Sermon - September 12, 2010

16th Sunday in Pentecost – Year C
Luke 15:1-10; I Timothy 1:12-17

Reclaimed by God

Quick little survey here. This morning’s Gospel lesson is all about the differences between those who are not a part of the flock and those who are, and who always have been. In order to move forward, we sorta need to know how many would fit the description of the ninety-nine and how many would be more like the one. So here is the question – would you self-describe as someone who has been a life-long member of the Church, or do you consider yourself to be a rather recent addition to the Family of God?

It is going to be more difficult for those in the latter group to get up the courage to raise their hands, so let’s start with the former. Show of hands – how many of you have been members of the Church for as long as you can remember? I am certainly in this group; as is all of family, including practically all of my in-laws. The only one in our family who might not lay hold to such a claim is my brother-in-law. He went as a child, was baptized, he thinks. But it was when he started dating my sister that he participated in adult catacuminate. Raise those hands one more time – most of us, as we would suspect.

Okay, you have had a few moments to get your courage up. And, I would point out to you that you are going to be darlings of the day, how many of you came to the Church, came to Christianity as an adult? Are there any? I won’t point at you or call you by name. How many do we have? Not that many. All the statistics in the world with regard to church membership can’t overcome the reality that for the most part, we spend our days shifting the ninety-nine from one congregation to another.

A quick reflection on the results of our extremely limited, multi-flawed survey sends shivers up my spine. With the vast majority of us fitting into the category of the ninety-nine sheep that have remained securely within the flock, we are forced to acknowledge that Jesus’ contemporary hearers are pretty much in the same category as his initial hearers. As with the original telling, Jesus is reminding those who experience the security of being neatly tuck away not to forget how they got there or what it is that allowed them to get there.

Getting there; being there is a good thing. But sometimes those who are there begin to look down their noses at those who are not.

The lectionary is actually going to skip over the next parable in Luke’s Gospel, the parable of the Prodigal Son. That parable contains a line that needs to be heard as we review today’s parables. When the elder brother’s nose gets out of joint over the joy expressed by the father at the return of the lost son, the father assures him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.” Today’s parables and their talk of the joy associated with the return of one who was lost, should never be taken to mean that those who are securely tucked into the fold are somehow less a part of the shepherd’s heart. They are at the very core of that heart which is large enough to welcome back the one who had previously strayed.

We are, for the most part, the ninety-nine who never stray. We are the coins which remain safely tucked inside the purse. There is something warm and wonderful about being snug as a bug in a rug. So long as that bug doesn’t begin to make it uncomfortable for others. So long as that snug status does not contribute to a smug attitude. So long as we remember how it is that we came to find a place and acknowledge how it is the reason why we remain.

Typically, the second reading for the day isn’t connected to the Gospel reading. These are selected independently of one another. This week, I do think there is a connection. The connection consists of Paul’s powerful presentation of how it is that he came to be a part of the fold. He is the one who was separated from the others. Boy, was he separated. He was even actively persecuting those who were in the fold. Then, somewhere, somehow Christ reached out to him, found him, placed him upon his shoulders and brought him to where the others were waiting.

Paul says, in his letter to Timothy, “I am grateful to Christ Jesus, our Lord, who has strengthened me … even though I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence. But I received mercy.” “I received mercy.”

Paul had no right to be included. He, of all persons, could have been severely beaten by those who were tucked away, snug as a bug. God’s grace; God’s mercy extended to cover all that other stuff and made it possible for him to be invited in.

Where would the ninety-nine be without this one who came to join us? Much poorer in our understanding of what it means to be follower of Jesus. There is nothing wrong (there is something wonderful) about being the ninety-nine, about being snuggled away in God’s house – so long as we don’t make it difficult for others to join us, when they find themselves being carried into fold.

My wife has this dog. It is a rather big dog. She got him when I wasn’t around. He was a rescue, abandoned and starving. When I protested she told me, “You are the one who is always gone. I need the companionship and the protection of this dog.” She has a point. The two of them have developed a pretty tight bond. Shortly after the dog was acquired, I went on a trip. When I came home, I discovered that he had become fond of sleeping in the bed – in my portion of the bed.

“I will only let him do that when you are gone,” Laura assured me. Well, you can imagine how long that rule was obeyed.

I didn’t mind too much. Until the night when he got a bit too far over into my space, I went to move him, and he let out a low growl.

He seemed to have forgotten how it was that he came under the shelter of my roof, grew fat on my table scraps, and then managed to get invited into the comfort of my bed. He has lost his gratitude and had begun to take his place for granted.

Like Laura’s dog, those of us who have been here every Sunday for years, can come too close to forgetting too.

We are not here because we built the house. We are not here because we have swept the floors and turned on the lights. We are here because God has shown mercy, to us, too.

The Pharisees and scribes had forgotten. It had been so long, their initial inclusion was a thing of ancient history. “Mercy” was no longer their by-word.

Paul understood that the lost sheep and the misplaced coin have no power to return. They must be sought after, looked for, found, picked up, and carried to the place where they belong. It is not of their own doing. It happens as a result of God’s activity. The same way it happened and/or happens for you and me.

Amen.