Found

Below is an excerpt from a sermon that I preached this past Sunday. The seeds for this sermon were planted many years ago in my introductory preaching class!

————

Driving down the highway through rural North Carolina I looked out my passenger seat window:

LINCOLN COUNTY DEPARTMENT OF CORRECTIONS painted the side of a yellow school bus.

The windows were tinted on the bottom half but I saw one dark hand holding on to the wire above the window. I couldn’t see a face but that hand drew me in. How many other hands were inside that bus? Where were they headed? From where had they come?

I wondered if the person attached to that hand could see my face looking up at him. I decided he could, so I searched to meet someone’s eyes. I saw only darkness. And yet, I smiled. I waved.

One hand waved back. Within seconds every window had a hand rise above the tinted glass. Waving.

Humans crying out to be found.

I was carried away by the joy of those waves. By the elation of connection with strangers. Quickly the joy faded and the anger set in: Who decided that the glass would be tinted? Who decided that I shouldn’t be able to see these faces? Is this supposed to make me feel safe? It didn’t.

Safety is not a Christian virtue.

I heard this during a sermon preached at a conference many years ago. I was shocked. Even a little incredulous. How could this be true?!

Now, I’m not talking about the safety of someone immediately following harm or trauma. Getting someone in crisis to safety is certainly central. I’m talking about the low-level, pervasive obsession with safety. Because elevating that kind of safety implies a worldview where other humans are seen first and foremost as a threat. We have a cultural obsession with this kind of safety because we are taught fundamentally to be wary of each other.

This is not a Christian virtue.

Jesus did not say “blessed are the safe.” He didn’t tell His disciples to love their neighbors, but only as long as it’s safe. He gathered together an eclectic bunch of all different people and said this—THIS—is the Kingdom of Heaven.

Yes, we must take necessary precautions to be safe. We must be considerate of others and their needs. We must be kind to ourselves and feel safe to flourish. But, if we promote safety as the chief virtue above all else, we miss Christ’s call to radical community.

Let’s turn now to two of Jesus’s parables in Luke.

Luke 15:1-10:

Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to Jesus. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”

So Jesus told them this parable: “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? And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my lost sheep.’ Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.

“Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? And when she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”

The Pharisees and Scribes were drawing in and grumbling: “This guy welcomes sinners and eats with them!” I imagine Jesus overheard these complaints and felt the spying eye of people wondering what he was up to. This was probably a big crowd. Jesus has the spotlight. What does he say?!

Like he often did, Jesus told stories. We are told that a gathering of tax collectors and sinners were around him, so we know it’s an eclectic group. Jesus told a story about the nature of God to this diverse crowd. 

Jesus asked the crowd gathered, and asks us today, to imagine losing something precious to us. Can you picture a shepherd, with a huge flock in a field, overcome by panic as he’s doing his final count and realizes one sheep is missing? Can you see the grief and shock on his face? Do you picture him counting, recounting, and counting one last time just to make sure he hasn’t made a mistake?

Can you picture a woman—or maybe you picture yourself—tearing apart her house looking for her precious coin?

Think, right now, of a time you lost something important. Or what it might feel like to lose something special. You’d search in a panic! Like the shepherd and woman here, we all know that feeling of grief and panic as we search. Followed by the joy and celebration of what we’ve found. 

But here, I think Jesus wanted us to see ourselves not as the shepherd or the woman cleaning her house, but as the precious object to be found. We are lost to someone, and the object of their search.

It is God who treasures every single person. God who seeks us and to know us better. God who rejoices with us when we realize that we have always been “found.” 

Jesus is clear in these parables that those on the fringes of society are integral to what community in its fullness should be. Until they are found—until we are all found—the community is incomplete. When one person in our community goes missing we are incomplete until they are found. These parables show us the joy of forgiveness and restoration. Of healing and reunion. 

We are all lost. We are all sought. We are all being found by God and by each other.

Text copyright © 2024 Grace Woodward. All rights reserved.