Lectionary Commentaries for June 14, 2026
Third Sunday after Pentecost

The Gospel reading for the third Sunday after Pentecost presents a pivotal moment in Jesus’s ministry, the moment when his work empowers his followers to expand his ministry. As he moves through towns and villages, teaching and healing, he is moved with compassion for the crowds—people who are “harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd” (9:36). This moment leads to the commissioning of the Twelve, sending them out to extend his mission.

These verses capture the heart of discipleship: responding to the needs of the people, relying on God’s provision, and carrying forth the work of healing and restoration. To do this, Jesus’s disciples need to imitate their Lord. This passage challenges us to see discipleship not as passive belief but as active participation in the work of restoration.

Jesus’s ministry, as described in Matthew 9:35, is holistic. He teaches in synagogues, proclaims the good news of the kingdom, and heals every disease and affliction. His compassion for the people is not abstract; it moves him to action. He sees their suffering, their lostness, and recognizes their need for leadership and care.

Depending on our church traditions and the nations we reside in, gospel work that focuses on healing and justice can be suspect, seen as “social justice” disconnected from the proclamation of the good news. Similarly, some ministries focus their work entirely on the teaching and proclamation of the gospel with very little thought toward justice and healing. Jesus shows us that the work of the compassionate shepherd is holistic and integral; the preaching of the gospel is never separated from the embodied work of the gospel to bring healing and wholeness.

There is a crisis of leadership according to Matthew’s telling of the story. The people Israel are like sheep without a shepherd. But the Jewish religious leaders of the day were supposed to be the shepherds of the people. The people of Jesus’s day were “oppressed, downtrodden, beat-up, and crushed. The historical and literary contexts indicate Rome and the religious elite as those who inflict social, economic, political, and religious abuse with misrule.”¹ This vacuum of leadership is what Jesus and his disciples step into. What is needed is new leadership for a renewed community.

As an Indigenous reader of this text, I cannot help but see the confluence of understanding around what it means to be a leader. In many Indigenous cultures, leadership is not about hierarchy (Who am I in charge of?) but about service (Who can I help?). A true leader is one who cares for the people, ensuring their well-being. Much like a Wisdom Keeper or Medicine Man, Jesus responds to the needs of the people, embodying a leadership that is deeply relational and motivated by compassion.

Jesus’s statement about the harvest being plentiful but the laborers being few (9:37–38) speaks to a deep spiritual and communal reality. The needs are great, but there are not enough workers to meet the needs. This is not merely about numerical scarcity; it is about the willingness of people to step into the work of the kingdom. Jesus calls his disciples to pray that God will send out laborers—an act of faith that acknowledges both the magnitude of the task and the necessity of divine provision.

Immediately after this charge to pray, Jesus commissions the Twelve to this work. This means that the request for prayer was as much about seeking God’s will as it was preparing their own hearts and minds for the reality that they will be a part of the answer to their own prayer. Sometimes our prayers are an urgent petition for God to do what only God can do in the world. Other times, prayer is aligning our hearts with God’s will for us to do what God asks of us.

Matthew 10:1–8 describes Jesus’s commissioning of the Twelve. He gives them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal every disease and affliction. Their mission is not self-directed; they are sent specifically to the lost sheep of Israel, to proclaim that the kingdom of heaven has come near, and to enact this reality through healing and restoration. Their work is not for personal gain but for the restoration of balance and well-being among Israel.

The Jewish renewal movement begun by John the Baptizer now extends into the work of Jesus’s disciples as they are sent out and told to focus in the first instance on Israel, as God chose Abraham and his descendants to receive his blessing and for them in turn to be a blessing to the nations (Genesis 12:1–3). Yet even with the charge to avoid Gentiles and Samaritans (Matthew 10:5–6), the disciples will yet be a witness to Gentiles (Matthew 10:18), and the context of his directive is already couched within a narrative opening that highlights righteous Gentiles in the genealogy, the magi of the birth narrative, and the faith of the Roman centurion.

Within this narrative setting and with the framework of Jesus as Medicine Man, Jesus’s directive to go only to Israel is because it is Israel who is in need of medicine (see Matthew 9:12) and strength to live into their divine role.

The disciples’ mission is deeply restorative. They are sent to heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those with leprosy, and drive out demons (10:8). This is not just about physical healing but about restoring people to wholeness—socially, spiritually, and physically. Jesus’s commissioning of the Twelve challenges modern disciples to see faith as active participation in God’s integral mission. The work of healing, restoration, and justice is not confined to Jesus alone; it is entrusted to his followers.

Notes

1. Warren Carter, Matthew and the Margins: A Socio-Political and Religious Reading, JSNTSup 204 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 2003), 230.

Exodus 19 marks a pivotal transition between the first two sections of the book of Exodus: It both encapsulates the logic of the book as a whole and explains the connection between these sections. God’s words to Moses reinforce how God’s actions leading up to this point have shown the Israelites who God is. As a response to what God has done, God explains what the Israelites now need to do to live as God’s people.

The narrative structure of the book of Exodus falls into three sections:

• God shows God’s power to the Israelites by rescuing them from Egypt (Exodus 1–18),
• God instructs the Israelites how to live as God’s people (Exodus 19–24), and
• God instructs the Israelites to build the Tabernacle so God can dwell in their midst (Exodus 25–40).

Setting: Back at Mount Sinai, and sign fulfilled

The very setting of this scene underscores God’s faithfulness. In Exodus 19:2, the Israelites first arrive at Mount Sinai, but this marks an important return for Moses. When God spoke to Moses from the burning bush on this very mountain, God gave Moses a sign to dispel his doubts about his ability to lead God’s people. In Exodus 3:12, God promises Moses, “I will be with you. And this is the sign for you that I Myself have sent you. When you bring the people out from Egypt, you shall worship God on this mountain.”¹

Thus, Moses’s return to Mount Sinai begins the fulfillment of this promise, and when Moses instructs the Israelites to offer sacrifices in Exodus 24:5, they worship God and clearly complete this sign. Because this mountain was part of God’s sign, the setting of Exodus 19 draws attention to God’s faithfulness even before God speaks.

“You yourselves saw …” (Exodus 19:4)

Upon returning to this mountain, Moses seeks God’s guidance, and God gives him a message for the Israelites. God’s message begins by reminding them of what God has already done for them: “You yourselves saw what I did to Egypt.” God has just dramatically rescued them from the power and oppression of Pharaoh, and God asserts this as the foundation of the covenant God is about to make with them. Exodus has frequently emphasized how the purpose of God’s mighty acts has been to show the Israelites and the Egyptians who God is. For example, in Exodus 10:1–2, God tells Moses that God has bested Pharaoh so that the Israelites can tell their children through the generations and “know that I am the LORD.”²

God poignantly describes the deliverance from Egypt with imagery from the natural world: “I bore you on the wings of eagles.” While the nuance of this phrase is notoriously obscure, it points to God’s agency and the Israelites’ dramatic change of circumstance.

God concludes this invitation to remember with the primary result of God’s action: “I brought you to Me.” Since God remembered the covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in Exodus 2:23–25, the covenant has motivated God’s actions.³ The Israelites are far from the land of Canaan and not experiencing blessings at the hand of Pharaoh, so God acts to change their situation.⁴ God does not free the Israelites so they can do whatever they want; instead God brings the Israelites to God so they can be God’s people and participate in this covenant.

“And now …” (Exodus 19:5)

Very significantly, God shows the Israelites God’s power and commitment to the covenant before God instructs them how to live as God’s people. God makes the first move. After God has demonstrated why they would want to be God’s people, God instructs them how to live as God’s people. In Exodus 19:5, God’s speech continues with “and now,” which underscores how God’s instructions build on what God has already done for the Israelites. God then describes what the Israelites need to do to be God’s treasure among all the peoples of the earth: “If you will truly heed My voice and keep My covenant …”

Living according to God’s teaching will make the Israelites God’s covenant people. God’s speech here explains why God is about to give the Israelites ten commandments and further teaching. God’s teaching is essential for the Israelites to know how to continue as God’s people.

“A kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exodus 19:6)

If the Israelites follow God’s teachings, they will become “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.” This pivotal description anticipates why God will instruct the Israelites to build the Tabernacle in that latter part of Exodus and why instructions for sacrifices will follow in Leviticus. Just as the second section of Exodus builds on the first, there is also a close relationship between the second and third sections.

God instructs the Israelites to build the Tabernacle in the third section of Exodus because God wants to dwell in the midst of the people. God dwelling in the midst of the Israelites is the culmination of all God has done in memory of the covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The Tabernacle comes after God’s teaching because the Israelites need to live as God’s people for God to dwell in their midst.

While God’s teaching shows the Israelites how to live as God’s people, the people also struggle to follow all God’s instructions—perhaps most notably with the golden calf (Exodus 32–34). Because the Israelites struggle to live as God’s people, they will need a way to repair their relationship with God when they fail to live according to God’s teachings. God graciously provides a mechanism for this repair: the sacrificial system described in Leviticus.

Though the formal monarchy will begin much later (1 Samuel 9), the Israelites will be a “kingdom of priests” because the priests will play a vital role in offering sacrifices and repairing the covenant relationship when the Israelites stray from God’s teaching. They will be a “holy nation” because Leviticus portrays holiness as living as God’s people.

“We shall do” (Exodus 19:8)

After Moses takes God’s message to the leaders, all the Israelites commit to following God’s instructions: “Everything that the LORD has spoken we shall do.” All together as a people, the Israelites accept God’s logic and pledge to follow God’s teaching to live as God’s people.⁵ They have seen what God did for them in Egypt, and they are ready to learn how to participate in the covenant God is making with them.

Notes

1. Unless otherwise indicated, all biblical quotations are from Robert Alter’s translation, The Hebrew Bible: A Translation with Commentary, vol. 1, The Five Books of Moses (New York: W. W. Norton, 2019).
2. See also Exodus 7:5, 17; 8:10; 9:14–16; 11:9; 14:4, 18, 31.
3. See also Exodus 6:2–8.
4. See God’s promises in the covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in Genesis 12:1–9; 15; 17; 22:15–19; 26:1–5, 23–24; 28:13–15; 35:1–15; et cetera.
5. See also Exodus 24:3, 7.

Following last week’s reading where God appeared to Abraham (previously called Abram) during his travel through Shechem, this passage finds Abraham settled in Canaan, the land God promised to him and his descendants, when he is visited again by God. While the focus of this lesson often rests on Abraham’s hospitality, the core of the passage is the revelation that he and Sarah will bear a son in their old age—a reinforcement of the divine promise from Genesis 12.

Genesis 18:1–8

Abraham had “put down stakes” by the oaks of Mamre. In the ancient world, trees often held sacred significance and were frequently associated with theophanies (visible manifestations of God). God previously appeared to Abraham at the oaks of Moreh in Shechem (Genesis 12:6–7) and the oaks of Mamre at Hebron (Genesis 13:14–18). Abraham responded to these manifestations by building altars as acts of worship.

While Abraham was relaxing at his tent entrance, God appeared in the form of three men. By now readers might have come to expect the deity to appear at the mention of oak trees. Still, there is no indication that there was anything beyond the ordinary in their physical appearance to alert Abraham that this was a supernatural manifestation. However, Abraham’s behavior suggests he immediately recognized their divine nature. He ran to meet them and paid obeisance to the men. He showed deference to them, addressing them as “Adoni” (“my lord” or “my lords,” verses 3, 5).

While the Hebrew text uses a plural form, it can be translated as either “my lord” (singular) or “my lords” (plural), leading to scholarly debate over whether these were three messengers or God accompanied by two assistants. Whether or not one or all of the men were believed to be God is of less concern here than Abraham’s status in relation to the men—he recognizes that they are of a higher rank than he.

Abraham’s deference to the men continues as he calls himself “servant.” Although Abraham was not literally a servant or slave—under the ownership or subjection of another person; his obsequiousness toward the men fits what Margaret Aymer describes as the “conventional comedic trope of the running slave.”^[1] As such, Abraham introduces comic tension into the plot.

The narrator describes him as running from the tent’s entrance when he espies the men (verse 2), running back to the tent to instruct Sarah his wife to quickly make bread for their guests (verse 6), then running to the herd to select a calf for his servant—the literal servant—to slaughter and roast (verse 7). The servant then runs to prepare the calf. Abraham takes it upon himself to serve his guests and stands watch while they eat beneath the shade of the oak tree.

Throughout all this activity, Abraham doesn’t share the news with Sarah that they are entertaining divine guests. That information comes in the next scene. Genesis 18:1–8 serves as a bridge to introduce the visitors while extending the comedic trope. Sarah unwittingly adds her own humor in the next scene.

Genesis 18:9–15

After having their fill, one of the men asks Abraham about Sarah, and he replies that she is in the tent. Then the guest delivers a birth announcement—that he will return at the same time next year and Sarah will have given birth to a son. The purpose of their visit has finally been revealed.

Sarah has been standing inside the tent’s entrance within earshot of the men. Her reaction is to laugh at the incredulity of his pronouncement. Her inner thoughts revealed by the narrator must have been comical to readers: “Shall I have sexual pleasure?” The New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition sanitizes her words with the translation “Shall I be fruitful?” (verse 12). Most readers focus on the fact—by her own admission (and the narrator’s)—that she is an older woman past childbearing age. Sarah’s reaction dispels at least two myths concerning women, aging, and sexuality.

One myth is the commonly held belief that women don’t enjoy sex as much as men do. However, studies show that women desire sex as much as men. Another myth is that women peak sexually in their 30s. However, a separate study found that women ages 40 to 65 reported enjoying sexual pleasure, but that there is no age at which women—or men—peak sexually.^[2] The truth is that human sexual intimacy is a gift from God to be enjoyed.

Sarah’s advanced age and years of infertility highlight the physical reality of her situation. Thus, Sarah’s disbelief is understandable. Yet, what ensues is a bewildering exchange between God and Sarah, without the two speaking directly.

God confronts Abraham, asking him why Sarah laughed at the news that she would bear a child in her old age. God appears defensive, responding rhetorically, “Is anything too hard for the Lord?” (verse 14), and reiterates the promise that this time next year, she will give birth to a son. Sarah overhears the men and is overcome with fear upon realizing that the stranger who pronounced the annunciation was God or God’s messenger. In her nervousness, she denies having laughed. God retorts, “Yes, you did laugh” (verse 15).

While Sarah spoke the truth based on biological facts—barrenness, age, being past menopause—the narrative serves to reassure that there are no physical barriers God cannot overcome when it comes to delivering on God’s promises.

Notes

1. Margaret Aymer, “Outrageous, Audacious, Courageous, Willful,” in Womanist Interpretations of the Bible: Expanding the Discourse, ed. Gay L. Byron and Vanessa Lovelace (Atlanta: SBL, 2016), 280.
2. Nicole Tammelleo, “Top 5 Myths About Female Sexuality,” Maze Women’s Sexual Health, July 27, 2021, https://www.mazewomenshealth.com/blog/top-5-myths-about-female-sexuality/.

Commentary for this text is forthcoming.

In this text, God’s love for human beings takes center stage. Love has not appeared before in Romans, but here it explains why God has acted in Christ Jesus and his death to save sinners. Paul is blunt about the plight of human beings that prompted God’s love to be expressed in this costly way. It was while we were “still weak” (5:6), and “still sinners” (5:8, and “enemies” of God [5:9]) that Christ died for us. His death was the way in which God overcame our alienation from God. Despite being the party offended against, God undertook all that was necessary to repair the broken relationship.

God’s love for us, therefore, does not depend on what we are. It does not depend on our having positive qualities that make us lovable from God’s perspective. We are loved even in the ugliness of our sin. Martin Luther captured this perfectly when he wrote that “sinners are attractive because they are loved; they are not loved because they are attractive.”¹

This does not mean that the gospel leaves us unchanged. In contemporary Western culture, it is acceptable to preach that God loves us as we are, that there is nothing we can do that will make God love us less, and that God meets us where we are, even if at a deeper level people do not fully understand the huge challenge of living in a way that embodies these truths. It is less acceptable to say that God also loves us too much to leave us as we are, but this must be said if we are to avoid preaching a God who is not so much loving as simply indulgent.

God’s love for us must come first, for we are powerless to change ourselves, but if God’s love, the love that took Christ to the cross, truly has been poured into our hearts through the gift of the Holy Spirit (5:5), then change will come.

There is a very long-standing debate as to whether the love spoken of in 5:5 is God’s own love for us or our love for God, since Paul’s Greek can bear either meaning. Everything in the context, where God’s own love is repeatedly emphasized, suggests that it is to this that Paul refers here. But God’s own love is exactly what we need to transform us and to enable us to love both God and neighbor more. Human love responds to beauty, but God’s love creates beauty out of nothing where otherwise there is ugliness.

Paul introduces the theme of divine love because he is spelling out the consequences of his previous argument about justification by faith (3:21–4:25). It is because of their justification through faith in Christ that those who believe now have peace with God (5:1). They have been able to access (the image is of gaining entrance to an otherwise restricted area, such as a royal throne room or a temple sanctuary) this right standing before God through grace. This grace is the undeserved favor shown to the ungodly and the unworthy by God through Jesus.

Yet because of where and to whom it grants access, it is not enough simply to note that grace is undeserved favor. Grace becomes a location, for those who are justified stand under it (5:2) so that it is the place where they now live new lives: “God’s gift creates a new realm of existence characterized by undeserved welcome, which in turn becomes the new foundation for the self and the community.”²

This new foundation for life leads Paul to want to boast in the hope of sharing in God’s glory when Christ returns and all creation is redeemed (see 8:18–25). Because it is founded upon God’s grace, this boasting is not about any aspect of human achievement or worthiness. Ironically, the only human thing that can be swept up into this boasting in the hope of glory is that part of human life normally regarded as least compatible with glory, which is suffering (5:3). Hope becomes a way of life in which suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character (literally, the condition of having been tested and proved genuine), and character produces hope (5:3–4).

These claims raise difficult but important questions. Is Paul saying that suffering is good? And does he inadvertently provide a resource to those who would sustain injustice by telling the oppressed that their suffering is beneficial? Certainly, this text can be misused in these ways. But there are reasons Paul risks saying what he does.

One is that he knows that in Roman culture, to worship a crucified criminal like Jesus will be regarded as shameful. To do so is to identify with slaves and others at the bottom of the social pile who will be no strangers to affliction. God has chosen what is low and despised in the world (1 Corinthians 1:28), and to embrace the gospel and accept the suffering that follows is to be aligned with this divine choice over and against value systems that exalt the strong.

Further, this divine choice of what is low and despised, expressed in the suffering of God’s Son, means that through him “all human suffering can be an opportunity for meeting God and growing in hope.”³ This does not mean that suffering is good, but it does mean that no suffering can place the sufferer beyond the power of God’s love. And it is this love without limits that took Jesus to his death for our sakes, and which has been poured into our hearts through the gift of the Holy Spirit (5:5).

Notes

1. Luther’s Works 31:57.
2. Susan G. Eastman, Romans: An Interpretation Bible Commentary (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2025), 98.
3. Eastman, Romans, 108.