Monday, June 9, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 9:35-37

Jesus made a tour through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing all kinds of disease and all kinds of illness. And when he saw the crowds he felt sorry for them because they were harassed and dejected, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, 'The harvest is rich but the laborers are few, so ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers to his harvest.'

Prayer

I have seen the harvest, Jesus. Many times. I have climbed the side of grain boxes heaped with wheat and corn. I have dug my hands deep into the grain and pulled them out, kernels running between my fingers. Then I’d do it again for the soul satisfaction of touching earth’s goodness.

In early summer, I’ve stacked bales of fresh hay on the wagon as the rhythmic hump of the baler pushed them from its bowels. We went back and forth across the field under a scorching sky, careful to bale up all the wind rows lest any be lost. Cows get hungry when the grass lies dead and buried under mid-winter snows.

So I’d pound my hands on the bales of sweet alfalfa and clover, stack them high and smile with pleasure at the honey scent in my senses and the joy of being about the business of life.

So I wonder, Jesus, what did you see and sense as you looked at the harvest, the wheat not yet cut, grain still standing in the fields?

I have an inkling. It’s not unique. It’s the same sighing as any human soul who has ever put seed into the ground: “Don’t let it be lost. Let it not be wasted. Let it come to life and grow and yield its fullness. And let me taste and know the goodness of what has been planted.”

It’s a farmer’s prayer, I suppose. I come by it naturally. After all these years of city streets, it remains indelible in my soul. And it tells me my purpose and yours. Your heart is moved by the sweet scent of the harvest. So may we labor with joy to gather the rich yield of human souls, ours and all you love lest any be lost.

Pr. David L. Miller