One Mission, Many Fields - Bishop ANashuya Fletcher
Likening the church to a “field hospital” where everyone’s hands are needed, she says that we all contribute to God’s mission and have a role to play. She warns against the dangers of comparison, encouraging leaders to focus on their own “patch” and season of ministry—whether sowing, tending, or harvesting. The talk calls for unity, celebration of diversity, and a renewed commitment to fruitful discipleship, reminding listeners that every contribution matters in the tapestry of God’s work.
This year, one of my prayer rhythms has been cross-stitching a map of our diocese. As I’ve been doing it, I’ve been praying for the flourishing of every community across Arohere. I’ve been praying for you as leaders and teams, and for the people in your communities—that you would know flourishing, that God would equip and resource you with what you need for your ministries, and that you would have people to partner with you in the places where you work, live, and play.
It’s a little bit like each of these squares is one of those fuels from our Gospel reading today. One of the things I’ve noticed as I’ve been sewing is that the fabric is weak until the whole thing is complete. It’s the weave of those stitches with one another—their interconnectedness and interlocking—that gives the tapestry its full strength and vibrancy.
I don’t think there’s anywhere we would say the good news of Jesus is not present at all. And yet, we know there are so many places where it has not fully come. So many people do not experience the abundant life that Jesus has promised. We heard Simon share earlier about the things many of us are seeing in our local neighborhoods. The task remains for us: to continue to partner in God’s good work of growth and multiplication—people who follow Jesus and live in His way.
I’m going to quote Simon twice now. I just read an article last night that he put together for the Catch Network, and I thought he had this beautiful analogy of what the church is. He said:
“I’ve come to believe that a field hospital is a far better picture of the church. We are not a club tucked away from the battle. We are God’s field hospital operating in enemy territory, binding up the broken-hearted and tending the wounded in Christ. It’s messy and uncomfortable. You never know who’s coming through the door next. Sometimes it’s your neighbor, sometimes it’s you. Everyone’s hands are needed because lives are on the line.”
I thought that was just really beautiful.
The passage we’ve just read was the theme for our weekend: One Mission, Many Fields. Many fields with field hospitals, perhaps—that’s the addition from what Simon says.
When I was reading the Gospel passage, what I really loved about it is that it’s tucked in the middle of Jesus’s encounter with the Samaritan woman. N.T. Wright writes:
“For Jesus, the turn the conversation has taken and the woman’s reaction have shown Him that here, outside the boundaries of the chosen people, away from Jerusalem itself, there is a spiritual hunger which, in however muddled a fashion, is ready to hear what He has to say.”
I don’t know about you, but I’ve been in lots of conversations recently that talk about this increased spiritual hunger—this increase in spiritual temperature across Aotearoa. You’ve probably read stuff about revivals overseas. While we might not have the research studies or mainstream news articles to back it up, that’s certainly the conversation being had.
Scottie shared a little bit at Little Revolutions about his response to the Quiet Revival report from the Bible Society in the UK. He said he felt mixed and vulnerably sifted through his feelings. Was it jealousy—comparing the raging success elsewhere to what he was experiencing here? Was it ego, wishing he was the one with the successful story to tell? Just to be clear, neither of those things was true for him. There was something else. But I just love that he named that, because I resonated with it myself.
Maybe it’s just me—maybe I’m only preaching to myself here—but it’s something I felt I should touch on. You’ve possibly heard the phrase “Comparison is the thief of joy.” It’s so hard not to compare. So often, when we hear good news, we think it’s some sort of threat to our own self or the thing we’re a part of. Rather than celebrating the fruitfulness or success others are having, we denigrate it. We bring them down. We make excuses for why good things are happening.
We say things like, “Oh, that church is growing, but remember—it’s not just about numbers.” Or, “It’s because they’ve got a full-time stipend and a really great pastor.” Or, “It’s just because they’ve got so many young adults.” I find myself doing it. And when I say or think those things, it’s like I’ve forgotten that God’s desire is to bring flourishing to the whole. It’s like I’ve forgotten that God is the God of the harvest.
Comparison is the thief of joy, but it’s also a distraction from the work we are called to do. Each of us has been called as co-labourers in God’s fields. God has entrusted a particular patch to us—or maybe a few. There’s more than enough for us to do in our own patch without worrying about what’s happening in other people’s.
There’s also the reality of different seasons. Some of us are still working the soil. One of the clergy this week said the soil in their area was in real need of a jackhammer! I’m just acknowledging that some of us are working hard ground, and it’s going to take time and tending from God before we even begin sowing.
Some of us are sowing in faith, knowing that when God begins a good work, God will bring it to completion—but it may not be in our timing or the way we expected. Some of us are in the phase of gathering a harvest. Some of us had the joy of being there from the beginning when the seeds were sown. Some of us are reaping the benefits of other people’s hard graft.
Whatever the season, we want to be fruitful. We actually need to get out in the field. We can’t get distracted looking at our neighbour’s view.
Maybe one final lesson from the cross-stitch: the pictures with the greatest diversity of color end up being the strongest, because they have multiple threads woven over one another, supporting one another. I think that has something to say to us—that we need the full diversity of this room, the full diversity of our diocese, to see the flourishing of the whole. Every person in every place has something unique and special to contribute to God’s mission.
God has one church for God’s mission—and it’s us. But there’s such beauty in the diversity and vibrancy of what we have to offer. Even when we finish all the fields we might be able to see on my little map, we know there are so many other places that still long to be filled in. So many places God is inviting us to stitch and strengthen—not just in our diocese, but around the world.
Bishop Justin and I will continue to pray alongside many of you that God would raise up more workers—that more laborers would come to partner in God’s work, to be co-laborers in the work of the Kingdom here and elsewhere.
But I felt like the heart of what I wanted to share this afternoon is just the reality that I think some of us wonder if the contribution we have to make is valued. I know nobody does it for the recognition, but you still kind of want to be seen. I wonder if some people feel sidelined, underappreciated, or unacknowledged—and need to be reminded that we need everyone. The tapestry is our work together. It’s not just us working in God’s field, but God’s art for the world—and it is for everyone.
