Sermon on 3rd July 2022, Trinity 3

Lectionary Readings for the Third Sunday of Trinity 

Isaiah 66: 10-14 

Rejoice with Jerusalem, and be glad for her, all you who love her; rejoice with her in joy, 

all you who mourn over her— 

that you may nurse and be satisfied from her consoling breast; that you may drink deeply with delight from her glorious bosom.   

For thus says the Lord: 

I will extend prosperity to her like a river, 

and the wealth of the nations like an overflowing stream; and you shall nurse  and be carried on her arm, 

and dandled on her knees. 

As a mother comforts her child, 

so I will comfort you; 

you shall be comforted in Jerusalem. You shall see, and your heart shall rejoice; your bodies shall flourish like the grass; 

and it shall be known that the hand of the Lord is with his servants, and his indignation is against his enemies. 

Luke 10: 1-11, 16-20  

After this the Lord appointed seventy 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 labourers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the  harvest to send out labourers into his harvest. Go on your way. See, 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 anyone is there who shares in peace, 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 labourer 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.” ‘Whoever listens to you listens to me, and whoever rejects you rejects me, and  whoever rejects me rejects the one who sent me.’ 

The seventy returned with joy, saying, ‘Lord, in your name even the demons  submit to us!’ He said to them, ‘I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of  lightning. See, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and  over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you. Nevertheless, do not  rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are  written in heaven.’

Sermon for the Third Sunday of Trinity 

The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few. 

One of the fun parts of this job, when your turn to preach comes up, is that you  get to choose the illustration that is printed on the front of the order of worship.  

In England, if you hear the word harvest, you think, not unnaturally: ah, here is  a passage for Harvest Festival Sunday—-this year on October 23rd. A Sunday  that marks feasting, celebrating and giving thanks, a time for honouring those  who grow and reap crops. 

But we are in mid-summer, a time in the lectionary when the church focuses on  the teachings Jesus gave, a long uninterrupted stretch when we can get to the  heart of what Jesus’s life and ministry were all about, pondering what his  remembered sayings mean, and what they mean to us in the lives we live today.  

The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few. 

What did Jesus mean by this?  

The other single verse from today’s passage that I hope will stay with you is  even shorter and even more memorable:  

Go on your way. 

So, for the illustration for today, I chose a road.  

Go on your way.  

Fields waiting to be harvested, dusty roads to be travelled—-both powerful  images. 

Far away from our beautiful and newly-renovated church where we sit this  morning two great fields of harvest lie in the sun, ripening during this July,  in Ukraine and in Russia.  

Ukraine accounted for 10% of global wheat exports in 2021, according to the  United Nations, while Russia, globally, produced about 17%. 

Ukraine is the world’s fifth-largest exporter of wheat, fourth-largest exporter of  corn and top exporter of sunflower oil and meal, according to the U.S. 

Department of Agriculture. Countries worldwide rely on Ukraine for grain used  in bread, pasta and other goods: Egypt is the top importer of Ukrainian wheat,  and countries such as Lebanon and Pakistan get a majority of their wheat from  Ukraine. Ukrainian wheat serves a critical role in humanitarian efforts, as about  half of the World Food Programme’s wheat comes from there. 

But grain exports from Ukraine were down 64%, so far, in May. Russian  blockades have closed Ukraine’s ports, and the U.N. estimates that about 20  million tons of harvested grain are stuck in the country. A precipitous rise in  wheat prices this year has contributed to what the UN estimates is a one-third  jump in food prices globally. Global hunger is at a “new high,” the U.N.  Secretary-General António Guterres said on Thursday, and 13.6 million children  are now at risk. 

So mid-summer is not too soon to be worrying about the harvest, this year. 

And the labourers—where are the labourers—for these fields of Ukraine and  Russia? 

From February 24th until June 24th there have been more than 10,000 deaths in  the Ukraine, almost half of these, civilians. The number of deaths of Russian  soldiers is impossible to calculate, but conservative estimates are of at least  15,000.  

These are just numbers: it is impossible to convey the human cost.  Each Ukrainian soldier, some mother’s beloved son.  

Each Russian soldier, some mother’s beloved son.  

The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few. 

Two thousand years ago Jesus was talking about the followers he sent out along  dusty roads to bring good tidings of joy and peace to all persons. The harvest he  spoke of was that of the human beings who would gladly receive these tidings  and embrace this news.  

Jesus said: 

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.” 

This would not be an easy task in any year. When they signed up for this the  disciples must have been a little daunted, their enthusiasm dimmed at least a 

little by the awareness that some would not receive this news, that some towns  would firmly shut their doors in suspicion and hostility.  

But our passage also says that the seventy returned with joy, saying, ‘Lord, in  your name even the demons submit to us!’ 

In a world that is beset with war and with carnage of all kinds, how can we  make ourselves as vulnerable as these first disciples? They were sent out like  lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals; and greet  no one on the road. How can we travel so light? How can we be so pure of  mind and heart as not to be distracted by what happens along the way? How can  we set out on a dusty road, as they did, or even a nicely paved street,  proclaiming a different vision? 

We, the church, have a lot to offer. We have everything to offer.  What happens in the world around us, our world, deeply matters to us, dark as  this current day may seem. We do not lose hope. 

And we are empowered by Jesus’s own Spirit. 

I was at St. Paul’s Cathedral yesterday morning—I volunteer there as a chaplain  once or twice a month. Yesterday, there were hundreds and hundreds of people  pouring through the doors, from all over the world. Yesterday, a young woman,  perhaps in her 30s, asked for a chaplain. She is a Christian, from Iran. She lives  in London now, near this church. She has breast cancer. She asked for a prayer  and a blessing. Another man from Houston, Texas, exclaimed how glad he was  to hear the name of God so many times on the audioguide—-that it was not just  

an architectural tour. And there is always question after question: “Where is  The Light of the World?”—-the haunting pre-Raphaelite painting that is boxed  up because it is being relocated.  

People are asking, people are seeking, people are ready to receive the good  news they hear. 

We are those labourers in the fields of human souls, just as those first disciples  were, entrusted with the same great charge: to bring healing and peace. 

We must have confidence that we can bring love and light and God’s own  healing grace to all those who choose to receive it—- 

to those who are near and to those who are far off, to all those whom we greet  in the name of the Lord Jesus. 

The time is short, but the harvest is great. Go on your way! 

The Revd Dana English 

St. George’s Church, Campden Hill, London July 3, 2022