11th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A) – June 18, 2023
St. Paul – Lyons, KS
Exodus 19:2-6a; Psalm 100:1-3, 5; Romans 5:6-11; Matthew 9:36-10:8
Few Laborers
What do you think is the most important job in the world? What is the most important? Some people would say it’s the president of the United States. Others would say CEO of some major corporations. Ok, fair enough. But keep thinking: when the pandemic hit, we discovered a lot of the jobs that we overlook. All of a sudden, we realized that our most favorite job is…the people who make toilet paper—we remember the great toilet paper crisis of 2020? We realized how crucial grocery store employees are—everyone involved in food production: farmers, meat packing, truck drivers. When parents became substitute teachers, we recognized in an even more powerful way how important our teachers and schools are. In other words, we discovered that some jobs we often overlook…these are some of the most important. And also, we are all feeling the lingering effects of the pandemic—no one seems to want to work!
I was at a conference last year, and one of the speakers got up—and this guy is uber successful, a consultant for a bunch of Fortune 500 companies, famous airlines, famous tech companies—he gets up, and he asks this question: “What do you think is the most important job in the world?” And he gave a simple answer. He said, “The most important ‘companies’ in the world are each and every parish. The most important job is the pastor of a parish and the people who work with him to accomplish the mission of the parish.”
Why would he say that? Because he knows (just like we’ve been talking about ever since I got here) that “our hearts are restless,” always searching for Christ, for his Church. This guy works every day with some of the most successful businesses and business people in the world! And so he knows better than most: even at the height of success in career and money…these people are still in need of Christ and his Church. And where do people get that? From the Vatican? The pope? The bishops? No. For 99% of people, their experience of Christ and the Church…it’s here, in a parish.
Here, in a parish—this is where people will encounter Christ in the here and now. This people, this rag tag group of people, in this community—together on the road, Christ is encountered here. But do we recognize that? Do we really understand how important the parish and the work of the parish is? If I asked you, “In the whole world, which one is more important: Apple or St. Paul?” would you say St. Paul? Do we understand that our mission in infinitely more important?
“Jesus’ heart was moved with pity”
What we need is a little come to Jesus—well, more like, “see like Jesus” talk. When Jesus looks around at the crowds of people, he doesn’t see the need for more economic security, racial equality, political reform—none of that! Jesus looks around, and he sees in a particular way: “they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.” (We talked a couple of weeks ago, how we follow influencers or people on the news, we entrust our lives to them. But we’re like sheep—kinda dumb, but without a true shepherd. To switch the metaphor, we keep hooking our wagon to the wrong horse. And so what is Jesus’ response? Does he get angry? Does he yell at people for being so stupid? No. “Jesus’ heart was moved with pity”—literally, his stomach turned over (you know that feeling?). Jesus has a very powerful, visceral reaction to this. He is moved, in pain, heartbroken at the situation—he is moved to help!
We need to start seeing that way. I’ve talked before about the “lenses” we see through. We need to put on some Jesus-lenses and see things as he sees them, feel like he feels. How many of you would say that when you look at your friends and neighbors, your heart is moved with pity, that your stomach turns over, that you are in pain for them? Some of you, yeah. But why? Because you wish they had more economic security or something? Or because you wish they had a Good Shepherd, you wish they had a relationship with Jesus Christ?
I shared those numbers with you a few weeks ago: we baptize so many kids—but we don’t see a lot of them again until their First Communion. Less than half of our First Communion kids still go to Mass; less than a third of our Confirmation kids; less than a quarter of our 90 kids in PSR. That doesn’t make me angry, I don’t go yell at people for being stupid or something, no. My heart is moved with pity, it makes my stomach turn. Why? Because there are so many that are so close…but they choose so many things over Christ—and so they choose some fleeting experience over the happiness, and life, and joy—over the rest for their restless heart that Christ so desperately wants to give them.
“The harvest is abundant, but…”
So what does Jesus identify as the issue? What’s the issue? Politics, technology, schools? No. “The harvest is abundant”—there are so many people that are looking for Christ, desperately in need of the gifts that he gives!—“the harvest is abundant but the laborers are few.” The laborers are few. The issue isn’t a lack of people ready to encounter Christ, in need of encountering Christ—no, plenty of sheep without a shepherd, plenty of crops. The laborers are few.
So there’s not enough priests? Sure, we could always use some more priests. Last priest from this parish was Fr. Michael Schemm—only priest from this parish! Almost 100 years, and only one priest. So sure, we need to pray for more priests, priests from our own parish.
But the laborers are more than priests. We talked about this last week. What is the command at the end of Mass? “Go home, have a nice day?” No. “Ite, missa est. Go, she is sent.” She, the Church, you—we are sent.
Lay down your life, and don’t take it up again
Look at our Gospel today. What does Jesus do? He recognizes the need for laborers. So what does he do? He calls them—by name! He empowers them. And then he gives them their mission and sends them out.
I don’t know if you’ve ever been to the ordination of a priest (if not, I would highly recommend it). But at the ordination of a priest, this is exactly what happens. The day I got ordained, this is exactly what happened. The first thing that happens: I am called, by name. As I am sitting there, the deacon doesn’t get up and say, “Anyone who wants to be a priest, come on up,” no. One by one, by name, me and the men ordained with me were called forward. “Michael Gerard Brungardt.” And I responded: “Present.” Then, after a few words, after being asked if we are resolved to take up this call, we lay down on the floor, prostrate ourselves on the floor—a great symbol of what we are doing: laying down our lives, giving our lives over the will, the designs, the purposes of Another. When we stand up, the Bishop then lays hands on us, prays the prayer of ordination over us—he empowers us for this mission. And then, we are clothed with a new garment (our vestments), our hands are anointed with oil for this sacred work, a patten with bread and a chalice with wine are given to us—we are commissioned, sent to do our work.
This is what Jesus does! He calls his disciples, by name! And he describes them as his apostles—in Greek, apostle just means “one who is sent.” The apostles are the ones who are sent. So he calls them, but then they show up! They say, “Present. Here I am. Send me.” Then Jesus “gave them authority,” he empowers them. And then he gives them their mission and sends them out.
This happened to you too! On the day of your baptism, in a particular way on the day of your confirmation, and each and every time you receive the Eucharist. Think of Baptism. What is the first thing? The child is given a name; by name the child is called, you were called. Then, the parents give this child back to God; on the child’s behalf, they say that this child is “present” for the mission. The child is then empowered through baptism—and this is later strengthened by Confirmation and the Eucharist. And then, the child is given a new garment (a white garment), and is anointed with the Sacred Chrism, anointed to share in the mission of the Church. That child, on that day, becomes a member of the “She” that is sent.
What’s the key, though? It’s the laying down your life part. Think back to “Rerouting…”: how many of your made that decision to surrender your life to Christ? How many said, “My life, it’s not about me, not about my plans. Jesus, I give my life to you to use how you want”?
We’re Not Sent to Africa, but To the Lost Sheep
Jesus calls us, each one of us, by name. In response to everything that he has done for us, we lay down our lives, we place our lives in his hands. And he empowers us. He commissions us. He sends us! But where? Where is he sending us? “Do not go into pagan territory or enter a Samaritan town. Go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” The first part of Jesus’ mission is always to the lost. Remember the parable about the lost sheep, and Jesus leaves the 99 in search of that one? Ok, here it’s the same. Jesus sends you, first and foremost, to the sheep that are lost. He sends you to those that have fallen away from his fold, from his Church.
I won’t embarrass him in front of everyone, but one of our parishioners heard what I was saying and decided to go talk to one of his neighbors—a neighbor that had fallen away from the faith for many years. He just invited himself over, and eventually brought up the faith, started the conversation, asked about why they no longer came. And little by little, he brought this person back to the Church. Praise God. He went after one lost sheep.
Do you remember the mission last week? “Invite one back.” Each and every one of us needs to begin praying, asking God, “Lord, to whom are you sending me? Who is the one lost sheep you want me to go to?” Trust me, God is going to place a name on your heart, and it will sit there, burning. And when that happens, pray for the boldness, the courage, the wisdom, and the humility to go. “The harvest is abundant, but the laborers are few…”
Another way is to get more involved in the ministry of the parish. We are very used to how things run, we get complacent. But I can’t tell you how important the ministries around the parish are: lectors, musicians, ushers, greeters—these are some of the most important ministries. But also teachers for our kids—we are currently very short on teachers. People have told me how excited they are about me working with the youth—but I can’t do that alone: like I’ve said, something as simple as bringing snacks for the lake goes a long way, or going as a chaperone. One that we have started working on is childcare: so many young parents don’t go to things because of their young children, so we are really starting to ramp up the childcare we offer. I can go on and on.
But the point is this: “The harvest is abundant, but the laborers are few.” Everything we do at this parish is about the mission of offering every person in our community a life-changing encounter with Christ. But I can’t do that alone—it’s the bottleneck effect: I can literally only do so much. A few of us can’t do that alone. It’s all hands on deck. It takes each one of us saying, “Present. Here I am. Send me.” It’s not just about trying to maintain the building, or make sure than readings are read at Mass, or having warm bodies in certain positions. It’s about each one of us seeing our community in the same way Jesus sees it, it’s about each one of us responding to the call, to laying our lives down in service of the Lord, being empowered by him, and being sent out. The Lord is calling you. Will you respond?