Meditation 

Sermon          Lectionary 11          Year A Worship       June 14h, 2026

Good morning!   Welcome to the third Sunday of Pentecost!

The Gospel reading for the third Sunday after Pentecost presents a pivotal moment in Jesus’s ministry, the moment when his work empowers his followers to expand his ministry.  As he moves through towns and villages, teaching and healing, he is moved with compassion for the crowds—people who are “harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd” (9:36).  This moment leads to the commissioning of the Twelve, sending them out to extend his mission.

These verses capture the heart of discipleship: responding to the needs of the people, relying on God’s provision, and carrying forth the work of healing and restoration.  To do this, Jesus’s disciples need to imitate their Lord.  This passage challenges us to see discipleship not as passive belief, but as active participation in the work of restoration.

Jesus’s ministry, as described in Matthew 9:35, is wide and deep.  He teaches in synagogues, proclaims the good news of the kingdom, and heals every disease and affliction.  His compassion for the people is not abstract; it moves him to action.  He sees their suffering, their lost-ness, and recognizes their need for leadership and care.

Depending on our church traditions and where we live, gospel work that focuses on healing and justice can be suspect, seen as “social justice” disconnected from the proclamation of the good news.  Similarly, some ministries focus their work entirely on the teaching and proclamation of the gospel with very little thought toward justice and healing. Jesus shows us that the work of the compassionate shepherd is wide and deep; the preaching the gospel is never separated from the wider work of the gospel to bring healing and wholeness.

Back to Matthew’s telling of the story.  He describes a crisis of leadership.  The people Israel are like sheep without a shepherd.  But the Jewish religious leaders of the day were supposed to be the shepherds of the people.  The people of Jesus’s day were oppressed, downtrodden, beat-up, and crushed.  The historical and literary records point to Rome and the religious elite as those who inflicted social, economic, political, and religious abuse with their misrule.  This vacuum of leadership, this evil rule, is what Jesus and his disciples step into.  What is needed is new leadership for a renewed community.

I can’t help but see the brilliance of what it meant when Jesus modeled leadership.  In many native cultures, leadership isn’t about hierarchy (who am I in charge of?) but about service (who can I help?).  A true leader is one who cares for the people, ensuring their well-being.  Much like a native Medicine Man or Wisdom Keeper, Jesus responds to the needs of the people, embodying leadership that is deeply relational, born in compassion.

Jesus’s statement about the harvest being plentiful but the laborers being few (9:37–38) speaks to a deep spiritual and communal reality.  The needs are great, but there are not enough workers to meet the needs.  This is not merely about numerical scarcity; it is about the willingness of people to step into the work of the kingdom.  Jesus calls his disciples to pray that God will send out laborers—an act of faith that acknowledges both the magnitude of the task, and the need for divine provision.

Immediately after this charge to pray, Jesus commissions the Twelve to this work.  This means that the request for prayer was as much about seeking God’s will, as it was preparing their own hearts and minds for the reality that they will be a part of the answer to their own prayer.  Sometimes our prayers are an urgent petition for God to do what only God can do in the world.  Other times, prayer is aligning our hearts with God’s will for us to do what God asks of us.

Matthew 10:1–8 describes Jesus’s commissioning of the Twelve. He gives them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal every disease and affliction. Their mission is not self-directed; they are sent specifically to the lost sheep of Israel, to proclaim that the kingdom of heaven has come near, and to enact this reality through healing and restoration. Their work is not for personal gain, but for the restoration of balance and well-being among Israel.

The Jewish renewal movement begun by John the Baptizer now extends into the work of Jesus’s disciples, as they are sent out and told to focus in the first instance on Israel, as God chose Abraham and his descendants to receive his blessing, and for them in turn to be a blessing to the nations (Genesis 12:1–3).  Yet even with the charge to avoid Gentiles and Samaritans (Matthew 10:5–6), the disciples will still be a witness to Gentiles (Matthew 10:18), and the context of his directive is already set within a narrative opening that highlights righteous Gentiles in the genealogy, the magi of the birth narrative, and the faith of the Roman centurion.

Within this narrative setting, and with the framework of Jesus as Medicine Man, Jesus’s directive to go only to Israel is because it is Israel who is in need of medicine (see Matthew 9:12) and strength to live into their divine role.

The disciples’ mission is deeply restorative.  They are sent to heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those with leprosy, and drive out demons (10:8).  This is not just about physical healing, but about restoring people to wholeness—socially, spiritually, and physically. Jesus’s commissioning of the Twelve challenges modern disciples to see faith as active participation in God’s integral mission.  The work of healing, restoration, and justice is not confined to Jesus alone; it is entrusted to his followers.

Bishop Gohl just sent out his weekly message, and I find it right-on, so I’ll quote from it:

In the perilous and partisan times of our beloved communities, Christ is our courage and our hope. In the face of unfathomable change, Christ is our courage and our hope. When our neighbors live in fear and unconscionable loss, Christ is our courage and our hope. When the love and personhood of our siblings becomes subject to diminishment or erasure, Christ is our courage and our hope.

When the Lord speaks those immortal words, Be strong and courageous; do not be frightened or dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go;  we picture a brave leader standing firm in the face of danger. We imagine God telling the community to dig deep, believe in themselves, and summon strength to overcome whatever lies ahead.

But it’s not about the leader, it’s about God.  And similarly, for the church, it’s not about us, it’s about Jesus Christ and God's love for our neighbor and each one of us, too.

Take for example Joshua, standing at a turning point in history.  Moses is dead.  The people are preparing to enter the Promised Land.  Joshua has been given tremendous responsibilities: lead a nation; face enemies; carry on the work of Moses, one of the greatest servants of God.  Ever.  If anyone had reason to be afraid, it was Joshua.

And God does not comfort him by saying, "You're capable." God does not say, "Trust your instincts." God does not say, "Believe in yourself." Instead, God says: "I am with you."  The source of Joshua's courage is not Joshua. The source of Joshua's courage is the Lord.  

That is an important distinction for us, too.  We often feel overwhelmed by the challenges before us.  We face uncertainty, the unholy-trinity of sin, death, and the devil manifesting as financial pressures, broken relationships, illness, grief, and the reality of our own weakness.  We know what it is like to feel afraid.

Sometimes we hear words like "Be strong and courageous" and immediately feel guilty. We think, "I'm not strong enough. I'm not courageous enough. I still worry. I still doubt."  But notice where God's command is grounded.  Joshua is not told to manufacture courage from within.  He is given a promise: "The Lord your God is with you wherever you go."

Joshua knew God's presence through God’s promises to Israel.  We know God, we find our courage, and hope in Jesus Christ.

True courage does not come from within ourselves or our own strength.  It comes from trusting in the promises and presence of God.  For us, Jesus Christ is the embodiment of a promise made and God’s promise kept.  In Christ, God did not merely send help from heaven.  At the cross, Jesus opened his arms to embrace us and this world God still so loves.  That is why we can face perilous days and an uncertain future with confidence. I remember my grandma, who had many little encouraging words, said it like this: “It’s not because we know what tomorrow holds, but because we know who holds tomorrow.”

God does not promise Joshua an easy way.  There are very real battles that still await, in the courts and in the public square, in the hearts of our friends, family, and neighbors.  Big challenges are still ever before us.  Yet, our theme verse from Joshua is not merely a call to courage; it is a declaration of our faith in God’s presence and promise. It is not about finding enough strength within ourselves. It is about trusting God and God’s promise of a new way, a new hope, and new life in Jesus.

Therefore, dear ones, be strong and courageous—not because you and I are especially strong, but because Christ is.  Not because your faith or mine is perfect, but because God’s promises are sure.  Not because the future is certain, but because Jesus is.

Christ, be our courage.  Christ is our hope.

So may it be for all of us.  God loves you, and so do I.  AMEN