Transcript
May I speak in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Please be seated.
Have you ever felt lost? And I don’t mean missing your exit on the highway kind of lost or realizing your glasses have been perched on your head the whole time kind of lost. I mean another kind of lost. Maybe something more from the heart. Can you think back to a time when you felt lost? I imagine all of us somewhere on the road of life have felt that.
But there is also the other side of being found. Have you ever felt found? My hope is that we all have. The joy of being welcomed in when a hand reaches out in hope and you feel a peace as you’re reminded that you belong.
You see, that’s the very scene we find in today’s gospel. Here’s how Luke sets the scene. Luke says, “All the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to Jesus.” Who knows in their own ways how they might have felt lost because Luke adds that they were grumbling. There was grumbling there. This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them. The others said, “Perhaps Jesus though knew what they truly were lost for. Lost for a place at the table. Lost for love. There then must have been something so wonderful, something so lifegiving about being near Jesus, something about his grace that found its way to them at the table.
Then Jesus tells a parable, actually two parables. First, there’s the shepherd and one sheep has been lost. one out of 100 leaving 99. Now, if you get a 99 out of 100 on a quiz, you still get an A, right? But the shepherd went looking for the sheep, our good shepherd. He leaves the 99 and sets out into the wilderness, Luke says. Let’s imagine it. our good shepherd climbing over hills and mountains in that wilderness because one sheep matters too much to let go. The shepherd searches, he searches until the sheep is back in his sight. But it doesn’t end there because when he finds it, he lifts the sheep upon his shoulders, carries it home, and his joy can’t be contained. So he calls his neighbors, gathers his friends and says, “Rejoice with me.”
Then Jesus tells of a woman who lost a single coin, one out of 10. She could have said, “What’s one coin?” and let it go. But instead, she lights a lamp, sweeps the house, searches every corner carefully until she finds it. And when she does, she too calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, “Rejoice with me.”
Here is the heart of today’s gospel. Here’s what it’s all about. These parables aren’t about us finding God. They’re about God finding us. Because God is not a passive watcher far away, arms folded, waiting for us to find our way. God is like the shepherd striding into the wilderness with us. God is like the woman lighting a lamp in the dark to find us. God is love itself in pursuit, searching, sweeping, seeking to find us again each new day.
And because that is so, because the love of God never stops searching, if we are to follow Jesus, then the church’s ministry is about finding and being found. finding glimpses of grace in the lives of others to be found by grace time and time again. That is what we are called to as the body of Christ. On this last Sunday with you, I give thanks for the ways of finding and being found we have shared here at St. John’s. Like the shepherd and the sheep, like the woman and the coin, I have witnessed God’s finding love here among you.
I have seen it in baptism on Pentecost. Little saints found by water and the spirit and us all finding joy in welcoming them. I have seen it at the grave site. When grief passed heavy, yet we proclaimed allelujah, found again by the promise of resurrection life. I have seen it in confirmation class and over cups of coffee. When questions tumbled out and wonder cracked open, there we found God meeting us and we were found in the light of new understanding. I have seen it at summer lunches where neighbors in need found nourishment and we found Christ together in them over sandwiches and fellowship. I have seen it here in worship and bread broken and wine poured and our voices rising together in song and Sunday joy, grace upon grace.
And I too have felt it finding me, inviting me to be found for a time with you. You have been a part of God’s finding for me, and I hope that I have in return. Friends in Christ, today carries the bitter sweetness of farewell. For me it is stepping away from this pulpit, these pews and this particular way of walking with you as a curate. And in that stepping away, you will continue into a new season of ministry as St. John’s has faithfully done for over 400 years.
Yet even in the farewell, God does not pause when seasons shift. Our good shepherd does not lay down the staff. God does not extinguish the lamp. And as we say farewell, we know God will always be our guide even now as we follow different paths. That is the promise of our faith and it is true.
So as I close St. John’s, I want to say thank you deeply. Thank you with so much rejoicing. Thank you for this chapter of ministry we have shared. Thank you to your new recctor, Lisa. And thank you to each and every one of you. To have been a part of your congregation’s story for a season has been a tremendous blessing. And for that blessing indeed, I will always give thanks.
God has such marvelous things in store for you. So go forth for God, St. John’s, to find and be found in Jesus’s name. And as you do with a full heart, I offer you this blessing now.
May the Lord bless you and keep you. May the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you. May the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace. Amen.