Tending To The Harvest Among The Least Of These

A couple of years ago, my wife and I found ourselves among a small group of humble worshipers in a harvest field often overlooked.

It is afternoon and time for church. The living room-type setting is warm and comfortable, but the atmosphere is a mixture of confusion, sadness, and vague familiarity. The marked smell of antiseptic, coffee, and other odors fills the air. The worshipers have not traveled far. They come in wheelchairs or slowly on foot. Some make their way unaided, while others require assistance and encouragement to take another step. These worshipers have traveled always-unfamiliar hallways, their minds struggling with the growing darkness of Alzheimer’s or other forms of Dementia. We are mainly observers today, Kathy and I, there to greet, be kind, and encourage the workers in this often-forgotten field of harvest.

Soon the music begins, and old but familiar songs fill the air. Some attendees know all the words, reaching back to younger church-going years. Others have no faith background but come because at least something is happening today to break up the monotony of life in a care facility.

Sunset Bible Church members Rich and Edith lead the group in much-loved hymns, all sung slowly. Sue and Maggie sit amidst the crowd, lending their voices to the chorus, and bringing comfort with their smiles. Grandma Hays often participates in this ministry, her mind sharp despite the encroaching years, her age now more advanced than many in the room. The hymns of praise are punctuated by random comments, repeated questions, and a request to use the restroom. Humble and very human needs fill the room. Unlike many other harvest settings, pride and pretense are markedly absent. Uncombed hair and rumpled clothing are no excuse to skip this meeting.

My mind wanders back to a conversation with the facility director several years prior. Though not a person of faith herself, she had long wanted a religious service of any sort for the residents, but she had been unable to find a religious group nearby willing to engage in such humble service. Much to her disappointment, one group asked if their participation would involve remuneration. Apparently, some harvest fields are less glamorous than others. Our time in God’s Word is brief but clear. Rich reminds us of the love of God for all of us, regardless of our abilities, and clearly points to Christ and the gospel. In a harvest field like this, few need reminders that our time on earth is drawing to a close, and the urgency of trusting Christ as Savior is palpable.

Together we sing “All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name.” Struggling voices join together to proclaim eight times, “…and crown Him Lord of all.” The phrase causes me to reflect. We tend to see God’s hand in the beautiful and the powerful. We are drawn to the successful and the improving. We like our lives to be neat and clean and well-ordered, and when it is so, we proclaim the goodness and wonder of God. We look at our happy settings and say things like, “God is good” or “God showed up” – as though God is less good or even absent during painful circumstances.

We like harvest fields that lend themselves to good selfies or larger numbers. We are right, of course, to see God’s hand in good things and in happy times and to praise Him accordingly. Yet He is Lord as well in our darkness and in our failings. He is Lord when our health breaks and our needs increase. He is Lord when our voice is off-key, when our best is not all that good, and when our attempts to look put-together are in vain. He is Lord on the forgotten harvest fields as well. He is Lord in the promise of youth, and He is Lord in the fading years of life’s twilight.

Yes, Christ is Lord of all. He is Lord…even here!

Jay Mosser is a pastor at Sunset Bible Church, University Place, WA.