In our beautiful church, we have this image of Jesus looking at us, with his abnormally large hands and feet. And I know I’m not alone when I say that this image of Jesus has changed me. Each week, I’m reminded that it’s not just Jesus who heals and loves and cares and preaches, it also must be me. It’s not just Jesus who loves the sick and the poor and gives freely of resources, it’s us. It’s not just Jesus who is called to love God and neighbor, it’s us.  

Christ has no body now but yours…

I don’t want to judge. But I wonder. If we understood what it means to steward something, what it means to hold it in trust, and I mean we as a culture, we as a society, we as a church, what might we do differently? 

To steward something means to love it. It means to hold it. It means to do the best for it, to love that vineyard, to know that it doesn’t belong to us, to hold it loosely without grasping it too tightly, to care for it as the gift that it is. 

As a steward, we’ve got to think, not just about our time and place, but about future, about one another, about what is good not only for us, but as our Indigenous siblings say, about the next seven generations. 

We have been given so much, so many gifts, so much to steward, to care for, to love. What a gift it is! 

Image: Cupped Hands by Jui Ferreyra

“A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ He answered, ‘I will not’; but later he changed his mind and went. The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, ‘I go, sir’; but he did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father?” Matthew 21:23-32

The one who is righteous says no. The one who is righteous changes their mind. And then the final coup: The ones who cooperate with the enemy and the ones who get paid for sex work, they’re the righteous ones. They’re the ones who see the good gifts, hear the good word and participate. God gives us the vision to say ‘no’ when it’s right, to change our minds when we’re wrong, and to glimpse every now and again, the beautiful kin-dom of God unfolding among us.  

God does this forgiving thing and this healing thing so much better than us. God shows us how to do it, how to let it go, how to turn it lose, how to be whole, how to increase our muscles of forgiveness, so that before you know it, you’re not just forgiving your neighbor who neither shovels their snowy sidewalk nor recycles, you’re forgiving that one who really wished you harm back in the day and on whose head you’ve wished the retribution of God more than once. And suddenly, you don’t feel that anymore.

Where two or three are gathered…It reminds us that we are more together than we are alone. It’s easier to be Christian when we’re doing it in community, especially the difficult parts like long-term faithfulness, discernment, confrontation, and forgiving. Christianity thrives on community, in relationships, when the webs of connection between us continue to grow, as we do this work together in the name of Jesus. 

Image: “Prayer Circle” by Deborah Shedrick

This is the way of God, the strange logic of the king of the universe, the one that goes against everything that makes sense if we’re looking with eyes of this world. The first shall be last. The meek will inherit the earth. The proud are scattered in the imagination of their hearts. And loss, if you participate in it, letting the light of God shine on it, weeping, mourning, and refusing to pretend that everything is ok, leaning on your community and even accepting help sometimes, that loss turns into great strength.

God does the work in us that needs to get done: He steps in and teaches us, frees us, loves us, holds us, walks with us, and somehow, beautifully, we change. God is the one who makes us one body, one ecosystem, through the Eucharist, through fellowship, through vulnerabilities, through God’s work happening through us and in us so that we become the people, the community, the ekklesia that we’re called to be. It’s a beautiful place, natural, organic, with diversity and beauty and bugs and amphibians and ponds and even beavers. 

God speaks to us with empathy and understanding, with gentleness and compassion, especially those who struggle. 

Do you hear it? This is God’s love song to people. 

It’s easy to pay more attention to what’s collapsing than what’s growing, to see the weeds first and to lament them. But remember. You’re not alone, nor am I. Our job is to grow, not to sort out the wheat and the weeds. We might not see the effect of our work in this lifetime, but that doesn’t mean we should give up the work! We can hold fast to the truth that God is God and we are not and that our job is to grow. 

I think we’re all called to be farmers, sowers, all of us, throwing seeds all the time, our deeds of love in the world. So keep on. Keep on being ridiculously excessive. Love, even when you know it might be rejected. Give more than is necessary, without expecting to get anything back. We’re not playing the game of chess here. We have been given so much, so much goodness, so much love, so much beauty. It’s on us to pass it on. We never know what will grow.