Sermon - The labourers are few - but the harvest is plentiful!

Harvest Threshing, Albert Gleizes, 1912

A sermon preached during the Choral Eucharist at St George’s Bloomsbury on Sunday 3rd July 2022 (Third Sunday after Trinity, Year C) based on the reading from Luke 10.1-11, 16-20.

I have what’s called a ‘portfolio career’. One of the companies I’m involved in specialises in political PR. We employ consultants from all the main political parties, most of whom are recovering from the recent local elections.

Speaking to them recently, it struck me that election time for political activists is like harvest time for farmers. A season of frenetic activity as the clock counts down to polling day, when the fruits of months of work will – or will not – be realised. Even in the safest of seats, there is aways some uncertainty about the outcome, until the very last minute. And just like harvest time, turnout on election day is always subject to the vagaries of the weather.

These days, a significant proportion of campaign spending is directed to professionally produced video clips for social media, targeted text messaging and phone calls from call centres – pushing the party brand, a key personality or policy initiative. We obsess about its “reach” and long term effects. But research consistently shows that personal one-to-one contact, through canvassing, still has the most profound effect on a voter’s likelihood to go to the polls. Ordinary people going out in pairs or small groups, visiting the homes of their neighbours to pave the way for their candidate on the road to City Hall or the House of Commons.

The proposition is simple. Canvassers set off with nothing more than a copy of the electoral roll and visit each house in turn. There are no clever speeches or attempts to coax or cajole; canvassers simply introduce themselves, engage in conversation and ask whether their candidate can count on their neighbours’ support on polling day. 

Their response is recorded on a clipboard (or more likely an i-pad these days). Those who express strong or tentative support will be contacted again, with leaflets and letters as polling day approaches. Those who express strong opposition will not be contacted again. In this way, volunteers maximise the chances of mobilising support at the ballot box.

Canvassing can be uncomfortable. Particularly at times when your party is not in vogue, when it can feel as though you’re like a lamb being sent into the midst of wolves! In a particularly difficult period, I remember hearing of someone who slammed their front door so hard when they saw the colour of the rosette that the canvasser was wearing, that the glass porch shattered! On another occasion, a pair of canvassers knocked on a door just in time to help deliver a baby. I don’t think the mother really minded what the colour of their rosettes was!

Most of the time however, canvassing is not quite so dramatic. As you go from home to home you encounter the whole gamut of community life. Hilarious coincidences – Mr & Mrs Legg living next to Mr & Mrs Foot; children sent to the door to explain “my dad has told me to tell you he’s not in”. More and less ferocious guard dogs. People in the middle of gardening, rolling out pastry or about to have a bath. The task of the canvasser is to be polite and generous; feeding on whatever is set before them to engage in conversation. They are not armed with carefully crafted speeches or highly polished set-piece show-stoppers, but they believe in their candidate and can be genuine in conversation – be themselves.

No matter what our view of their party allegiance, we can admire the dedication of these small bands of volunteers who tread the streets at election time, for a cause they believe in.  

Measuring the success of canvassing is difficult. While people may express their voting intention on the doorstep, we never know if this is realised on polling day. But research has shown that votes are more likely to cast in areas where door-to-door canvassing has taken place. Personal, one-to-one contact, is powerful.

Political parties overlook this low-tech, cheap and simple method of campaigning at their peril.

In our gospel reading, Jesus sends out seventy of his followers to go ahead of him as he journeys towards Jerusalem. His disciples pave the way; finding supporters, speaking to them face to face in their own homes. Like the canvassers at election time, the work of the disciples is set in a context of urgency; there is no time to speak to people passing by on the road; or to hang around and try to coax or cajole those who reject the gospel into believing. The language is one of harvest time; the backdrop is Jesus’ journey to the cross; and his coming again in glory.

The gospel reminds us that our mission as disciples is to follow Jesus; to tend to the sick and those in need; to proclaim the coming of the kingdom of God; the time of the plentiful harvest. It’s a mission that we cannot fulfil on our own; so we are sent with others. In pairs or small groups. And while our mission is to follow Jesus we – and this may come as a shock to some Christians I’ve met – we are not Jesus! We cannot heal everyone. We cannot make every knee bow, or every tongue confess his Name. Sometimes our efforts will be rebuked; doors slammed in our face; glass porches shattered. We will need to move on, to change tack – to allow those who follow us to try again. On other occasions we will be in the right place at the right time, able to help make a difference; to see people born to new life in faith. Jesus cautions us not to measure our success by these apparent victories; but to trust that we are making a difference in every moment as we faithfully participate in God’s plan for us and for his creation.

The Mission of the Seventy seems to be an antithesis to committees, strategic reviews, infographics, timetables, project programmes and agendas for mission. It offers a baggage-free approach to discipleship. Simple, practical, authentic growth through one-to-one encounters and conversations; sharing meals, supporting those in need. Living the gospel and being open to change. Being fed by the Word, led by the Spirit and trusting in God that his will shall be done, in his own time.

The church overlooks this low-tech, practical and simple approach to mission at its peril.

It’s an approach that we can all participate in but - as some seem to delight in reminding us - fewer and fewer appear to do. 

This can be a cause for anxiety when we consider that the urgency which drove the seventy is no less diminished today. The environmental crisis. War in Europe and around the world. Human trafficking, Modern Day Slavery, the inequalities in our community that became unburied during the months of lockdown; financial uncertainties – how can we afford to keep going?

Jesus knows that we will never be satisfied by numbers or short-term measures of success. To focus on the number of labourers or the scale of the task facing us is to turn away from the gospel we proclaim. Turn away from the vision of the kingdom we seek; where the mighty are put down and the humble and meek exalted.

Yes the labourers are few. But the harvest is plentiful. Unlike election time, there is no uncertainty about the outcome. So let us rejoice that our names have been written in heaven by the one who has secured the ultimate victory. 

And may the taste of which, in this sacrament, strengthen us as we are sent out once more, to tell our neighbours that the fruits of the coming harvest have their names on too. 

Amen. 


Image : Harvest Threshing, Albert Gleizes, 1912