The Very Rev. Penelope Bridges
The Hebrew prophets have been pretty hard on us all summer, and Jeremiah continues the gloomy trend today. He describes a hot wind, a wind of destruction, a metaphor for the pending national disaster of conquest by the Babylonian Empire. Jeremiah sees a reversal of creation: the earth waste and void, light extinguished, the comforting stability of the mountains shaken, creatures and crops wiped out. It is a terrifying vision of inevitable catastrophe, one brought on by the people themselves who have forgotten how to live as God’s beloved, who have gained knowledge without the essential corrective of wisdom.
We can relate on several levels to the destruction wrought by that hot wind. As extreme weather becomes ever more common and the direst predictions of scientists are fulfilled, we are reaping the whirlwind of our abuse of earth’s resources. Jeremiah could not have imagined the degree of destruction human beings would one day visit upon the earth in our craving for wealth, convenience, and power. The most horrifying, most cataclysmic event he could think of was if the divine story of Creation as told in Genesis were to be reversed, God’s word destroying rather than creating, the promise of life transformed to a death sentence.
Jeremiah wrote at a time when his people were anticipating a national crisis. We have our own experience of such crises. Just this week we commemorated the 24th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, and for many of us this nation is currently in the midst of a crisis of democracy, with politically-motivated violence and even assassinations becoming more common. Where is God in this mess? Are we perhaps experiencing the absence of God’s grace and mercy from this country, suffering the consequences of our own actions, as Jeremiah’s people did? Are we even now going through the kind of world-changing event that will force us to make radical changes to our lives, just as Jeremiah and his people had to?
Millions of people are finding their lives changed due to no fault of their own, as grants are withheld, vaccine programs are ended, federal agencies are slashed, and random arrests result in deportation. Jeremiah used the metaphor of a destructive, hot wind for the onslaught of invading armies; we might apply that metaphor to current political dynamics.
And yet, the words God puts in Jeremiah’s mouth stop short of total destruction, because God’s compassion and mercy will not allow God to undo this great and good work of creation; in the midst of desolation God will allow hope to stay alive.
As Christians, we turn to Jesus for words of hope, and in Luke’s Gospel we will find what we seek. Mention chapter 15 of Luke to any Biblical scholar and they will immediately think of the Prodigal Son, whose story immediately follows and expands on these two short parables of the lost and found. Jesus is speaking to the leaders of his community, who complain that Jesus is hanging out with all the wrong people. One minute Jesus is attending a posh dinner party with Pharisees, the next he is slumming it with tax collectors and sinners. Jesus’ oblique response to their grumbling is to tell stories: of the shepherd who doesn’t rest until he has brought home the lost sheep, of the woman who scours the house until she finds that silver coin.
The grumblers make several errors of judgment. They condemn a group of people based on their way of making a living, disregarding the complexity of every human being. They call others sinners, without having the humility to acknowledge that they themselves are sinners, simply because they are human. And they grumble amongst themselves, rather than having the courage to speak directly to Jesus about their concerns.
Who are the lost in these stories? Are they the tax collectors and sinners? Or are they perhaps the Pharisees and scribes? Where do you place yourself in this story? Can you identify with the people who were disturbed by the company Jesus kept? Or do you see yourself as the lost sheep or coin? Are you one of the 99 sheep that were left alone in the wilderness while the shepherd went off to find the foolish wanderer? Or are you one of the friends and neighbors who joyfully accept the invitation to the party?
Note that the wayward sheep and coin are not required to repent before being brought home with rejoicing. The first order of business is to welcome them and celebrate their return.
In the end, the welcome home party is really the point of all these stories. Rejoice with me, God says, for I have found the one who was lost. All come together to celebrate the repairing of the community, for when one is lost, the body is incomplete and broken. In times of anxiety, of uncertainty and division, Jesus offers us these words of hope: that no matter how lost we feel, God will never give up on the effort to bring us home. We don’t have to go looking for God, because God is always looking for us.
Each individual, whether Pharisee or tax collector, saint or sinner, is precious in God’s sight and an integral part of the body; and on the last day, when the new Creation comes to its fruition and death is finally defeated, all shall be welcomed home to the heavenly banquet, outcasts and in-crowd sitting cheek by jowl at God’s table. That is the good news of the Gospel.
Today, on Homecoming Sunday, we welcome a new member to God’s family through baptism, and we anticipate God’s happy ending as we welcome all to the spiritual banquet of Holy Communion. And we come together as one, to celebrate the God who goes the extra mile to bring us home, the faith community that is our spiritual home, and the blessing of being found, reunited, and unconditionally loved. Welcome home, St. Paul’s. Amen.
