Proper 19/Pentecost 17/Ordinary Time 24
Preaching
Lectionary Preaching Workbook
Series VII, Cycle C
Object:
Theme For The Day
God always offers a special welcome to those who are lost.
Old Testament Lesson
Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28
A Vision Of Cosmic Destruction
The prophet's vision grows exceedingly dark, as he forecasts first a strong wind that comes not to winnow or cleanse, but to destroy (vv. 11-12), and then a cosmic cataclysm that will snuff out the lights from the heavens, shake the mountains, drive off the birds of the air, and transform the fruitful land into a desert (vv. 22-26). "The whole land shall be a desolation," says the Lord; "yet I will not make a full end" (v. 27). The Lord has resolved to do this, and will neither relent nor turn back (v. 28). The Judeans were already facing the threat of invasion from Babylon. That represented for them a social cataclysm, but now the prophet raises the odds to a cosmic dimension. He wants to be absolutely sure his readers understand that there is no escaping the divine retribution he is forecasting. There is but one small ray of hope: the Lord's words "yet I will not make a full end" of verse 27. This is the basis for Jeremiah's theology of the remnant (see 23:3), whereby a small portion of the nation will be saved, to begin all over again.
New Testament Lesson
Timothy 1:12-17
First Among Sinners
This week begins a seven-week series of lessons from 1 and 2 Timothy. Although the two letters to Timothy claim Pauline authorship, it is extremely unlikely that they were written by Paul. Their date is far too late for that. They are examples of "pseudonymous epistles," documents authored by some latter-generation disciple of a leading thinker, who attempted to envision what sort of answer his mentor might give to contemporary problems. Pseudonymous authorship is a literary device, and is intended neither to deceive the reader nor to discredit the purported author. These are either second- or third-generation (not first-generation) Christian documents. Writing from the standpoint of Paul, and recalling Paul's former persecution of Christians, the author declares, "The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners -- of whom I am the foremost" (v. 15). To the true author of this epistle, and to others, the redeemed Paul is "an example to those who would come to believe in him for eternal life" (v. 16).
The Gospel
Luke 15:1-10
The Parable Of The Lost Sheep And The Lost Coin
In response to the objections of Pharisees that he welcomes sinners and eats with them (vv. 1-2), Jesus tells three parables. The third and longest of them is the parable of the prodigal son (see Fourth Sunday In Lent). Before this one, however, come two shorter parables, the parable of the lost sheep and the parable of the lost coin. The Pharisees were objecting to the company Jesus is keeping; his response is that these once-disreputable people were in fact lost, but have now been found, and that it is therefore appropriate to greet them with rejoicing. If one sheep out of a herd of one hundred becomes lost, the shepherd will leave the 99, and immediately go off in search of the one that has wandered off (vv. 4-7). This answer presupposes an agrarian society, in which flocks are relatively small and the relationship between sheep and shepherds is close; the loss of one animal is a serious matter, and besides, there is not much risk in leaving the rest of the flock for a brief time to locate the wanderer, which surely has not gone far. A modern agribusiness outlook, according to which a lost animal is a missing asset with cash value but not much else, changes the meaning of the parable considerably. In the parable of the lost coin, a woman loses one of ten silver coins within her house, and turns the house upside-down looking for it, rejoicing when it finally turns up (a silver coin in that society has considerable value, and is far more than mere "pocket change"). The important feature in all three of these stories (including the prodigal son) is the joyous reaction when that which is lost is finally found. That, Jesus is saying to the Pharisees, ought to be the reaction of devout Jews to those who have been apostate but have now returned.
Preaching Possibilities
Today's reading includes two brief parables of things that are lost, and later found: the lost sheep and the lost coin. It is instructive to read them as a set of not two parables, but three -- with the third one being the parable of the Prodigal Son that follows immediately after.
As with most of Jesus' parables, to truly understand this one we have to know its setting. Luke tells us Jesus is speaking to a bunch of scribes and Pharisees -- and not just any scribes and Pharisees. These are grumbling scribes and Pharisees. And what are they grumbling about? They are grumbling that "this fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them" (Luke 15:2).
The scribes and Pharisees don't appreciate that sort of behavior in a rabbi. This Jesus -- who seems to be saying everybody has to get right with God, even them -- rubs them the wrong way. Can it really serve God's purposes to celebrate God's welcome of sinners, without also emphasizing God's judgment?
Luke places these three parables where he does, in the narrative, in order to make an important point. God's radically inclusive welcome is by far the most important feature of the new order that Jesus is bringing in.
All three parables are about something -- or someone -- that's lost, and later found. First there's that dim-witted sheep that wanders off -- only to be found by an incredibly reckless shepherd who abandons the herd of 99 to fend for themselves while he goes looking. Next there's that single-minded but rather dense homemaker, who turns the house upside-down looking for a coin she lost through her own carelessness. Finally, there's that juvenile-delinquent son, who tells his father he despises everything he stands for, and storms out of the house -- only to come crawling back to the homecoming party of the century.
Each of these parables deeply offends the scribes and Pharisees. In each one, that which is lost hardly seems worth finding. One sheep out of 99? That's a tax write-off. One silver coin out of ten? Well, tough luck to lose any amount of cash, but one coin's hardly worth a block party when it's found. And as for that miserable excuse for a son? "Don't you know, some kids are just bad apples: better to just practice 'tough love' and let them go."
What bothers the scribes and Pharisees most about these parables is the ending. Each one has a similar, formulaic conclusion. After the lost sheep: "Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over 99 righteous persons who need no repentance" (15:7). After the lost coin: "Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents" (15:10). And after the prodigal son: "But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found" (15:32). There is joy, overwhelming joy at recovering that which had been lost and of no account.
The scribes and Pharisees are very pious people, strong believers, upstanding citizens, tithers -- the sort of person anyone would be honored to have move into the house next door. They're not like the questionable characters who populate these parables. Scribes and Pharisees don't generally make bad choices, or sink into self-destructive habits. They don't wander off lost. They don't lose track of precious coins. They don't mouth off to the old man, go out drinking, and end up in the gutter. No, these scribes and Pharisees fully imagine that when they arrive at heaven's gate, they will stroll over to the platinum frequent-flier check-in line, whip out their membership cards, and head right for first-class.
Are we so terribly different? Most of us take pride in who we are, and what we've accomplished in life. Most of us are not used to thinking of ourselves as "lost," in any sense of that word. Most of us, in our heart of hearts, cherish the secret belief that we really are just a little bit better than the vast majority of people we encounter each day.
Yet, Jesus sees us differently. To Jesus, we are all lost sheep. We are all misplaced coins, lying lonely in a dusty corner. And we are all, in our own way, prodigal sons and daughters -- despite our protestations to the contrary.
To us he says, "Welcome home!"
Prayer For The Day
Look into our hearts, O God --
for it is in those dark, mysterious recesses that you see most clearly.
You see our fears ...
you see our pride ...
you see our poisonous complacency.
Give us sharp eyes to see those around us
who so need to hear a kind word of encouragement,
or whose lives would be transformed
by a simple invitation into Christian fellowship.
Let us be about the work of discipleship.
Let us share the joy that is in heaven
when but a single one of your lost and wandering children comes home. Amen.
To Illustrate
In the early, dry, dark of an October's Saturday evening, the neighborhood children are playing hide-and-seek. Did you ever have a kid in your neighborhood who always hid so good, nobody could find him? We did. After a while we would give up on him and go off, leaving him to rot wherever he was. Sooner or later he would show up, all mad because we didn't keep looking for him. And we would get mad back because he wasn't playing the game the way it was supposed to be played. There's hiding and there's finding, we'd say. And he'd say it was hide-and-seek, not hide-and-give-UP ... he's probably still hidden somewhere, for all I know.
As I write this, the neighborhood game goes on, and there is a kid under a pile of leaves in the yard just under my window. He has been there a long time now, and everybody else is found and they are about to give up on him over at the base. I considered going out to the base and telling them where he was hiding. And I thought about setting the leaves on fire to drive him out. Finally, I yelled, "GET FOUND, KID!" out the window.
-- Robert Fulghum, All I Really Need to Know, I Learned in Kindergarten (New York: BallantineBooks, 2004)
"Get found, kid!" is what Jesus is saying to each of the scribes and Pharisees, as he tells them these parables. Maybe they don't need to be found in the same sense as a person does who has wandered long and far from the ways of God. But they do still need to be found. They do still need that experience of repentance and forgiveness. We all do.
What the scribes and Pharisees have done that makes them equally lost is that they have too easily written off those others who are hiding. The scribes and Pharisees are like those who give up too easily and go home, leaving their fellow players shivering under their leaf piles. They've written them off as acceptable losses, then gone back home to tend to their own business.
***
There's one thing you'll find in most public organizations: a "Lost and Found." Whether it's in a shoebox or whether it fills an entire room, the Lost and Found contains a curious assortment of flotsam and jetsam. From trinkets to treasures, they're all there. Every last article was once valued by someone. Yet each one, through some mysterious circumstance, was left behind.
What's the story behind the pair of eyeglasses ... the single earring or sneaker without its mate ... the halfway-thumbed-through paperback novel? And what about the locket containing the photo of some unknown person?
Each item was lost, and each item was also found by some disinterested party who dutifully carried it to the proper authorities. We say the objects in the box have been "found" -- but they haven't really been found. The one person who knows their true value has not claimed them.
***
These Christians give themselves to this kind of humanity. Now we see what it is that makes them such powerful enemies of our gods. It is the love they manifest toward the stranger, the suffering and the poor.
-- Julian the Apostate, Roman Emperor
***
Sir William Osler was one of England's most famous medical doctors. During World War I he was working as a surgeon in a British military hospital. One day, Osler was called away from his rounds to receive the news that his own son had been killed in France. Of course, he was stunned by the news, but after only a moment he returned to the wards.
For days, the nurses and orderlies noticed that the cheerful tone was gone from Dr. Osler's voice; no longer did he whistle as he worked. It seemed that a change had come over him. Before, he had practiced medicine with an air of cool professionalism. But now, his colleagues could see -- in his eyes, his tone of voice, the way he laid a gentle hand on a patient's shoulder -- there was something new.
The new element was compassion. It was as though each soldier, lost in pain and fear, was Osler's own son. No longer were these soldiers abstract medical cases. They were lost sheep, and he was the shepherd.
***
My children are long past the age of taking delight in childhood games, but I remember hours in years past playing hide-and-seek together, even though it was a game they never quite learned to play according to the rules. In fact, I used to worry about my son. For years I couldn't get him to understand that he shouldn't yell "ready" when he'd found a good hiding place; that only gave it away. He was missing the whole point of the game, I explained. One wants to hide well! Only later did I come to realize that from his perspective, I had missed the whole point of the game. The most fun comes, of course, in being found! Meister Eckhart expressed this mystery well when he said that "God is like a person who clears his throat while hiding and so gives himself away." Even God -- perhaps especially God -- discovers the highest joy in hiding only so as to be found.
-- Belden C. Lane, The Solace of Fierce Landscapes (Oxford: University of Oxford Press, 1998), p. 179
God always offers a special welcome to those who are lost.
Old Testament Lesson
Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28
A Vision Of Cosmic Destruction
The prophet's vision grows exceedingly dark, as he forecasts first a strong wind that comes not to winnow or cleanse, but to destroy (vv. 11-12), and then a cosmic cataclysm that will snuff out the lights from the heavens, shake the mountains, drive off the birds of the air, and transform the fruitful land into a desert (vv. 22-26). "The whole land shall be a desolation," says the Lord; "yet I will not make a full end" (v. 27). The Lord has resolved to do this, and will neither relent nor turn back (v. 28). The Judeans were already facing the threat of invasion from Babylon. That represented for them a social cataclysm, but now the prophet raises the odds to a cosmic dimension. He wants to be absolutely sure his readers understand that there is no escaping the divine retribution he is forecasting. There is but one small ray of hope: the Lord's words "yet I will not make a full end" of verse 27. This is the basis for Jeremiah's theology of the remnant (see 23:3), whereby a small portion of the nation will be saved, to begin all over again.
New Testament Lesson
Timothy 1:12-17
First Among Sinners
This week begins a seven-week series of lessons from 1 and 2 Timothy. Although the two letters to Timothy claim Pauline authorship, it is extremely unlikely that they were written by Paul. Their date is far too late for that. They are examples of "pseudonymous epistles," documents authored by some latter-generation disciple of a leading thinker, who attempted to envision what sort of answer his mentor might give to contemporary problems. Pseudonymous authorship is a literary device, and is intended neither to deceive the reader nor to discredit the purported author. These are either second- or third-generation (not first-generation) Christian documents. Writing from the standpoint of Paul, and recalling Paul's former persecution of Christians, the author declares, "The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners -- of whom I am the foremost" (v. 15). To the true author of this epistle, and to others, the redeemed Paul is "an example to those who would come to believe in him for eternal life" (v. 16).
The Gospel
Luke 15:1-10
The Parable Of The Lost Sheep And The Lost Coin
In response to the objections of Pharisees that he welcomes sinners and eats with them (vv. 1-2), Jesus tells three parables. The third and longest of them is the parable of the prodigal son (see Fourth Sunday In Lent). Before this one, however, come two shorter parables, the parable of the lost sheep and the parable of the lost coin. The Pharisees were objecting to the company Jesus is keeping; his response is that these once-disreputable people were in fact lost, but have now been found, and that it is therefore appropriate to greet them with rejoicing. If one sheep out of a herd of one hundred becomes lost, the shepherd will leave the 99, and immediately go off in search of the one that has wandered off (vv. 4-7). This answer presupposes an agrarian society, in which flocks are relatively small and the relationship between sheep and shepherds is close; the loss of one animal is a serious matter, and besides, there is not much risk in leaving the rest of the flock for a brief time to locate the wanderer, which surely has not gone far. A modern agribusiness outlook, according to which a lost animal is a missing asset with cash value but not much else, changes the meaning of the parable considerably. In the parable of the lost coin, a woman loses one of ten silver coins within her house, and turns the house upside-down looking for it, rejoicing when it finally turns up (a silver coin in that society has considerable value, and is far more than mere "pocket change"). The important feature in all three of these stories (including the prodigal son) is the joyous reaction when that which is lost is finally found. That, Jesus is saying to the Pharisees, ought to be the reaction of devout Jews to those who have been apostate but have now returned.
Preaching Possibilities
Today's reading includes two brief parables of things that are lost, and later found: the lost sheep and the lost coin. It is instructive to read them as a set of not two parables, but three -- with the third one being the parable of the Prodigal Son that follows immediately after.
As with most of Jesus' parables, to truly understand this one we have to know its setting. Luke tells us Jesus is speaking to a bunch of scribes and Pharisees -- and not just any scribes and Pharisees. These are grumbling scribes and Pharisees. And what are they grumbling about? They are grumbling that "this fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them" (Luke 15:2).
The scribes and Pharisees don't appreciate that sort of behavior in a rabbi. This Jesus -- who seems to be saying everybody has to get right with God, even them -- rubs them the wrong way. Can it really serve God's purposes to celebrate God's welcome of sinners, without also emphasizing God's judgment?
Luke places these three parables where he does, in the narrative, in order to make an important point. God's radically inclusive welcome is by far the most important feature of the new order that Jesus is bringing in.
All three parables are about something -- or someone -- that's lost, and later found. First there's that dim-witted sheep that wanders off -- only to be found by an incredibly reckless shepherd who abandons the herd of 99 to fend for themselves while he goes looking. Next there's that single-minded but rather dense homemaker, who turns the house upside-down looking for a coin she lost through her own carelessness. Finally, there's that juvenile-delinquent son, who tells his father he despises everything he stands for, and storms out of the house -- only to come crawling back to the homecoming party of the century.
Each of these parables deeply offends the scribes and Pharisees. In each one, that which is lost hardly seems worth finding. One sheep out of 99? That's a tax write-off. One silver coin out of ten? Well, tough luck to lose any amount of cash, but one coin's hardly worth a block party when it's found. And as for that miserable excuse for a son? "Don't you know, some kids are just bad apples: better to just practice 'tough love' and let them go."
What bothers the scribes and Pharisees most about these parables is the ending. Each one has a similar, formulaic conclusion. After the lost sheep: "Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over 99 righteous persons who need no repentance" (15:7). After the lost coin: "Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents" (15:10). And after the prodigal son: "But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found" (15:32). There is joy, overwhelming joy at recovering that which had been lost and of no account.
The scribes and Pharisees are very pious people, strong believers, upstanding citizens, tithers -- the sort of person anyone would be honored to have move into the house next door. They're not like the questionable characters who populate these parables. Scribes and Pharisees don't generally make bad choices, or sink into self-destructive habits. They don't wander off lost. They don't lose track of precious coins. They don't mouth off to the old man, go out drinking, and end up in the gutter. No, these scribes and Pharisees fully imagine that when they arrive at heaven's gate, they will stroll over to the platinum frequent-flier check-in line, whip out their membership cards, and head right for first-class.
Are we so terribly different? Most of us take pride in who we are, and what we've accomplished in life. Most of us are not used to thinking of ourselves as "lost," in any sense of that word. Most of us, in our heart of hearts, cherish the secret belief that we really are just a little bit better than the vast majority of people we encounter each day.
Yet, Jesus sees us differently. To Jesus, we are all lost sheep. We are all misplaced coins, lying lonely in a dusty corner. And we are all, in our own way, prodigal sons and daughters -- despite our protestations to the contrary.
To us he says, "Welcome home!"
Prayer For The Day
Look into our hearts, O God --
for it is in those dark, mysterious recesses that you see most clearly.
You see our fears ...
you see our pride ...
you see our poisonous complacency.
Give us sharp eyes to see those around us
who so need to hear a kind word of encouragement,
or whose lives would be transformed
by a simple invitation into Christian fellowship.
Let us be about the work of discipleship.
Let us share the joy that is in heaven
when but a single one of your lost and wandering children comes home. Amen.
To Illustrate
In the early, dry, dark of an October's Saturday evening, the neighborhood children are playing hide-and-seek. Did you ever have a kid in your neighborhood who always hid so good, nobody could find him? We did. After a while we would give up on him and go off, leaving him to rot wherever he was. Sooner or later he would show up, all mad because we didn't keep looking for him. And we would get mad back because he wasn't playing the game the way it was supposed to be played. There's hiding and there's finding, we'd say. And he'd say it was hide-and-seek, not hide-and-give-UP ... he's probably still hidden somewhere, for all I know.
As I write this, the neighborhood game goes on, and there is a kid under a pile of leaves in the yard just under my window. He has been there a long time now, and everybody else is found and they are about to give up on him over at the base. I considered going out to the base and telling them where he was hiding. And I thought about setting the leaves on fire to drive him out. Finally, I yelled, "GET FOUND, KID!" out the window.
-- Robert Fulghum, All I Really Need to Know, I Learned in Kindergarten (New York: BallantineBooks, 2004)
"Get found, kid!" is what Jesus is saying to each of the scribes and Pharisees, as he tells them these parables. Maybe they don't need to be found in the same sense as a person does who has wandered long and far from the ways of God. But they do still need to be found. They do still need that experience of repentance and forgiveness. We all do.
What the scribes and Pharisees have done that makes them equally lost is that they have too easily written off those others who are hiding. The scribes and Pharisees are like those who give up too easily and go home, leaving their fellow players shivering under their leaf piles. They've written them off as acceptable losses, then gone back home to tend to their own business.
***
There's one thing you'll find in most public organizations: a "Lost and Found." Whether it's in a shoebox or whether it fills an entire room, the Lost and Found contains a curious assortment of flotsam and jetsam. From trinkets to treasures, they're all there. Every last article was once valued by someone. Yet each one, through some mysterious circumstance, was left behind.
What's the story behind the pair of eyeglasses ... the single earring or sneaker without its mate ... the halfway-thumbed-through paperback novel? And what about the locket containing the photo of some unknown person?
Each item was lost, and each item was also found by some disinterested party who dutifully carried it to the proper authorities. We say the objects in the box have been "found" -- but they haven't really been found. The one person who knows their true value has not claimed them.
***
These Christians give themselves to this kind of humanity. Now we see what it is that makes them such powerful enemies of our gods. It is the love they manifest toward the stranger, the suffering and the poor.
-- Julian the Apostate, Roman Emperor
***
Sir William Osler was one of England's most famous medical doctors. During World War I he was working as a surgeon in a British military hospital. One day, Osler was called away from his rounds to receive the news that his own son had been killed in France. Of course, he was stunned by the news, but after only a moment he returned to the wards.
For days, the nurses and orderlies noticed that the cheerful tone was gone from Dr. Osler's voice; no longer did he whistle as he worked. It seemed that a change had come over him. Before, he had practiced medicine with an air of cool professionalism. But now, his colleagues could see -- in his eyes, his tone of voice, the way he laid a gentle hand on a patient's shoulder -- there was something new.
The new element was compassion. It was as though each soldier, lost in pain and fear, was Osler's own son. No longer were these soldiers abstract medical cases. They were lost sheep, and he was the shepherd.
***
My children are long past the age of taking delight in childhood games, but I remember hours in years past playing hide-and-seek together, even though it was a game they never quite learned to play according to the rules. In fact, I used to worry about my son. For years I couldn't get him to understand that he shouldn't yell "ready" when he'd found a good hiding place; that only gave it away. He was missing the whole point of the game, I explained. One wants to hide well! Only later did I come to realize that from his perspective, I had missed the whole point of the game. The most fun comes, of course, in being found! Meister Eckhart expressed this mystery well when he said that "God is like a person who clears his throat while hiding and so gives himself away." Even God -- perhaps especially God -- discovers the highest joy in hiding only so as to be found.
-- Belden C. Lane, The Solace of Fierce Landscapes (Oxford: University of Oxford Press, 1998), p. 179
