Two weeks ago, Gabrielle and I attended the Pacific Mountain Regional Council Gathering in Kamloops. Hundreds of people gathered in person and online for worship, business sessions, and fellowship. The theme of the gathering was The Shape of Hope.

Throughout the gathering we talked honestly about the realities facing our church today. Many congregations are smaller than they once were. Fewer people are participating in church life. Some churches are closing, and many leaders feel tired and uncertain about the future. Yet amid those conversations there was also hope.

I returned to Vancouver on Saturday and was not there for the final day, but I know well how the ordination and commissioning service that took place on Sunday would have unfolded. I still remember my own ordination in 2018 in Penticton. I remember kneeling before the people gathered while the statement of ministry was read. I remember the prayers, the laying on of hands, the photographs, the gifts, and the words of encouragement. It was a joyful and humbling moment, marking the end of years of study and preparation.

Looking back, however, I realize that ordination was not really about receiving recognition. It was about being sent. Beneath all the celebration was a simple message: Go. Go and proclaim the gospel. Go and care for God’s people. Go and serve your community. Go and love the world God loves.

That same message lies at the heart of today’s Gospel reading. Matthew tells us that Jesus went through all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, and curing every disease and every sickness. Then Jesus looked upon the crowds and saw something that others did not see. He saw people who were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

What strikes me most is not simply what Jesus did but how Jesus saw. Many people looked at those crowds every day. Religious leaders saw them. Political leaders saw them. Merchants saw them. Neighbours saw them. Yet Jesus saw them differently. He looked beyond appearances and saw their burdens. He saw their fears and disappointments. He saw people who had been neglected, overlooked, and pushed aside. Most importantly, he saw people whose lives mattered deeply to God.

Before Jesus teaches, heals, or sends anyone, he sees. Compassion begins with seeing. Perhaps that is one of the greatest challenges facing the church today. Think of how easily we can walk past someone and never really see them – the person sitting alone at the back of the sanctuary, the newcomer who slips out before coffee hour, the neighbour who has stopped returning calls. We may look, but we do not always see. We file people into familiar categories before we ever hear their story. We decide, sometimes without realizing it, who belongs and who does not.

Jesus sees something deeper. He sees beloved children of God. The mission of the church begins when we learn to see through Jesus’ eyes.

When Jesus sees the crowds, he tells the disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few.” Then he tells them to pray for labourers to be sent into the harvest. Immediately after saying this, Jesus makes the disciples the answer to their own prayer. He calls them, gives them authority, and sends them out.

So far, this seems straightforward. If there is work to be done, more workers are needed. But then Jesus gives them instructions that stop us in our tracks.

Take no gold. Take no silver. Take no copper.

Take no bag for your journey. Take no extra clothing. No sandal. No walking stick.

Why would Jesus do that? If we were sending people on an important mission, we would probably do the opposite. We would make sure they had enough money, enough supplies, and enough preparation. We would want them to feel secure and ready. Yet Jesus sends the disciples out with almost nothing.

For many years I struggled to understand this part of the Gospel. Why would Jesus give the disciples all the authority to heal the sick, cast out demons, and proclaim the kingdom, yet do not give them what appears to be necessary for success?

Perhaps the answer lies in what Jesus wanted them to learn something about the nature ministry itself.

The preacher and theologian Barbara Brown Taylor shares a story a friend told her about a Buddhist custom in Cambodia. For a full year, seekers travel from village to village “wearing nothing but a saffron robe and owning nothing but a begging bowl, asking perfect strangers to supply their most basic needs.” By the end of that year, they discover something important. They are not self-sufficient. They learn humility. They learn trust. They learn that receiving can be as important as giving.

I understand something of what that feels like. For my internship, a two-point charge in Alberta called me. I quickly rented out my apartment, sold nearly everything I owned, and packed what remained — a few pots, some books, a computer, my clothing — into the trunk of my car and drove to a farming town far from anything familiar. I had arranged to borrow a bed from a congregant. That was all I had.

When the church people saw how I had arrived, they responded. A sofa appeared. A desk, a chair, and bookshelves. A dining table. Drawers. The welcome team stocked my fridge with enough food to last a few days. People I had only just met furnished my life out of nothing but generosity. I had gone there to serve them. But before I could give anything, I had to receive. And in receiving, I began to understand what ministry actually is. It is not a transaction. It is a relationship.

I wonder if Jesus wanted the disciples to learn something similar. Jesus did not send them out as powerful experts who had all the answers. He sent them out as vulnerable companions who would have to depend on God and on the kindness of others. When they arrived in a village, they would need food. They would need shelter. They would need welcome. They would need friendship. In other words, they would discover that ministry is not a one-way transaction. It is a relationship.

Too often we imagine mission as something we do for others. We think that we have resources and they have needs. We think that we have answers and they have questions. We think that we are the givers and they are the receivers.

Jesus challenges that understanding. The disciples are sent not only to give but also to receive. They are sent to discover God’s grace already present in places they have never visited before. They are sent to build relationships rather than simply complete tasks. They are sent to learn that God’s work is already happening before they arrive. Their vulnerability became part of their ministry.

This Gospel speaks directly to our situation today.

At the Regional Gathering, we spent time discussing Toward 2035 (T2035), a vision for the future of The United Church of Canada. We talked about leadership, justice, invitation, and growth. We talked about challenges and opportunities. Beneath all those conversations was a deeper question: What will sustain the church in the years ahead? Many people assume the answer is more resources, more programs, more money, or more buildings. Yet today’s Gospel points us in a different direction. Jesus does not send the disciples because they possess everything they need. He sends them because God already does. The disciples’ confidence is not rooted in what they carry but in the One who sends them.

That is a difficult lesson for us because we are tempted to focus on what we lack. We worry about declining numbers, aging congregations, financial pressures, and an uncertain future. Those concerns are real and should not be ignored.

Yet Jesus never tells the disciples to place their trust in numbers, money, or security. Instead, he invites them to trust that God is already at work in the world. The harvest belongs to God before it belongs to the labourers. The mission belongs to God before it belongs to the church. The future belongs to God before it belongs to us.

Every Sunday at the end of worship we hear words of commissioning. We are told to go into the world in peace, to love and serve God and our neighbour. Those words are not simply a way of ending the service. They are a sending.

Like the first disciples, we leave this place and enter God’s mission field. Some of us are sent into workplaces. Some into families. Some into neighbourhoods. Some into places where people are lonely, grieving, anxious, or searching for hope. The challenge of this Gospel is not only whether we are willing to go. The deeper challenge is where we are willing to see.

Can we see people through Jesus’ eyes? Can we see beyond labels and quick judgments? Can we see the lonely, the excluded, the grieving, and the overlooked? Can we see signs of God’s grace already present in our community, already at work before we arrive?

When we learn to see through Jesus’ eyes, we begin to understand our mission. We are called to bring healing where there is hurt, welcome where there is exclusion, and hope where there is despair. We do this not because we possess everything that is needed, but because we trust the One who sends us.

May God give us eyes to see as Jesus sees, hearts to love as Jesus loves, and courage to go wherever Christ sends us.

Amen.