But being called as a disciple is just the beginning.  A disciple is literally a learner, one who practices.  A discipline is a practice.  As disciples, we follow – a way of life, or a teacher.  So being called as a disciple is being called to learn and grow.  Some people don’t want to learn and grow.  Probably there are times for each of us where we don’t want to learn and grow.  We want to sit on the couch and watch TV, or play music, or take a nap.  Being a disciple is a choice that we make every day.

          The Gospel story didn’t end with Jesus calling disciples, and our life together doesn’t end there.  Luke says that after Jesus got a large crowd following him, he called seventy of them to become apostles.  That may surprise you.  Aren’t there only twelve apostles?  Well, no.  The word apostle means one who is sent.  The Greek word for sending is apostello, and that’s what Jesus did with these seventy others.  He sent them.  He made them apostles. 

The “big twelve” are just the tip of the iceberg, the ones whose names we remember.  Seventy others went out in that wave.  They didn’t go to seminary.  They didn’t present credentials.  They were chosen, and they were sent.

          When Jesus sent them out, he gave them instructions. 

He had them go in pairs.  He told them to be careful, that they were like lambs among wolves, but he didn’t want them to protect themselves.  Instead, they went out in total trust and dependence. 

No money, no provisions, no shoes on their feet.  Nothing that could tempt them to rely on themselves or isolate from their intended audience. 

They weren’t even allowed to greet people, because stopping to hang out with your friends can distract you from the hard work. 

When they got somewhere, they were to live in peace and gratitude, receiving hospitality by whatever local customs prevailed.  No snobbery, no moving to a better house when someone invited them.

          In that house, they were to cure the sick and proclaim the kingdom of God.  Well, no wonder they needed the other instructions!  In the face of this command, I would find fifteen other things that needed doing.  I could justify visiting friends, calling that evangelism.  I could walk away and come back full of lies, if I didn’t have company.  I could stay home and be comfortable while I tell people what God has done for me.  But no.  I’m supposed to cure the sick and proclaim the kingdom?  Couldn’t I just organize a parish rummage sale instead?

          No.  When Jesus appoints the seventy, he speaks of the harvest.  If you’ve ever been near a farm in the summer, or even your own little garden, you know about harvest.  Suddenly the zucchini are all ten pounds and two feet long, really overripe.  Suddenly the berries are going bad.  Suddenly we have tomatoes coming out of our ears.  We need to harvest now.

          Luke says that’s what the kingdom is like.  All around us, people are ready to come to God.  We can go out, or we can let them rot.  But the harvest is now. 

          Do you believe that people around you are ready to come to new life in Christ?  Do you believe that this church has a message to those who are not already here?  Do you believe that the new life lives in you and among you, ready to be shared? 

          I suppose that many of us would be uncomfortable with the language of “coming to new life in Christ.”  It sounds so evangelical, so emotional.  But that’s what Jesus was like.  He called these people, and now he calls us, to find and share new life. 

But you can’t share what you don’t have.

          Disciples are filled up in order to be sent out.  Apostles go out and share what they have received.  And if we try to fill up without sharing, eventually, like water in a pond, what we have will go bad.  Rather than living water, we become a stagnant pool.  You can’t keep the good news unless you give it away.

          But just as surely, you can’t give away what you haven’t got.  Apostles need to be disciples.  They need time alone with Jesus, replenishing pools that have run dry.  If being a disciple without being an apostle makes us like stagnant ponds, being an apostle who’s forgotten discipleship makes us empty, dry desert beds.  That’s the road to burnout.

Apostles need to worship together, to pray together, and yes, to just watch TV sometimes.  Most importantly, in order to be apostles, disciples have to continually renew their gratitude for what God has done for them.  But this is not a strategy; this is a natural point of return and renewal.  In and out.  Like breathing.

          The harvest is ready.  Jesus sends out his disciples with urgency.  But what is this harvest?  And how do we know when we’ve been harvesting?

          The seventy returned with joy.  They went out with what they had learned.  As they shared it, they found they had more in them than they had dreamed.  Demons submitted to them!  They worked miracles! 

          This may sound remote from our world, but it’s not.  Today our demons have names like alcoholism, addiction, violence, and despair.  We see those demons in the news every day.  Many of us live with them, in ourselves or in our families.  Demons are real.  But so too is the power of God.  I have seen recovering alcoholics go out to meet a struggling person, to give them the good news that they don’t have to be enslaved anymore.  They come back with joy, because in sharing their own experience they reconnect as disciples.  They are stronger for having gone out.  I’ve sat with people who have faced huge trauma in their lives, who live in the shadow of that trauma, who are enabled to find joy and share that.  When they share, they become stronger.  The demons are real, but so is the power of God.

          Jesus reminds his followers that as great as these victories are, they are not the gauge by which their lives are to be measured. 

We need to share, we need to rejoice, we need to widen the circle of hope around us.  But our joy cannot come from our so-called success in recruiting others or raising money or even in helping people find God.  Our joy has to come from finding our names written in heaven – from knowing that we are the beloved children of God. 

If you really know that, if you know it down to your toes, you’ve tapped into the source of all joy.  Now sharing will come of its own, unless you actively stop it.

          Here’s a challenge for the summer.  Many of you are serving on vestry or council or on a committee or in some other capacity for this church.  You may be doing that out of a sense of obligation or duty, or even fear of what will happen if you stop.  But it you aren’t doing it from joy and with joy, it might not be what God is calling you to do right now.  So, at the risk of a rash of defections, let me challenge you to spend some time asking yourself how you feel about your ministry to the church, and also about what would give you life.  Is there a project that you’ve put aside to serve on a church board?  Maybe you have a great outreach idea, but you don’t know how to start or what to give up.  Maybe you want to feed people, but you don’t feel authorized or empowered.  Maybe you want to start a knitting group, or a prayer breakfast, or a fundraiser.  Maybe you want to serve in a way that you’ve never tried before. 

          Ask yourself, what do I want to do?  How does God want to work through me?  What might I give up to make that happen?  What is not giving me life, but draining me?  And come talk to me.  A dream that is not shared becomes a dream that dies.

          There’s so much energy and talent among you.  God works among us by means of our energy and talent and joy.  Sometimes the work is hard, and challenging, but if it’s God’s work it’s likely to use our best and to bring us joy.  We are God’s beloved children, and that is very good news.  Go out!  The harvest is plentiful.  Get ‘em while they’re ripe.