A Sermon given on the 20th Sunday after Pentecost

My brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown… 

For the past few weeks, we’ve been slowly reading our way through Paul’s Letter to the Philippians.  And, while I have often noticed how beautiful the theology is, I also kinda felt like…there’s the Apostle Paul being Paul again:  being a little dramatic, using way too many words,  and going on and on about himself, blah blah blah. 

— 

But this week’s passage felt different. 

The first thing I noticed about it, is that Paul mentions two women by name: Euodia and Syntyche. Paul refers to these women, along with a man named Clement, as co-workers in the “work of the Gospel.” 

But it’s not all compliments.  It seems that Euodia and Syntyche have had some kind of practical or theological disagreement that was impacting their community.  And Paul is gently reminding them to find common ground and to remember that they are united in the Body of Christ. 

Still, the overall tone is warm and intimate.  These people are his friends.  It is clear here, and throughout the whole letter, that Paul really loves this community. 

The second thing I noticed is the lightness and joy that comes across:  “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice!” 

One commentary suggests that “joy is the principal theme of the letter,”  with some variation on the word joy appearing 16 times in only 4 chapters. 

It’s interesting to note that Paul is in prison while he writes this.  Imagine having all that joy in a prison cell! 

And yet, Paul is joyful,  because, when he looks at the church in Philippi, he sees Christ fully alive and at work in the world. He sees the Kingdom of God being made a reality through the hard and humble work of its people. 

— 

Inspired by the Letter to the Philippians,  I thought about spending my sermon prep time this week writing my own letter.  I was going to call it “A Letter to the Gracians.” 

But I think a parable will serve all of us better. So, without further ado, here’s:  The Parable of the Pumpkin Patch. 

The Kingdom of Heaven is like a pumpkin patch.

On Tuesday evening, a significant number of parishioners, neighbors, and friends showed up in Grace’s front yard to unload pumpkins for our first annual pumpkin patch. 

It is safe to say that we did not know what we were in for. 

When Gail and I schemed up a plan to launch a pumpkin patch fundraiser, we truly did not understand that we were signing up to receive, like, 2,000 pumpkins! We were mostly thinking about how CUTE the front yard would look, scattered with gourds.  I was thinking about the chance to meet and mingle with our neighbors.  And Gail, good treasurer that she is, was thinking about the bottom line. 

But there we were, faced with a literal truckload of pumpkins, with no choice but to get them off the truck. 

The first hour was rough.  

We didn’t have much of a system, and we didn’t know how to organize ourselves.  The people handing down pumpkins from the truck were doing literally back-breaking work.  And there was no end in sight. 

At one point, some of us panicked and tried to come up with a magic alternative. 

What if we waited and did it in the morning?  Mmm, how would that actually solve the problem? 

What if we hired people?  Uh, sort of counterproductive to the point of a fundraiser! 

What if we…had more friends? I quickly texted my local clergy friends with an SOS!  A few others did the same.  

Then we put our phones away and got back to work. 

Faced with collective anxiety about the horrible situation we had landed ourselves in,  we were forced to make a game plan. 

First, we needed to face our individual limitations.  No one should end up in the hospital over a pumpkin patch. 

Next, we needed to work together.  We couldn’t afford to operate as individuals anymore.  We had to be a united, and disciplined, super organism – acting as one Body. 

We started an assembly line – a human chain that extended to the middle of the front yard.  First, a person on the truck would hand a pumpkin to someone on the ground.  That person would hand it over to the person to their left.  Then it would be handed off to the next person, and the next person, until it got to the end of the line,  where it would be gently placed in the grass. 

This process repeated like that until all 1,151 bulk pumpkins were out of the truck. 

As we worked together:  

• People on the sidelines offered encouragement and good humor. 
• The mechanic across the street sprinted over, and helped us move pallets. 
• My friend and her son showed up, and joined the assembly line.  
• Former school parents and neighbors quietly appeared, and took their place in the process. 
• One person, noticing how late it was getting, came back with pizza and drinks for everyone. 
• And, at one point, a complete stranger walked off the sidewalk and offered to help. 

The people on the truck continued in their back-breaking work, and we kept passing pumpkins.  But now there were more of us. 

As the hours wore on, our muscles ached. Our feet hurt from standing.  Our backs would never be the same.  

But for some reason, as time went on,  the laughter increased. The frustration subsided. The assembly line joyfully counted off, as the pumpkins were passed down.  And kids skipped around the growing patch. 

— 

We were burdened by this task of unloading an ungodly number of pumpkins.  And yet, “joy had become the principal theme” of the evening. 

Like Euodia and Syntyche and Clement, and so many others at the church in Philippi, we, at the church of Grace, had become co-workers, struggling beside one another in the work of the church. 

In taking on that work, we were noticing the miracle of helping hands,  showing up just when we needed them. 

We were feasting on slices of pizza, that had appeared like manna in the wilderness. 

We were aching and bruised and tired, and maybe a little annoyed.  But together, we had made something happen that we never could have accomplished by ourselves. 

And we rejoiced, because, we had seen what was possible when we lived into our baptismal response: “We will, with God’s help.” 

We had done it, together, with God’s help. 

— 

Beloved, the world is overcome with hatred, disaster, violence, and death.  

But we can rejoice.  

Because we know what’s possible when the Body of Christ acts like a Body.  When we work together as a super organism, we can accomplish insurmountable tasks.  

We’ve seen it with our own eyes! And if a few dozen people can transform a front yard into a pumpkin patch, just imagine what the whole church can do to transform the world’s ugliness into beauty, and its barrenness into bounty.  

Amen.