Draft copy of 7/8 sermon

Summer Squash

Pentecost 6 C 7/8/07

Luke 10:1-11,16-20

Grace and peace and mercy and love be to you from God our heavenly Father, and from Jesus Christ, God’s Son and our Lord and Savior. Amen.

Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but I am not a door-locker. I left the doors unlocked up in Maine near about the whole time we lived there. Here in Amherst, I sometimes leave things unlocked,

The car too—I don’t lock that very often either. My thoughts are, if someone wants a 1996 Mercury Sable with 130,000 miles on it—one that’s been hit in the rear three times and in the front once, well then, good luck with it, brother! I just don’t bother to lock it up.

Except at around this time of the year. During these weeks of mid to especially late summer, one must lock the doors of the car whenever you’re away from it. Because, if you don’t lock it up, you’re liable to come home to a back seat full of zucchini and yellow squash out of people’s gardens.

For there is seemingly nothing more productive in the garden than summer squash. It holds true in my gardening experience. I tried corn one year–got inch long ears. I planted tomatoes—never got enough for my liking. But if I merely waved a package of summer squash seeds over some recently turned up soil and added water, viola! Enough squash to feed a small army. If said army never got sick of zucchini.

Squash casserole, squash soup, squash salad, zucchini ice cream, stuffed squash a la almondine–even if you’re Bobby Flay there’s only so many ways you can prepare this surplus-itous summer-garden denizen. So, when end of August hits, people start being a little less receptive of your gift of the fruit of your toil. Even camouflaging the summer squash by putting them in the bottom of the basket and covering them with pickling cukes fools only the most novice of produce-needy neighbors. Eventually people will see you coming, basket in hand, and cross to the other side of the street. Not even offers of fresh corn-on-the-cob (take a zuke get two free ears) interests them any more.

And yet all the while, the vines get longer and longer, the leaves get bigger and bigger, and the squash–the squash become numerously prolific—not to mention humongous, gargantuan, gia-normous. God said to the plants of the earth, “Be fruitful and multiply” Summer squash took that to heart. It gets to the point where you just can no longer keep up with them. The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers few.

The harvest. To what shall I compare the grace of God? What shall I hold up against it? God’s grace is like a summer squash! Planted in the cold, barren soil of sinful hearts, it germinates in tandem with the one who rose after three days in the ground. It is nourished and fed, and thrives under the voice and touch of the master gardener. It grows, and it cannot be contained, but bursts forth from its now verdant birthplace, stretching out, reaching out tendril and vine, to find another and another and another patch of dusty soil to colonize. To find another heart to free, another mind to transform, another soul to fill. The grace of God is like a summer squash, born of a fertile flower, connected firmly to its roots as well as to its many interwoven vines, bearing fruit that is rich in flavor and wondrous to behold! And prolific. The grace of God is like summer squash!

Which brings us to today’s reading. Here in a seemingly innocuous little corner of Luke’s gospel, in this surprisingly detailed story of a first century mission trip, God lays out his bold plan for salvation in no uncertain terms. Jesus says, “The harvest is plentiful.” Abundant. Prolific. There is no shortage of grace in the world to come. There is no lack of mercy. There is no dearth of forgiveness, redemption, or reconciliation! All of these are available in plentiful supply at the harvest,

In fact, God’s grace is so plentiful, the workers sent to gather it in for distribution to all, just aren’t numerous enough to do the task justice. They stand in awe of the abundance. Compare it to seeing the ocean for the first time. Compare it with Dorothy, the Tin Man, the Cowardly Lion, and the Scarecrow stepping out into the field of poppies on the way to the Emerald City of Oz. Picture the enormity and urgency of their task by recalling Lucy and Ethel on the candy dipping assembly line.

Or think of zucchini. You can just about watch them get bigger minute by minute, they grow so fast. And they replicate almost by mitosis, it seems. There’s more and more each day, an inexhaustible supply. Taking over the garden. Overshadowing even the weeds. The harvest is plentiful—no doubt of that, but the laborers few. And workers have got to get in there and get those squash out of the field and into the peoples’ hands asap. This is definitely time-dated material we’re dealing with here! God’s grace shouldn’t be languishing in the field. People need it. They need it bad.

Only some don’t realize that. They’re the ones Jesus describes to the seventy—the ones whose house doesn’t share in their proffered peace, the ones who don’t extend them a warm welcome. The ones who cross the street and lock their car doors to avoid God’s crazy, wild abundance. Being who they are, they think they have no need of God’s grace, or they object that something so valuable is given out so wantonly, without regard to moral character or lack thereof. “Leave these ones be,” says Jesus, there’s plenty who wait with arms wide open, squash recipes at hand! Tell them, though, that God’s grace was right at their fingertips and they let it slip through. Next time they should be ready!

If there is a next time—remember, the harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. And why is that, do you think? Is it because there’s a shortage of believers? No! Is it because the waiting period for training is longer than the time it takes to get a passport? Again, no. Is it because we don’t understand the urgency of the task? That does have something to do with it.

But mainly it’s because the work is hard, fraught with perils, filled with rejection, and unspeakably vast in scope. And most of us are not willing to do that job. Because it’s work! Recipients of God’s grace ourselves, we none-the-less hear Jesus command, look at the task at hand, and say “Thanks, but no thanks.”

I saw a Family Circus cartoon once in which the various kids are present at the scene of the usual household crimes—broken vase, stolen cookies, crayon on the wall. In each case they are asked, “Who did this?” To which the answer is, “Not me.” The last frame shows a ghostly character tracking mud onto the carpet. His name? Not Me. Now, I don’t think there’s a “Not Me” in the church these days. But I’m quite certain there’s a “Someone Else” who’s actually running the place. Because the reply to the call to ministry also includes the rationalization, “Someone Else will do it.”

Well, people, I’m here to tell you today—Someone Else has left the building. So we need to pray that the Lord of the harvest might send out more workers. But wait! Who in their right mind would want a job like that? One in which the wolves circle around you waiting for a moment of weakness, and people snub you, and avoid you. One that annoyingly is administered by a God whose grace is superabundant and whose patience is eternal. As far as jobs go, it’s not on the top of the most desirable list. Who in their right mind would do it?

You would. Because you’re not in your “right mind.” You have received the grace of God and your mind is not “right” according to worldly standards anymore. St. Paul wrote, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” In other words—what seems ludicrous to the world makes sense to those who have been transformed. And so with renewed minds, we can enter into the harvest joyfully!

Joyfully. Author and minister Thomas Bandy writes that lay leadership "burnout" is not a biblical church issue. It is a modern church issue. It has become an issue because modern churches habitually motivate people to act out of duty, rather than out of

joy. They continually remind people of their obligations, but fail to assist people in affirming themselves [Christian Chaos pp. 239, 241].

So, surprise! This isn’t a guilt trip sermon. This is a “find your joy” sermon. The seventy didn’t come back from the wolf-ridden, peace-snubbing mission trip all stressed out and ready to quit. No, they came back pumped! They said, “Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us! That was way COOL!” They’re excited! They’re joyful. And they don’t let a little foot-dust-shaking get them down ‘cause they like squash and want everyone else to taste it too!

The long and short of it is this: what are you passionate about? Is it music? Is it peace? Is it ecumenical relationships? Is it sewing? Is it organizing? Is it stewardship? Is it the environment? Find your passion—that’s easy, it should come to mind right away. Then think of ways that passion might intersect the work of the harvest—bringing God’s gospel of grace through Christ to people who need it. If you’re passionate about justice issues, you might be an advocate for people who have been treated unjustly. That brings the kingdom near. If your passion is teaching—you can sign up to be a Sunday School teacher in the fall—with the double benefit being that you can choose to teach in an area that gives you joy; like music or art or cooking even. If your passion is social service—then listen to Becky Vinson of LSSNE later on as she talks about the ways we share the harvest with others. She’ll help point you in the right direction.

Now there’s two things you can do with this information. One, you could nod your head and then do nothing. Or two, you can get up from here, have a piece of zucchini bread, and find your joy in this church. If most of you choose the former, things won’t change much around here. Messiah already does a good bit of mission and ministry. But some of our key leaders are soon to leave town, or have felt that their joy might be complete if they tried something new. That’s left some gaps. So I hope that you take what you’ve heard this morning and put it into action. If at least some of you do so, those gaps will be filled easily. If more of you do so, we’ll be able to reach more people in this community with the grace of God. And if a good bunch of you decide to joyfully enter into the harvest despite the risks and hardships, then, brothers and sisters—I will be as busy as a salesman in a centipede shoe store. But—you know what? That’s okay, because that’s my joy!

Okay, now we can pray for workers to be sent.

Lord of the harvest, we have tasted the goodness of your abundance at your table and font. Send us now, into that harvest and into the world with news of your grace for all. Help us to find the intersection of your mission and our passions, that we might serve you whole-heartedly and with joy! In christ’s name we pray. Amen