6 July 2025, Luke 10:1-11, 16-20, "We Are Still Being Sent — The Journey Is Not Over"

As some of you might have read in last week’s newsletter, I spent a few days away at a preaching conference in Katoomba, in the Blue Mountains, just across from Scenic World, the place with the cable cars that offer an incredible view of the mountains. I had a wonderful time, organised by the Sydney Anglican Diocese and Moore College, but I have to say, the intensive schedule was quite demanding.

And on top of that, we had to endure some classic Aussie winter weather, temperatures dropped below zero at night, with wind and rain. Just miserable. I didn’t get much sleep, I can tell you that.

On the second day, we were given a 30-minute break for morning tea. I was desperately craving a good, warm, barista-made coffee, so I walked over to Scenic World, you know, the place with the cable cars that give you that stunning view of the mountains.

As I made my way to the café, I thought to myself, “Honestly, who on earth would be riding a cable car in this kind of weather?” But to my surprise, the car park was full of tour buses. The café was warm and buzzing with far more people than I expected. All rugged up in their jumpers and coats, most of them were tourists from countries far, far away.

And in that moment, I saw something truly beautiful. It wasn't the view outside the window, but the sight of the tourists themselves. Despite the wild wind and rain outside, every single face was lit up with a brilliant smile,  just pure excitement and a sense of wonder.

You could feel their hearts were full of anticipation for the grand view of the Blue Mountains, three sisters… a view they had travelled thousands of kilometres to see. It was a real once-in-a-lifetime experience for them. Looking at them, I soon found a small smile spreading across my own face. The joy of those happy tourists was contagious.

But, in that same space, there was another group of people with very different expressions. Who do you think they were? Yes, that’s right, the staff members. The people guiding tours, selling tickets, operating the cable cars, keeping everyone safe. A completely different story. Their faces showed a deep weariness…. the kind that comes from routine. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. I’ve been there.

On one side, they had a once-in-a-lifetime ‘special experience’; on the other, just another day of ‘hard work.’ It was a fascinating moment of contrast. For the staff, this amazing place had simply become their daily workplace. I wonder … what was their first day of work like? Surely, they must have felt joy and gratitude to witness some of the world’s most beautiful scenes every day. But now, having to endure the winter, and with the job becoming a routine, that initial sense of wonder had likely faded away.

And then, something turned inward. As I looked at those tired and enduring staff, I suddenly saw myself and my heart just sank. I found myself asking, “Why do I sometimes feel so burdened by pressure and anxiety, even while standing in this holy calling of learning, preparing, and preaching? 

Those questions hit me hard. Had I also started to see this precious ministry as just ‘a job’? What would it take for me to walk this path with the same joy and wonder as those tourists?

Yes, I’m supposed to be a guide to a place far, far more beautiful than the Blue Mountains,  the Kingdom of Heaven. But I had to ask myself, “Have I become like the staff?  weary, hardened, and just going through the motions?”

And that reflection brings us here this morning. We are all people who have gathered to experience a little taste of heaven through the love and grace of Jesus. We love one another, comfort and bless one another, and put the love of Christ into action. In that sense, we are all spiritual staff members…….guiding others to the most wonderful place in the universe: the Kingdom of God here. But the question is this: Do we still carry the joy and excitement of a first-time visitor?Or have we grown tired, worn out by repetition, and become overly familiar with the ongoing of church life?

As I was deep in thought, someone waved at me and called out, “Mate! Quick, get on!”They had mistaken me for one of the Korean tourists. It was a happy moment, and I felt a strong temptation. I imagined just hopping on that cable car and leaving everything behind!

In today’s reading, we meet a group of disciples who were, in a way, like those first-time tourists, buzzing with excitement from an incredible experience. They were the seventy disciples, sent out in pairs to the towns and villages that Jesus was about to visit.

Jesus had chosen them and sent them out, two by two. You can imagine how excited they must have been. “Wow! Jesus trusts us with this important mission! they might say” But that excitement likely turned into nervousness as they heard Jesus’ sensational instructions.

He said, “I am sending you out like lambs among wolves.” Not very comforting, right? Then He told them to take no money, no bag, no extra sandals …. to rely entirely on the kindness of strangers.“When you enter a house, say, ‘Peace be to this house.’ If they welcome you, stay there and eat whatever they offer. If they do not welcome you, shake the dust off your feet and move on  but be sure to say, ‘The Kingdom of God has come near.’” 

All they had was this: “I am sending you.” Can we imagine that? Being sent empty-handed into an uncertain, risky world, relying on his promise and the hospitality of strangers? The disciples probably set out with hearts half-full of fear and half-full of faith. 

And finally, after that uncertain journey, the disciples returned,  full of excitement and joy. “Lord! Even the demons submitted to us in Your name!” They were like the tourists coming off the cable car shouting, “That was incredible!” They were convinced they had discovered the true purpose of their mission: power, results, success. “We went out so we could do amazing things!”

But Jesus quickly calmed His excited disciples. “However,” He said, “do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” Jesus is saying, “Well done. I know you’re happy about the wonderful things you’ve done. You’re excited about what you’ve seen... but don’t find your joy in your achievements that come and go. Find your joy in the unchanging truth, that you belong to Me that you belong to my kingdom, that your name is written in heaven.”

And I would say this: you are not just a tourist marvelling at the Kingdom of God. You are now a staff member….. sent, trusted, and called to serve in it. Rejoice in that. I believe that this is the life-changing secret Jesus gives us. Our joy is based on where we belong. When we know our name is secure in heaven, duty turns into delight. A 'job' becomes a 'joy.' And it’s from this place of freedom and genuine joy that we can truly hear the call on our lives...

My brothers and sisters, so let me ask you all: Do you want me to stand before you simply out of a sense of duty... ...or do you want me to stand here filled with the deep and lasting joy that comes from knowing my name is written in the Kingdom of Heaven? That’s a completely different story. There’s a big difference, isn’t there? I will strive to stand here with the joy of knowing that my name is written in heaven. And what about you?

And friends, the same goes for all of us. When we gather here each Sunday—to worship, to sing, to care for one another, to serve, and to encourage—we’re not here as tourists. We are here as those who are still being sent; staff members of the Kingdom. With joy! With gratitude! How beautiful is that! 

But it’s easy to think: "I’m not really a disciple... I’m not a missionary... It’s too late for me now." We might quietly disqualify ourselves, thinking, “That kind of calling just isn’t for me.” And yet… our lives have days like that too, often without warning. There are times when our soul feels cold, our heart feels empty, and we feel like we’re standing all alone in the wilderness with nothing.

But often, it's in those very moments that God’s sending becomes most real. Because being sent isn’t about being ready… it’s about being willing. It’s about remembering that the One who sends us is faithful. And His word to us is the same: “I am sending you.”

Think of it: Jesus speaks to His disciples right when they are caught up in the excitement of their success. He does this because He knows what lies ahead. He knows their journey won’t always feel exciting. He knows they’ll grow tired. He knows they’ll face rejection, suffering, and even death. And yes, He knows that some of them will even betray Him.

That’s why Jesus gives them something so much deeper, a promise that’s stronger than any temporary joy. He says, “Rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”

But let’s be very clear about this. Jesus isn’t saying, “Just endure everything, and you’ll get a reward later.” This isn’t some future prize for surviving a hard life. And it’s certainly not a painkiller to numb us to the struggles we’re facing right now.

No. What Jesus does here is he shifts their focus entirely. He says, “Your value and your joy are not found in what you can do, but in who you are.” It’s a joy based completely on belonging.

So let's stop asking "how" or "why" we should follow. Let's focus instead on Who is sending us. And the truth is: we are still being sent.

I truly believe this: if we belong to Christ, then every single moment of our lives, even the most ordinary ones is part of a divine mission.

My prayer is this, and I hope it can be yours too: 

I am still being sent today. 

I am not a tourist chasing temporary excitement, but a citizen of heaven, living with an eternal joy. 

I am not a tired employee, weary from duty, but a staff member of the heavenly Kingdom, called to guide others in love and justice. 

I am not just passing through this world, but a precious pilgrim—still being sent, right now, right here, just as I am. 

 So today, as we stand before this Word, let’s make this confession together:

"Lord, I am still being sent. 

And this journey is not over yet. 

For the rest of my days,

I will live with this joy." Amen.