John 4:35–38

"Lift Up Your Eyes"

Introduction

Good morning, friends.

Wherever you are sitting this morning, whether here in the sanctuary, joining us online, or perhaps listening later in the week, I am grateful we can still gather around God's Word.

As many of you know, I am away today, but I didn't want us to miss the opportunity to finish this journey we have been taking together this summer.

For the past several months, we have been living in what we've called Growing Season.

We've planted seeds.

We've watched the rain come.

We've learned about pruning.

We've marveled at butterflies.

We've noticed wildflowers.

We've followed dragonflies.

We've tasted fruit.

We've listened for cardinals.

We've walked together through gardens.

Each week has reminded us that our spiritual lives grow much the same way a garden grows—not overnight, but one faithful day at a time.

Today we come to the final chapter.

Harvest.

Every gardener knows that planting is exciting.

Watching things sprout is encouraging.

Seeing blossoms appear is beautiful.

But no one plants a garden simply to admire green leaves.

Every garden has a purpose.

Every field has a purpose.

Every orchard has a purpose.

Eventually...

there comes the harvest.

Scripture

Listen once more to the words of Jesus.

"Do you not say, 'Four months more and then the harvest'? I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest."

Jesus doesn't say,

"Someday there will be a harvest."

He says,

"Look."

See it.

Notice it.

It is already here.

The Setting

To understand these words, we have to remember where Jesus is standing.

He's in Samaria.

A place most Jewish people tried to avoid.

His disciples have gone into town to buy food.

Meanwhile Jesus sits beside a well.

A woman comes.

Not just any woman.

A Samaritan woman.

Someone society would have ignored.

Someone others had judged.

Someone carrying years of hurt.

Yet Jesus speaks to her.

Listens to her.

Offers her living water.

And before long...

she runs back into town telling everyone,

"Come and see a man who told me everything I've ever done!"

While that is happening...

the disciples return carrying lunch.

They're worried about sandwiches.

Jesus is talking about souls.

They're thinking about food.

Jesus is thinking about people.

They're looking down into their lunch baskets.

Jesus tells them,

"Lift up your eyes."

Sometimes that is exactly what we need.

Lift up your eyes.

Illustration – Looking Down

A few months ago I was standing in line at a grocery store.

Everyone around me was doing exactly what we all do.

Every head was down.

Phones.

Screens.

Checking messages.

Looking at sales.

Reading headlines.

No one was talking.

No one noticed the elderly cashier moving just a little slower than everyone wished she would.

Then one little boy broke the silence.

He looked up at her and simply said,

"You're doing a good job."

She stopped.

Her eyes filled with tears.

She smiled and said,

"Thank you.

I really needed to hear that today."

One little sentence.

Five seconds.

Yet someone walked away feeling seen.

How many moments like that surround us every day?

How many people are quietly carrying burdens we never notice because we're looking somewhere else?

Jesus says,

Lift up your eyes.

Harvest Is Seeing

When Jesus speaks about harvest...

He's not talking about wheat.

He's talking about people.

People longing for hope.

People carrying grief.

People wondering whether anyone notices them.

People searching for purpose.

People asking questions they may never speak aloud.

Sometimes we imagine the harvest is somewhere else.

In another country.

Another city.

Another church.

Another generation.

Jesus says,

"No.

Look around."

The harvest is already here.

Maybe it's the neighbor you've waved to for ten years but never really talked with.

Maybe it's the young family trying church for the first time.

Maybe it's the resident at Western Maryland Hospital waiting every month for someone to come sing hymns.

Maybe it's someone sitting quietly beside you in worship every Sunday.

Maybe it's the cashier.

The mechanic.

The waitress.

The teacher.

The lonely widower.

The struggling teenager.

The exhausted nurse.

The frightened child.

God has already placed us among the harvest.

Illustration – The Farmer

I've never met a farmer who walks into a field one morning and says,

"I wonder if anything happened."

Because he already knows.

Every single day...

something has been happening.

Even when nothing could be seen.

The seed beneath the soil wasn't sleeping.

It was growing.

Roots were stretching.

Life was forming.

The harvest didn't begin the day the combines rolled into the field.

The harvest began months earlier.

The day the seed entered the ground.

Churches sometimes forget that.

We celebrate the harvest.

But God celebrates every faithful seed.

Every Sunday School teacher.

Every choir member.

Every prayer offered.

Every casserole delivered.

Every hospital visit.

Every Vacation Bible School volunteer.

Every encouraging card.

Every hug.

Every phone call.

Every conversation over coffee.

Every act of kindness.

Those are seeds.

Sometimes we never see what becomes of them.

But God does.

Bethel Has Been Planting

As I thought about today's message, I couldn't help thinking about this church.

Bethel has been planting seeds for generations.

Long before any of us arrived.

People whose names we may never know built this place.

They taught children.

Visited neighbors.

Prepared meals.

Kept this building open.

Prayed faithfully.

Gave generously.

They planted.

Today...

we are enjoying harvests they never lived to see.

Children became parents.

Parents became grandparents.

Faith was passed from one generation to another.

Lives were changed.

Communities were strengthened.

The seeds kept growing.

And now...

it's our turn.

Not because we're trying to build our church.

Because we're joining God's work.

Jesus never said,

"Go create a harvest."

He said,

"The harvest is already there."

Just open your eyes.

What Does Harvest Look Like?

Sometimes harvest doesn't look dramatic.

Sometimes it looks like someone finally smiling after months of grief.

Sometimes it looks like forgiveness.

Sometimes it looks like courage.

Sometimes it looks like someone walking back into church after years away.

Sometimes it looks like a child asking,

"Can I pray?"

Sometimes it looks like hope returning.

Harvest isn't always measured by numbers.

Sometimes harvest is measured one changed heart at a time.

Harvest

Part Two

Let's return to Jesus' words.

"One sows and another reaps. I sent you to reap what you have not worked for. Others have done the hard work, and you have reaped the benefits of their labor." (John 4:37–38)

At first glance, that almost seems unfair.

One person plants.

Another person gathers.

One person works.

Someone else enjoys the results.

But Jesus isn't describing unfairness.

He's describing the Kingdom of God.

None of us does all the work.

None of us gets all the credit.

Instead, God invites us to become part of something much bigger than ourselves.

One person plants.

Another encourages.

Someone else waters.

Someone else prays.

Someone else comes alongside at just the right moment.

And somewhere along the way, God brings new life.

That has always been how the Church has worked.

An Illustration: The Cathedral Builders

There's an old story about three stonecutters working on the same construction site.

A traveler asked the first man,

"What are you doing?"

Without looking up, he replied,

"I'm cutting stones."

He asked the second.

"What are you doing?"

The man answered,

"I'm earning a living for my family."

Then he asked the third.

The third man stopped, smiled, looked toward the unfinished building and said,

"I'm building a cathedral."

All three were doing exactly the same work.

But only one saw the bigger picture.

Sometimes we become so focused on the little tasks in front of us that we forget what God is building.

Someone unlocks the doors on Sunday morning.

Someone arranges flowers.

Someone folds bulletins.

Someone mows the grass.

Someone counts the offering.

Someone rocks a crying baby in the nursery.

Someone visits a hospital room.

Someone makes coffee.

Someone sends a card.

Those may seem like little things.

But in God's Kingdom, they are stones in a cathedral.

They are seeds in a harvest.

We Rarely See the Whole Story

One of the beautiful mysteries of ministry is that we seldom know how God uses the things we do.

As a pastor, I have learned that some of the sermons I thought were my strongest were quickly forgotten.

Then, months—or even years—later, someone will quietly say,

"Pastor, do you remember when you said..."

Honestly?

Usually I don't.

But they do.

Or someone will say,

"You visited me in the hospital."

"I was having the hardest week of my life."

"You probably don't remember that conversation."

But they do.

The smallest moments often become the biggest harvests.

And I suspect it's the same for every one of us.

You don't always know what your kindness means to someone.

You don't know what that handwritten note accomplished.

You don't know how much courage someone gained because you simply listened.

You don't know what one invitation to church may become twenty years from now.

The harvest belongs to God.

Our calling is simply faithfulness.

Lift Up Your Eyes

I keep coming back to those words.

"Lift up your eyes."

It seems to me that those words are more important today than ever before.

Because our world teaches us to look down.

Look at your phone.

Look at your schedule.

Look at your problems.

Look at your worries.

Look at your fears.

Jesus says,

"No.

Look around."

Look at the lonely.

Look at the discouraged.

Look at the child who needs encouragement.

Look at the neighbor who lost a spouse.

Look at the young family wondering if there is a place where they belong.

Look at the person who smiles every Sunday while carrying a burden no one else can see.

The harvest isn't hiding.

We simply have to notice.

Looking Back on Our Growing Season

This summer we have walked together through a garden.

Remember where we began?

A tiny seed.

Almost invisible.

Yet filled with possibility.

We learned that faith begins in small ways.

Then the rains came.

We discovered that storms do not destroy healthy faith.

Sometimes they deepen it.

We learned about pruning.

Not everything God removes is punishment.

Sometimes it is preparation.

We watched butterflies emerge from the chrysalis.

Transformation is often slow and uncomfortable.

We admired wildflowers.

God creates beauty in unexpected places.

Dragonflies reminded us that God often redirects our path before we understand why.

We talked about fruit.

Not what we accomplish—

but who we become.

The cardinal reminded us that God is often closer than we realize.

Last week we entered the garden together.

And today...

we stand in the harvest.

Do you see what Jesus has been teaching us all along?

The harvest didn't begin today.

It began with the very first seed.

Every lesson of this series has led us here.

Growth was never just about us.

It was always meant to become a blessing for someone else.

Healthy plants bear fruit.

Fruit becomes seed.

Seed becomes another harvest.

And God's work continues.

Bethel's Harvest

As I think about this congregation, I see harvest everywhere.

I see it in the volunteers who faithfully serve at Western Maryland Hospital, reminding residents they are not forgotten.

I see it in the friendships built through the community band, where music opens doors to relationships.

I see it in the laughter and energy of Vacation Bible School, where seeds of faith are planted in young hearts.

I see it in our food pantry, our community meals, and the quiet acts of generosity that often go unnoticed.

I see it in every prayer shawl, every visit, every phone call, every ride given to a doctor's appointment, every meal delivered after surgery, every note of encouragement tucked into a card.

Those things may never make the newspaper.

But Heaven notices.

That is harvest.

And I believe God is not finished with Bethel.

Not even close.

There are still fields waiting.

There are still lives to touch.

There are still stories to be written.

Conclusion

As we close this series, I want to leave you with one simple challenge.

This week...

before you rush into your day...

pray one prayer.

"Lord...

help me lift up my eyes."

Not just toward Heaven.

Toward people.

Show me someone I might otherwise overlook.

Give me courage to encourage.

Give me time to listen.

Give me compassion to care.

And help me trust that You are already at work long before I arrive.

Because that's the good news.

The harvest doesn't depend on us.

It belongs to God.

We simply have the joy of joining Him in the field.

Personal Closing for the Recorded Message

Before I finish this morning, allow me one personal word.

As you're watching this message today, I wish I could be standing there in person.

There's something about looking out over your faces on a Sunday morning that I miss whenever I'm away. I miss hearing your voices as we sing together. I miss the conversations before worship, the laughter in the hallway, the children coming forward, and the simple joy of being your pastor.

But perhaps my absence today also reminds us of something important.

The Church has never depended on one person standing behind one pulpit.

It has always depended on the presence of Jesus Christ.

He is here today.

His Spirit is moving among you.

His Word is alive.

His grace is being poured out.

And the work of His Kingdom continues—even when one of us is away.

As we've walked through this Growing Season together, I've watched God doing beautiful things in our church. I've seen faith deepen. I've seen kindness grow. I've seen people step forward to serve. I've watched this congregation become an even brighter witness to God's love in our community.

Thank you for allowing me the privilege of walking this journey with you.

It is one of the greatest joys of my life to be your pastor.

So as you leave today, don't leave thinking that Harvest is the end of the story.

Every harvest becomes seed for another season.

God is already preparing what comes next.

So lift up your eyes.

Look around.

Someone near you needs hope.

Someone needs encouragement.

Someone needs to know they are seen.

Be the kindness that points them toward Christ.

Be the invitation.

Be the prayer.

Be the smile.

Be the steady presence that reminds someone they are not alone.

And trust that the Lord of the Harvest is already at work.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.