus speaks to His newly commissioned and
called disciples, telling them “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are
few. Therefore, pray to the Lord of harvest to send out laborers into His
harvest.”
Prayer is often treated as “the Christian thing to do.” When
we don’t know what else to say, we drop our voice a half-octave and utter
solemnly, “We will keep you in our prayers.” It has become so trite that even
comedians now make it part of their schtick about “thoughts and prayers.” For
Christians, prayer has become a refuge of last resort. Several years ago, a man
I know got a bad concussion. While in the ER, some friends stopped to check on
him. His wife said the doctors had done an Xray, CAT scan and MRI. I suspect
one of the friends was quite uncomfortable in the setting and, looking for a
sanctified escape, uttered “Well, I guess all we can do now is pray,” to which
the man replied sarcastically, “Oh, no! Is it that bad???”
Jesus calls the newly minted disciples to pray to the Lord
of Harvest. It’s a bit of a mixed metaphor, jumping from sheep and shepherds to
harvesting, but in an agrarian society that understood all blessings come from
God, the disciples would have understood this to refer to God Himself. Their prayers, invited and commanded by Jesus
Himself, will be heard and answered the God.
Have you ever prayed for something, only to discover that
your prayers are answered in ways you could never have imagined? I suspect that
was the case for the twelve, here. After instructing them to pray, and what to
pray for, Jesus takes the Twelve and sends them out as the very workers they
were to pray for. It’s as if Jesus is
saying, “Pray for harvesters. Guess what, guys: God is providing whom you have
prayed for with you.”
Last week, we heard Jesus call Matthew to discipleship with
the simple command and invitation, “Follow me.” Matthew seems to fill out the
ranks of disciples because today’s Gospel follows almost immediately after and
we have named, for the first time, the men we come to know as The Twelve. Each
was called by Jesus to follow Him.
Follow is an interesting word in our modern world. When I
was a boy, it meant to be close, to be near someone. Since it is Father’s Day,
I’ll use the example of, when I was a little boy, following in my Dad’s
footsteps while he stomped through the fresh Iowa snow. Children learn by
following – kids follow their parents’ speech, mannerisms, and ways of doing
things. There is a physical connection, a closeness to following someone. Now,
we use the word mostly, it seems, to describe social media interaction. We
follow someone on Facebook, Instagram, Snap Chat, or YouTube. But, it’s a
different kind of following, isn’t it? It’s at my leisure; I choose whom to
follow when I want and often they never know it. It’s impersonal; it’s distant;
it’s a rear-window view into someone’s life. And, because of that separation,
there is little risk in me following someone. If I like you, I follow you. If
you bore me, or I disagree with you, I click “unlike” and disappear into the
ether-world.
Often, at least in today’s world, that’s how people engage
with the church. They chose to follow a church, whether that’s on social media
or in person. They engage – from a distance; they follow – at arms’ length;
they participate – minimally. Jesus, the Church, discipleship, they can all be
changed or altered or passed by with just a click of the mouse, changing an
address on the GPS, deciding it’s just not for me and following something or
someone else instead.
Following Jesus is up-close, personal, and intimate. It’s
less about the follower and more about the One who is followed. Leading is
active; following is passive, but in an extra-ordinary, following Jesus is also
transformative. The Word does that. The Word penetrates deep and changes you
from the old adam into Baptized conformity with the Father through the Son by
the power of the Holy Spirit. Jesus’ call to follow me moves you from “out
there” to “in here,” into fellowship, into oneness into the body of Christ, the
Church. Jesus calls the Twelve, not just to follow and go along for the ride,
but to be active, transformed instruments in the work of the Kingdom. They are
to comfort those who were discomforted by a lack of a shepherd. They are to
tell about the One who is the Good Shepherd who comes into the world to save.
Remember – this is still early in Jesus’ ministry. The
disciples don’t get it all, yet. They are still – as we would say – in
training. They have much to learn. They will go out, and they will preach and
teach in His name and with His authority. That’s the key word, here: His
authority. Only in the name of Jesus and by His command can they heal the sick
of every affliction. Only with the name of Jesus will demons submit to their
command. Only with the name of Jesus will death be driven away. Only with the
name of Jesus will true comfort be found. They’ll think it’s about power and
authority and the miracles and the crowds. But Jesus will have more, much more
to teach them about exactly Who He is and what it is that He must do.
Recall Jesus instructions to the disciples: “Pray to the
Lord of the Harvest.” If you have ever planted a seed, you know this: for there
to be a harvest, first, the seed you planted must die. This is true whether it is
the smallest of seeds like mustard seeds or a large seed like a peach pit. When
you put that seed in the ground, it must die. In its dying, new life forms and
from that new life comes the harvest – ten, twenty, fifty fold more than the
original, single seed. So, in praying to
the Lord of the Harvest, Jesus is pointing ahead to His own death. In the
Gospel of John, later in His ministry, Jesus uses this image to speak of
Himself to teach the disciples what must happen. “Truly, I say to you that
unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if
it dies, it bears much fruit,” (John 12:24). Christ will die. He will be buried
in the ground. And it will seem that all is lost: there is only death and
still, silent earth. But, on Easter, the Harvest springs forth. Life abounds.
Joy erupts. Christ is risen, raised as the first-fruits of the Great Harvest
that is to come. St. Paul will pick up this image in 1 Corinthians 15 – make
that your devotional reading this week. Paul proclaims, “20 But in fact Christ
has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.
21 For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the
dead. 22 For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive. 23
But each in his own order: Christ the firstfruits, then at his coming those who
belong to Christ.” It will be a resurrection harvest that we can only begin to
imagine.
But it begins with praying for the Lord of the Harvest to
send out workers. Its no secret that the Christian church is struggling right
now. Any poll will tell you that, outside the massive mega-churches, almost
every denomination in North America is on a downward slide. The Lutheran Church
– Missouri Synod is no exception. Not only is there a decline in overall church
membership, but there is a shortage of pastors and church workers. I cannot
speak for all denominations, but in the LCMS, we are expecting a significant
shortage in the next ten years with about a 4-to-1 ratio of pastors retiring to
those entering the ministry. In the twenty years since I graduated, we went
from 196 men graduating our two seminaries in 2000 to just over 70 this year. I
think it was something like 40 churches who attempted to call a graduate to be
their pastor did not receive one. The average length of vacancy in the Texas
District is now about two years. To put some skin on that, using that
statistic, St. Paul, Groves – who called me this spring to be their pastor –
will not have a pastor until Easter, 2025.
Pray the Lord of the Harvest to send workers into the field.
The people of God who are shepherd-less need the Lord’s under-shepherds to care
for them so that they don’t wander, stray and become lost. The Lord will have
compassion on us, His people – not just the LCMS, but the entire Christian
church on earth. And, who knows how the Lord will answer your prayer. Perhaps
it will be your son who becomes a pastor, your daughter who becomes a deaconess,
or a grandchild who becomes a Lutheran school teacher, a nephew or niece who
becomes a missionary in the inner city, a foreign nation, or down in the brasada
of the Valley so that these people, these lost, wandering shepherd-less sheep
might also know the same love of Jesus and the forgiveness of sins that you and
I know and receive by grace through faith.
No comments:
Post a Comment