Sunday, July 6 – Galatians 6:[1-6] 7-16, Luke 10:1-11, 16-20
One of my first jobs after college was in sales. I worked for a company that sold Brittannica reading skills programs for young children and sets of the Compton’s Encyclopedia. It wasn’t easy and for my first six months, I couldn’t sell a thing.
Someone gave me a cassette tape (yes, I’m dating myself), of Zig Ziglar teaching about sales. His focus was on the fact that sales is a numbers game. That you can’t get hobbled by one rejection, but how you have to keep moving and talking to more people in order to reach the few who will say yes.
He used the biblical stories of the disciples of Jesus shaking the dust off their feet in the towns that rejected their message to make the point that we should just pick ourselves up after a setback and keep going. That lesson has always stuck with me, even though I’ve struggled to live it out. Rejection has been a difficult burden for me to bear, and it’s motivated my journey to seek the kingdom where we are all loved and held in the embrace of our God.
It’s taken me a lifetime to even begin to understand that God’s kingdom of Love was not something for which I had to search at all.
Our readings today from Galatians and Luke invite us to reflect deeply on what it means that the kingdom of God has come near—not as a distant possibility, not as a future hope waiting on the horizon, but as a living reality in which we stand, right here and right now.
Let’s begin in Galatians. Paul urges the community: “Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” He’s not talking about a solitary religion, a faith we carry out behind closed doors, but a vibrant, living network of grace where each person is supported, forgiven, and upheld. Paul reminds us that we are to “work for the good of all,” to not “grow weary in doing what is right,” and to “not be deceived; God is not mocked, for you reap whatever you sow.” These are not just rules for a future heaven—they are guidelines for living in the kingdom, today.
Now, let’s turn to Luke 10. Here, Jesus gathers seventy-two followers—not just the twelve disciples, but a great company—and sends them out in pairs to every town and nearby places. He gives them simple instructions: don’t pack a bag, don’t bring extra sandals, and don’t even greet people on the road. Rely on the hospitality of others. When you enter a house, say, “Peace to this house!” Accept what is offered. Heal the sick and announce: “The kingdom of God has come near to you.”
Notice what Jesus doesn’t say. He doesn’t say, “Wait until I’ve been crucified, then preach the gospel.” He doesn’t say, “The kingdom will come after I am raised from the dead.” No, the kingdom is already here, already coming near, already erupting in ordinary lives, in acts of hospitality, in healing, in peace, in the sharing of burdens.
Sometimes in our tradition, we imagine that the good news only became real, only became true, after the resurrection. We treat Jesus’ death and rising as a kind of cosmic switch that suddenly turned on the kingdom.
But the truth is, as Luke reveals, the kingdom was coming near in Jesus’ ministry and teaching, in his sending, in his healing and loving, long before the cross. The resurrection didn’t make the good news true; it revealed to us just how deep and enduring that good news really is.
The kingdom was, and is, and always will be near—God’s reality breaking into ours, in every act of love, justice, mercy, and reconciliation.
Let’s think about what that means for us. If the kingdom is near, if the work of Christ is already present in our world, then our calling is not to sit and wait but to go and do! Jesus sends the seventy-two as ambassadors, as bearers of peace and healing, as people who travel light, who trust, who proclaim that God’s reign is not far off, but here today, now.
So what does it look like for us to live as people who know the kingdom is already near? It means, as Paul writes, that we bear one another’s burdens. We don’t judge or shame those who stumble but gently restore. We sow seeds of kindness and goodness—not for a reward far away, but because each seed brings the kingdom’s harvest closer in every life we touch.
It means we go into the world not with fear or cynicism, but with hope and expectation. We look for where God’s peace is welcome, and we linger there. And when our message is not received, we don’t despair—we simply shake the dust from our feet, trusting that the nearness of God’s reign is not diminished by rejection or resistance.
Remember, the kingdom is not waiting on some future event. It is not being held back by our failures or fast-tracked by our successes. The kingdom is as close as your next breath, as real as the love you show, as present as the neighbor you help, the burden you share, the peace you speak.
The good news is this: God has already drawn near. Christ’s work is not only in the past or the future, but alive and at work in us, here and now. The resurrection opens our eyes to this truth, but the reality was always there—even as Jesus walked the dusty roads, healed the sick, and sent out his followers to spread peace.
Let us, then, be people of the kingdom—people who bear burdens, sow goodness, practice hospitality, and proclaim by our words and our lives: “The kingdom of God has come near to you.” Amen.
