Sunday, October 18, 2026

Sermon fort the 20th Sunday after Trinity for the congragations of St. Johns and St Crucis, 18th of October 2026

 The Fence and the Field: Rediscovering the Gift of Rest

Text: Mark 2:23–28


Opening: A Simple Picture

Imagine a shepherd looking after his flock. He knows where the green pastures are, but he also knows the dangers nearby: a steep cliff on one side and wolves in the valley.

So, he builds a fence.

Not to imprison the sheep, but to protect them. The fence gives them a safe place to graze, rest, and live in peace. It is, in its own way, an act of love.

But imagine that the shepherd becomes so concerned about the fence that he forgets the sheep. He spends his days checking the posts, repairing the rails, and making sure nobody damages it.

Meanwhile, the sheep are hungry. They need food and water, but the shepherd is too busy protecting the fence to care for the flock.

What good is a perfect fence if the sheep inside it are starving?

That brings us to the heart of today's Gospel. It is the tension between the fence and the field, between God's Law and the love that gives it purpose.

And, if we are honest, it is a tension we still struggle with today.

A Gift That Became a Burden

In our Gospel reading, Jesus and His disciples are walking through the grainfields on the Sabbath. As they walk, the disciples begin to pluck heads of grain.

The Sabbath was a gift from God. It reminded His people that they were no longer slaves in Egypt, condemned to work every day. God had freed them. They could stop working, worship, rest, and remember that their lives belonged to Him.

But over time, religious leaders had developed detailed rules about what could and could not be done on the Sabbath. They wanted to protect God's commandment, and perhaps their intentions were good.

Yet the fence had gradually become more important than the field.

Picking a few heads of grain could be interpreted as harvesting; rubbing them between the hands could be regarded as threshing. The disciples were accused of breaking the Sabbath.

The Pharisees ask Jesus, "Look, why are they doing what is not lawful on the Sabbath?"

They see the rule being broken, but they fail to see hungry people walking with Jesus.

They are guarding the fence while missing the purpose of the field.

The Sabbath Was Made for Us

Jesus answers with words that are simple enough for a child to understand, yet profound enough to occupy us for a lifetime:

“The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.” (Mark 2:27)

Think about that. The Sabbath was made for us.

God knows what it means to be human. He knows our bodies grow tired, our minds become anxious, and our spirits become weary. He knows how easily we get caught up in work, responsibilities, and the endless demands of everyday life.

So He gives us the Sabbath.

It is not a burden placed on our shoulders but a gift placed in our hands.

God's commandments are not a collection of traps designed to catch us doing something wrong. They are given for the sake of life, to guide us towards what is good and protect us from what destroys us.

The command to rest is not an obstacle to a good life. It is part of what makes a good life possible.

And we need to hear that in a world that measures our worth by how much we accomplish, how hard we work, and how useful we are to others.

Even in the Church, we can become so busy doing things for God that we forget to receive what God wants to give us.

We can become so concerned about getting everything right that we forget the grace that holds us when we get things wrong.

The Sabbath reminds us that our lives do not depend entirely on what we do. We are also called to receive, to trust, and to rest in God's goodness.

When We Turn Gifts into Burdens

The Pharisees' problem was not that they took God's Word seriously. The problem was that they had become so attached to their interpretation of the Law that they had lost sight of the people the Law was meant to serve.

They had turned a gift into a test and a day of freedom into a source of anxiety.

And we can do the same.

We can take God's commandments and turn them into weapons. We can use our faith to shame those who are struggling, point out the failures of others while overlooking our own, or make people believe they must earn God's love by getting everything right.

Before long, the Church can feel less like a place of grace and more like a place where people are afraid of making mistakes.

What happens then? We stand at the fence, pointing out who has crossed the line, while forgetting those who are hungry, lonely, grieving, or desperate for hope.

Jesus is not saying that God's Law no longer matters. He is reminding us why it matters.

God's Law calls us to love our neighbour. It is not an excuse to stop loving our neighbour.

His commandments guide us towards what is good; they are not an invitation to look down on those who struggle.

When someone comes to us carrying guilt, grief, or the consequences of their mistakes, our first response should not be to reach for the rulebook and point a finger. It should be to remember the grace we ourselves have received.

After all, we do not stand before God because we have kept every rule perfectly. We stand before Him because of His mercy.

Let me give you a simple example.

Imagine someone who has been absent from church for several Sundays. Perhaps they have been caring for a sick spouse, struggling with financial worries, dealing with loneliness, or simply finding life more difficult than they let others see.

One Sunday, they finally walk through the church door again.

What happens next?

Someone might say, "We haven't seen you for a long time. You really should come to church more regularly."

Perhaps the words are well meant. Church attendance matters, and gathering for worship is a precious gift. But imagine how those words might sound to someone who has spent weeks struggling just to get through each day.

They came hoping to find a little encouragement, a word of grace, perhaps a reminder that God had not forgotten them. Instead, they leave feeling that even their absence has become another failure.

Now imagine a different response.

Someone welcomes them with a smile and says, "It's good to see you. How have you been? Is there anything we can pray about together?"

The circumstances have not changed. The person may still have the same struggles, and the importance of worship has not diminished. But the first response puts the fence before the person. The second remembers why the fence exists in the first place.

That is the difference grace can make.

As a Church, we are not called to pretend that nothing matters. We are called to remember what matters most: the people Christ loves, the burdens they carry, and the grace we have all received from Him.

Sometimes the most pastoral thing we can do is not to explain another rule, but to sit beside someone, listen patiently, pray with them, and remind them that they do not have to earn their place among God's people.

After all, none of us comes to church because we have managed to get everything right. We come because we need God's mercy.

And the good news is that Christ does not wait for us at the gate with a list of our failures. He comes to meet us with His promise: *"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."

 

Jesus, the Lord of the Sabbath


Jesus then makes an even more remarkable statement:

“So the Son of Man is Lord even of the Sabbath.” (Mark 2:28)

Jesus is not merely offering a different interpretation of the Sabbath. He is declaring His authority over it. He reveals the true purpose of God's gift through His own ministry of mercy, healing, forgiveness, and restoration.

And here we reach the heart of our Christian faith.

In Matthew's Gospel, Jesus offers this invitation:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

Notice what He does not say.

He does not say, "Come to me when you have sorted out your life."

He does not say, "Come to me when you have proved you are good enough."

He says, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened."

That invitation is for those who are tired, those who have made mistakes, and those who have spent so long trying to hold everything together that they have forgotten how to rest.

Jesus invites them to Himself.

This is the good news of the Gospel: our deepest rest is not something we achieve by following a perfect set of rules. It is something we receive through Christ.

We do not earn God's love through our religious performance. In Jesus, God comes to us with forgiveness and grace. Through His death and resurrection, Christ has freed us from the power of sin and the fear that we must somehow make ourselves worthy of God.

We are not saved by keeping the fence perfectly.

We are saved by God's grace in Jesus Christ.

And that changes how we live.

Living in the Field

So what does this Gospel mean for us in everyday life? Let me suggest three things.

First, stop treating your relationship with God as a performance.

Perhaps you sometimes feel that you have not prayed enough, read enough of the Bible, done enough for the Church, or lived up to the person you think you ought to be.

Hear the words of Jesus: the Sabbath was made for you.

Prayer matters. God's Word matters. Serving our neighbours matters. But these are not ways of buying God's love. They are responses to the love He has already shown us in Christ.

You do not have to earn God's grace. You are invited to live in it.

Second, do not turn God's Law into a weapon against others.

We all know how easy it is to notice another person's faults while overlooking our own.

The Church is not called simply to stand at the fence, waiting for someone to cross the line so that we can tell them how wrong they are. We are called to share the love of Christ.

That does not mean pretending that right and wrong no longer matter. It means holding truth and compassion together: speaking honestly without humiliating people, offering guidance without crushing them, and walking alongside those who are struggling.

Instead of asking only, "Has this person broken a rule?" we should also ask, "How can we help this person find healing, hope, and a way forward?"

That is what it means to care for the flock.

Third, make room for the gifts God wants you to receive.

We live in a world that rarely encourages us to slow down. There is always another task, another message, another problem to solve.

Even when we sit down, our minds may still be racing.

But God invites us into a different rhythm: worship, prayer, fellowship, time with those we love, and moments of gratitude for His creation.

Sometimes faith means doing something. Sometimes it means waiting. And sometimes it means trusting God enough to put down the tools, close the diary, and rest.

We are human beings, not machines. Our worth does not depend on our productivity.

Conclusion: The Shepherd and His Sheep

Let us return to the shepherd and his fence.

The fence matters. God's commandments matter. They are good gifts that guide us towards life and protect us from what is destructive.

But the fence is not the field. And the fence is not the shepherd.

The purpose of the fence is to serve the life of the sheep, not to become more important than the sheep themselves.

We are not called to worship the rules. We are called to worship the God who gives them and to follow Jesus, the Good Shepherd who knows His sheep and lays down His life for them.

Dear friends, God knows your weariness. He knows the burdens you carry, the worries you do not speak about, and the responsibilities that sometimes seem never-ending.

And He does not turn away from you.

In Jesus Christ, He comes to you with forgiveness, mercy, and peace.

So let us rest in His promises. Let us treat one another with the grace we ourselves have received. And let us remember that the Christian life is not about endlessly proving ourselves worthy of God's love.

It is about receiving the love God has already given us in Christ.

The Shepherd has opened the way into the field. We can lift our eyes from the fence and look towards the One who leads us.

We can stop striving to earn what God freely gives. We can trust His promises, serve our neighbours in love, and rest in His grace.

The Sabbath was made for us. And the Lord of the Sabbath calls us to Himself.

In Him, we find our rest.

Amen.

 


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