Today's gospel lesson and those stories of loss that accompany it are all told following
the weeks of lessons we have heard on what is required in order to be a "good disciple." Last week you
may remember we were reminded that the cost involved is quite simple, it's everything. No one could have foreseen
at time just how prophetic those words would be.
No doubt at the end of all of those illustrations there were many who had been following who had given up so much,
who really believed with all their hearts that they had done their best, and who were at that very moment feeling
terribly discouraged,…like complete failures not knowing where to go next.
Hence Jesus gives the first two of three lessons on God's grace to those who are "lost."
To know the true meaning of loss one must first know the value of what has been misplaced, taken, or totally obliterated,
for in truth we can only lose that which has value to us. We lose so many things every day that go totally unnoticed
and un-mourned because we don't see that they have any particular worth,…moments of our lives, words left unspoken,
individuals not embraced, children not appreciated, actions not taken, opportunities squandered,…these things are
also lost!
In the aftermath of the events of this past week all need to ask ourselves who are the "lost"? Are they:
The victims of this disaster, trapped on
airplanes, buried beneath the rubble or
obliterated completely by the explosions and
the weight of the collapsing buildings?
Those who through some miracle of chance
or deliverance survived the holocaust, and
who now question why them and not me?
Those who continue to wait with fading hopes
that somehow a miracle allowed their loved
one to find a place to hide?
Those who hope instead that they will
suddenly wake up and discover this was all
some horrible nightmare?
Or are the "lost" those who perpetrated this horrible plot, those who hijacked and commandeered those
planes, or who those who dance in the streets and toss candy to innocent children who will smile and be filmed
and become the future victims of the hate they have unknowingly spawned?
Or are the "lost" those of us who once were found, who once knew better but who now find ourselves reverting
to old patterns of an "eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth" and it doesn't matter if the innocent
perish along with the guilty because after all…ours did?
It has been said that we now live in a different world than the one we woke up to just a few days ago. I'm not
so sure. Perhaps it is just that we had gotten so used to being the 99 sheep and the 9 coins that we never thought
that we could be the ones who would feel lost. Lost doesn't always mean "I don't know where I am" --it
can simply mean "I feel cut off from the others, and I don't feel safe any more."
The world lost something last Tuesday. Only time will tell whether we will find something as well. We lost the
sense that our homeland was a benign, friendly place where the harsh cruelties of the world couldn't touch us.
We lost the sense that normal life was dependable and safe. We lost the sense that our country was envied and loved
by everyone. We lost our sense of invulnerability. We lost our innocence.
Many will no longer look at fellow passengers on airlines without some suspicion, especially if they look like
they come from the Middle East. They will have a harder time being in big cities like NY and marveling at the tremendous
diversity of people from all over the world, celebrating the many different languages, different dress, music and
appearance. We will no longer be able to enjoy such crowds without a tinge of suspicion.
We lost our sense of peace. Our country is at war, so our newspapers and leaders proclaim, which by its very nature
destroys the peace and involves us all in an act of violence. The normal everyday comfortable peace of our daily
lives has been shattered. It has been "lost."
Sometimes, the only difference between being lost and finding the right path is whether or not we have a guide
who knows the way--even if, and perhaps particularly if, we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. It
is having the shepherd come and find us, having the woman search diligently until we are restored. The good news
in this time of so much bad news is that it is God's good pleasure and joy to find us when we are lost, to gently
lift us up, place us upon divine shoulders, and carry us home.
No matter how lost we are or how lost we feel, God will continue to search for us. The coin and the sheep are passive
in the parables, they don't even ask for the help they so desperately need yet the shepherd and the woman go and
search for them. How much more will God search for those of us who ask to be found.
And what must we find?
What should our response as Christians be to these events? Well, first, we must find a word of consolation for
the untold pain and suffering of our people. Congregations such as this one must offer their practical and pastoral
resources to bind up the wounds of the nation. We can become safe places to weep and secure places to begin rebuilding
our shattered lives and communities. Our houses of worship have become public arenas for common prayer, community
discussion, eventual healing, and forgiveness. It amazed many of us as clergy that people called us wondering about
where and when the prayer services would be held even before we had begun to formulate such thoughts ourselves.
The people of this nation turned instinctively to their faith, which is a very good thing.
Second, we must find a path of sober restraint as our nation discerns what its response will be. We all share the
deep anger toward those who so callously and massively destroyed innocent lives, no matter what the grievances
or injustices invoked. In the name of God, we too demand that those responsible for these utterly evil acts be
found and brought to justice. Those culpable must not escape accountability. But we must not, out of anger and
vengeance, indiscriminately retaliate in ways that bring on even more loss of innocent life. We must pray that
President Bush and the members of Congress will seek the wisdom of God as they decide upon the appropriate response.
Third, we must find a way to answer the deep and profound questions of what this attack on America will do to us
as a nation? Having taken thousands of our lives, attacked our national symbols, forced our political leaders to
flee their chambers of governance, disrupted our work and families, and struck fear into the hearts of our children,
the terrorists must feel victorious. The spirit that seeks to prevent such violence, and by strength to disarm
the perpetrator, is itself easily hijacked by the indiscriminate will for vengeance. We can deny them their victory
by finding a way to refuse to submit to a world created in their image.
We must not allow this terror to drive us away from being the people God has called us to be. We assert the vision
of community, tolerance, compassion, justice, and the sacredness of human life, which lies at the heart of all
religious traditions. America must be a safe place for all our citizens in all their diversity. It is especially
important that our citizens who share national origins, ethnicity, or religion with whoever attacked us, are themselves,
protected among us. It goes without saying that we should not take out our anger at loyal Americans and visitors
who share the heritage and features of the likely villains.
Fourth, we must find God in all of this. Those who did this evil deed no doubt think God asked them to and that
God will reward them for their acts of righteous vengeance. But they are wrong. God did not do this. God weeps
with us.
There is a story in Elie Weisel's book "Night" about an incident in a Nazi concentration camp in which
the whole company of men incarcerated there were required to watch the hanging of some of their number including
a boy in is early teens. The hanging was not done in that "quick" manner we are used to seeing in portrayals
of "wild west" executions in the movies. Rather, ropes were thrown over a beam, looped around the men's
necks, and other prisoners were required to haul them up into the hanging position.
The young boy, emaciated from lack of food, was not very heavy and, thus, his weight was insufficient to bring
him to a reasonably fast death. He hung there strangling, struggling and in obvious agony. The other prisoners
were required to watch until the last death throes. As they hung there dying, one of the concentration camp inmates
asked "Where is God?" Another pointed to the dying boy and said,
"There. There is God."
While watching and listening to the news of New York City, Washington, and Pennsylvania this story came to mind.
As I watched firemen, policemen, paramedics, construction workers, and volunteers of all sorts, dealing with all
the death and destruction, searching through the rubble for survivors or for the dead, I like many of you I'm sure
was asking "Where is God?
Where was God?"
Along with the visions of the shepherd searching for his sheep, the woman searching for her coin,…images of survivors
coming out of the buildings supporting one another, the stories of fire and rescue personnel rushing up the stairs
past fleeing people to their own deaths, and of rescue and recovery workers searching still blended together…and
I too heard the concentration camp inmate's voice saying,
"There. There is God."
As Christians, living in the turbulent world of the twenty-first century we are all too familiar with bloodshed
and violence, beginning the with death of a humble carpenter from Nazareth some 2000 years ago.
Jesus knew. As he approached Jerusalem, he wept, for he knew that it would reject the offer of peace he brought
it. And in so doing, he weeps for us, as our world cries out in anger in a spirit of vengeance over the butchery
enacted in the name of his Father.
In these parables the shepherd is a fool, the woman is a fool, and in the concluding one the father is a fool.
Jesus is teaching that God is a fool in the unconditional love that God expresses toward us. Who would send their
son to a group of crude and selfish people and let them kill him, in order that they might be saved? Loving those
who live on the margins of life is doing nothing more for them, but respecting them and inviting them to share
your life. It is expressing a conviction that nothing can alter.
During the time when Hitler was coming to power in Germany, a Lutheran pastor named William Wallner started serving
thousands of refugees in Prague. Among them was a young Jewish Christian named Karl Loes. Loes had been a leading
art and drama critic and was a powerful influence among university students. When Hitler invaded Czechoslovakia
Loes fled for his life and the Lutheran pastor lost track of him.
Toward the end of W.W.II, a group of underground fighters were discovered in a cellar and murdered by the Nazis.
On the wall were messages written in various languages by those who knew they were about to die. By coincidence
it was Wallner, the same Lutheran pastor who was asked to translate them. One was a simple poem that read: "I
believe in the sun when it is not shining. I believe in love, when I do not feel it. I believe in my Lord, Jesus,
even when he is silent." It was signed, "Karl Loes."
The final verse of Amazing Grace is rarely sung anymore but the words express the same sure and certain hope of
where our true deliverance lies:
The earth shall soon dissolve like snow,
The sun forbear to shine;
But God, who call'd me here below,
Will be forever mine.
We have lost many things, but we will find something new! It is the fundamental truth of our faith that Easter
follows good Friday. God will seek us out and lift us from the dust and ashes of our apparent defeat, will find
us in the rubble and raise us up to soar again.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
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