Pentecost 14, 2025
Exodus 32:7-14
Psalm 51:1-11
1 Timothy 1:12-17
Luke 15:1-10
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
I have to tell you: I LOVE this set of readings we heard today! And you never hear me say that! It is not often in the summer that I can say this, but yeah, I love them. The opening hymn we sang is recommended in the manuals based on that reading from 1st Timothy, where Paul writes, “To the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever.” But the reason I went with the suggestion is because of the stark contrast to the first reading.
And here’s what I mean. In the reading from Exodus, God has had it with these chosen people, and God says to Moses, “Now let me alone, so that my wrath may burn hot against them and I may consume them.” Remember that “let me alone” phrase, because we’ll come back to it. But then Moses reminds God about all the promises of the past. The promises made to Abraham, Isaac, and Israel. Remember, God, how you promised to multiply their descendants and make a great nation of them. And then as we heard, “the Lord changed his mind about the disaster that he planned to bring on his people.”
The Lord changed his mind. That hymn I mentioned earlier includes phrases like, “We blossom and flourish like leaves on the tree, then wither and perish but nought changeth thee.” Nought changeth thee. The claim is that God doesn’t change. There are plenty of preachers who will insist to you that God is always solid, immovable, and unchanging. But . . . after a conversation with Moses, "the Lord changed his mind." And we see this quite often, especially in the Hebrew scriptures. God’s mind is changed after the flood—most notably—and we get rainbows because of it. And the reason that’s important is because of this: we do not have a real relationship with someone if we are not both changed by the relationship. If having a conversation with another person doesn’t somehow change that other person, then you’re actually talking to a brick wall, not a living being. The Lord changed his mind: changed it from death to life.
And then that portion of Psalm 51 today. It’s just beautiful in every way. Confessing sin before God, in the quiet confidence that God can do something about it. Wash it away, blot it out, cleanse us of it. Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.
And, speaking of sin, then we heard from Paul’s first letter to Timothy, our patron saint. Paul freely admits that he was unworthy to be of service to God. And yet, God still finds a place for him, making Paul an example of the everlasting mercy of God. And then that confident assertion: “The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.” Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. We sometimes forget that because we’re already in the church. But we Episcopalians do not hold to an I-once-was-lost-but-now-am-found understanding of human nature. We do not claim to be perfect, because we know we are not. We are renewed daily by the power of God’s forgiveness, because we still need it! We have a confession of sin in every service because we still need it. Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, and I know that I am one, in thought, word, and deed.
And then there’s the gospel reading—Luke chapter 15. There are three stories of lost and found in this chapter of Luke, and we heard two of them from Jesus today: the lost sheep and the lost coin—the lost son (sometimes called the prodigal son) is the third parable, but it isn’t included in today’s reading.
We tend to think of these stories the way I just described them: a lost sheep, a lost, coin, and a lost son. But, quite clearly, these are stories about a faithful shepherd, a diligently seeking woman, and a waiting father. And that distinction matters. A lot! Because, to be honest, the sheep coin and son are just sort of props to make the point that the parables make.
First thing to notice is the setting. This reading picks up right where last week’s reading stopped. There is nothing mentioned about food, no one is described as eating anything, and out of nowhere the Pharisees and the scribes are grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” And let’s take note of this: Just imagine a world where the chief complaint against the church is that we welcome sinners and eat with them. Could be our new tag line: St. Timothy’s Church, we welcome sinners and eat with them. I gotta say, I’d join that church!
So Jesus asks them a question: “Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it?” The correct answer is, none of us! Not one of us would leave the 99 and go find the one that was lost. That’s not how we operate. What would the stockbroker say?!? But anyway, this unusual shepherd goes and finds the lost sheep, and what does the shepherd do upon returning home? He calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, `Rejoice with me.” Gathers together the community and says, “Rejoice with me.”
And then the woman who has lost a coin. Rather than waiting until daylight, she lights a lamp (which is expensive in those days, by the way), she sweeps the house, and looks carefully in the darkness until she finds it. And when she finds it, what does she do? She calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, “Rejoice with me.” Gathers together the community and says, “Rejoice with me.” (As one commentator says, since she has already swept and cleaned the house, she might as well have people over.) But in both cases, the one seeking the lost gathers together the community and says, “Rejoice with me!”
Contrast that with what God says to Moses back in that reading from Exodus: “Now let me alone, so that my wrath may burn hot against them and I may consume them.” But Moses sticks around, and God changes. God and Moses have a relationship. God and Moses form a community, in a sense. And rather than being let alone to smite everyone, God and Moses can rejoice together, because what was lost will be found. Community and rejoicing go hand in hand.
But wait! Remember how this reading started? Tax collectors and sinners were gathering around Jesus to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and making accusations against Jesus. The Pharisees and scribes were also forming a community. A community based on accusations, and grumbling, and driving fear into the hearts of those who were willing to pay attention to them. It is not just rejoicing that forms communities; fear and hatred do as well. This has never been more clear than in the past few days. No matter your political persuasion in these crazy divided times, the e-mails always start the same: Look at the scary things those people are doing! Come and join our community. (And also send us five bucks.)
Community can be formed around love and redemption, and community can also be formed around hatred and fear. “Come rejoice with me” and “come grumble with me” both build community. One brings life and salvation, and the other brings death and destruction. And we can join either community any time we like, because they will both always be there.
And here’s the other thing about these two parables. It is tempting to think of ourselves as the shepherd who seeks out the lost sheep. Or to think of ourselves as the woman who diligently seeks out the coin. Winning souls for Jesus! Saving those who are on a highway to hell. But look at the context of these parables. The religious leaders are complaining that Jesus eats with sinners, and then he tells them these parables. The shepherd who seeks and the woman who searches . . . these are explanations for why Jesus eats with sinners. It is Jesus who seeks out the lost. AND, it’s important to note: The sheep was already in the shepherd’s fold. The coin was already in the woman’s purse.
And when Jesus finds what was lost, or what has wandered off, he gathers the community together and says, “Rejoice with me!” Some days, you and I are the sheep he tracks down. And sometimes you and I are the coin that he finds. But every day you and I are the friends and neighbors that Jesus calls together and says, “Rejoice with me!” And then he spreads a meal before us on the altar. And in that meal, we find once more that Jesus always welcomes sinners . . . and eats with us. May God make us always grateful that Jesus never stops searching until every coin is found, and every sheep is returned to his heavenly fold, so that this rejoicing may go on through all eternity.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment