Women at the Well

Sometimes when I work on a sermon, I come across stuff that's just sooo good.  In one of the on-line lectionary discussions I frequent, someone posted this video of a dramatic monologue of the woman at the well.

If you watch thie video, try this link.

I just had to share!

If the Human Body Is Mostly Water, Can Jesus Change Us into Wine?

Scripture Reading:  John 2:1-11

I’ve heard this story many times.  And I’ve always had this image in my head of Jesus and his mother standing in the kitchen with those jars nearby, talking to the servants, with the disciples maybe hanging around in the doorway.

I’ve always pictured Jesus standing there watching the servants fill the jars.  But as I heard this story again and again, I have a slightly different picture.

There’s a wedding feast in Cana.  Jesus’ mother is there.  So is Jesus.  And Andrew, Simon Peter, Phillip, Nathanael, the unnamed/beloved disciple. 

It’s a party.  They are moving around, visiting, chatting, enjoying the festivities.

Jesus’ mother overhears two servants talking.  One says, “This is the last of the wine.  I don’t know what we’ll do.”

She grabs the servant, “Come with me.  I know what to do.”

She finds Jesus, over with a group, telling stories, enjoying the wedding feast.  It’s a party after all.

She tells Jesus the problem.  Jesus hedges a bit, but she’s undeterred.  “Do whatever he tells you.”

Jesus tells the servant, “Fill the big stone jars to the brim.”

The servant leaves Jesus and gathers a few other servants to help.  The servant knows this is a big job –they just filled those jars a few days before for the purification rituals to prepare for the wedding.

Now the jars were empty - or nearly so.

It’s a lot of water – 20 to 30 gallons, six jars.  120-180 gallons of water. 

And it’s not like the servants just took a pitcher to the sink.  No, they would have to take water jugs to the town well.  There would have been walking to and from the well.  Several trips.  Carrying heavy water jugs.  Drawing the bucket up and down in the well to fill each jug.  Pouring the water into the stone jars. 

Repeat.

Until all six jars were full

I imagine at least one of the servants grumbled at the task.  “What do we need all this water for?  The purification was done days ago!  I have other things I’m supposed to be doing.  What a crazy guest asking for this.”

Finally, the jars are filled. 

The servant goes back out into the party to find Jesus.  “Sir, the jars are full.”

“Well then, take some to the steward.”  Jesus says, and turns back to the group he was talking with.

By the time the chief steward takes that first sip, the water has become wine.

You know, we don’t know when that happened.  Was it when the servants poured the water into the jars?  When the jars were full?  When the servant went back to Jesus to tell him the jars were ready?  When the steward took that first sip?

We don’t know.

All, the gospel writer tells us is that the steward was amazed at the quality of the wine.  That he questions the bridegroom about serving such excellent wine so late in the party, never realizing that the bridegroom has no idea what he’s talking about.

That the disciples know what happened, and they believe.

I’m struck by the process in this miracle – the first of Jesus’ signs. 

There’s no one way Jesus does his miracles.  Sometimes he just speaks and it’s so:

·         Demon, leave her

·         Rise, take up your mat and walk

·         Lazarus come out

·         Go, your faith has made you well

Sometimes he touches and it’s so:

·         Laying his hand on the sick

·         Taking dirt, spitting on it to make mud, and placing it on the blind man’s eyes

·         Taking bread and fish and blessing them

·         Or even being touched, like when the women touched the hem of his robe

Jesus didn’t lay his hands on the stone jars, or say “Water become wine!” Jesus invited the servants to be part of this sign.   And while they were doing what Jesus told them to do, - simply doing what servants do - a miracle happened.

In confirmation this week, we talked about this story.  One thing about confirmation students – they see things you and I would never think of.

Jesus turned water to wine?  Hmmm.   “If the human body is 60% water, and Jesus turns water into wine, does that mean that Jesus turns us into wine?”

I’ll admit the question caught me off guard and I had to think for a minute. 

Then I asked, “What would it look like if Jesus did turn us into wine?”

The kids looked puzzled.  One of them said, “That would be disgusting!”

I tried again:  “Think about it.  Jesus turned plain ordinary water into the best wine that chief steward ever tasted.  So how would Jesus turn us plain-ordinary-water-people into wine?”

They answered me:  “He’d make us holy people.”

Holy people.

Water into wine.

How does Jesus turn us into wine?

We could point to our baptism.  That’s certainly where it starts.

Water poured.

Words spoken.

Ordinary water combined with the promise of God that cleanses us, names us child of God, transforms us.

Ordinary-water-people become holy-wine-people

How does Jesus turn us into wine?

We could point to those moments we share each Sunday

·         In the hearing of the word

·         The confession, prayer, hymns

·         Communion - when the wine of Christ blood become our water quenching our thirst, and the bread of Christ’s body becomes the food that nourished our souls.

Those are moments when the living water is poured into our hearts, filling us to the brim.

But I think a big part of Jesus turning us into wine are those moments we can’t specifically point to.  Those ordinary moments, where we’re just doing trying to do what Jesus says.   When we’re simply doing those things we do.  Even when we might be grumbling, or thinking, this is crazy.

·         The ordinary moments of living

·         The doing whatever Jesus says

·         Every day

·         Everywhere

You know, I’ve always found something strange about this first miracle.  Water to wine.  At a party. 

Somehow it always seemed a little frivolous to me. 

Healing lepers, making the blind see, calming the storm, feeding 5000, raising the dead – now THOSE are miracles.

I’ve overlooked the point.  The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, blessing the everyday in’s and out’s of life, making the ordinary holy, blessing our relationship and giving us life abundant.

A life full of love and grace and joy – just like a cup that overflows with the best, sweetest wine.

The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.  The Word became flesh and has shown us a God of abundant love who invites us to dip into jars filled with living water, and tell us to give this sweet wine of grace to the world.

Jesus, fill our ordinary-water-hearts and make us holy-wine-people.

Rabbi? Messiah? Son of God? King?

Sermon Text:  John 1:35-51 


I can’t believe it’s only been two days.  So much has happened.  So much has changed.

Yesterday, Andrew and I were standing by the Jordan with John.  It was so early that the usual crowds had only begun to trickle in.  We were talking when suddenly John turns and points and says, "See!  Look there! 

That one!  Here is the Lamb of God.”

The day before, John had pointed him out – The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world,

• -        who comes to reconcile all people with God, 

• -        who comes to restore God’s reign of justice and peace, 

• -        who comes to show us God’s will. 

The one upon the Spirit of God descended and remains, who will baptize with that same Holy Spirit.

Now…here he was, walking by us.  John looked as us as if to say, “What are you waiting for?”

So we followed.

Jesus turned and saw us, looked at us as if he was looking deep into our souls.  “What are you looking for?”  he asked.

What were we looking for?  I don’t know if we knew.  I still don’t know if I know for sure what I’m looking for.  All I knew then was that I had to find out more about this man John called the Lamb of God.

We asked the only thing we could think of, “Rabbi, where are you staying?”

Jesus understood, maybe even more than we did, what we were asking.  Jesus knew we were really asking, “Be our Teacher.  Let us follow you.  Let us go where you go, stay where you stay.”

Jesus said, “Come and see.”

We went with him.  And as he taught us, as we talked with him, we began to see just what John meant.  Andrew was so excited that he had to run and get his brother Simon.

“Simon, Simon -Come and see – We have found the Messiah!”

Simon came.  Jesus saw him, looked at him as if he was looking deep into Simon’s soul, and said, “Simon, son of John,  I shall call you Cephas.

Now the Gospel writer translated Cephas for his readers – in Greek, it’s Peter.  I shall translate it for you – in English the closest would be Rocky.

John laughed – Jesus had hit the nail right on the head.  Simon Peter was a rock - strong, immovable, stubbornly loyal. 

That was yesterday.  This morning, Jesus decided to go to Galilee.  Andrew, and Peter and I, new disciples that we were, followed him.  We weren’t sure why we were going to Galilee.  We were sure we wanted to go where ever Jesus went.

Turns out, Jesus was seeking those who were seeking him.  Yesterday we thought we had found the Messiah.  Today, we realized that the Messiah had found us.  Just as he found Phillip today, inviting him:

                “Come and see.

                “Follow me.”

Phillip came and saw.  Like Andrew, Phillip became so excited he just had to find Nathanael.  “Nathanael, Nathanael! Come and see!  We have found the One written about in the Law and the Prophets.  “Come and see Jesus from Nazareth.”

Right then, the only thing Nathanael could only see was that Phillip was excited about someone from Nazareth of all places!  He scoffed, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?”

Nathanael’s skepticism didn’t faze Phillip.  “Come and see.”

Nathanael came.  Jesus saw him, really looked at him as if he was looking deep into his soul, and said, “Nathanael, you are a straight shooter.  You say what you think.  An honest man.”

Nathanael just looked at Jesus.  “How do you know me? “

Jesus said, “I saw you under the fig tree waiting for Phillip.”

And right then and there, Nathanael saw what we were beginning to see:  “You are the Son of God, the King of Israel!”

Jesus smiled at him.  “All it took was to change your mind about something good coming from Nazareth was for me to tell you I saw you under the fig tree?   Just wait!  You will see – you all will see - even greater signs.”

“Come and see.  Follow me.  Abide with me.

“And you will see heaven met earth, and angels ascending and descending on the Son of Man.” 

I’m not really sure what Jesus meant by that.  Angels ascending and descending sounds a lot like the story about Father Jacob when he was fleeing from his brother Esau and spent the night in the wilderness.  In his dream, he saw a ladder to heaven with angels ascending and descending.  He realized that this place where he slept was the house of God – a place where God dwelt on earth.

Angels descending and ascending on the Son of Man?  That would mean the Son of Man is a place where God lives!

Does that mean – mean that God dwells in Jesus?  That God lives among us in human form?  

That’s too incredible to believe!

That's dangerous to believe...

I still have a lot of questions.  I don’t understand everything Jesus is saying. 

But that’s alright – Jesus has asked me to come and see.  Jesus has found me and invited me to follow him.  To remain with him.

I’m sure I’ll have my questions answered.  And if Jesus continues to say things like things, I’m sure I’ll have even more questions.  

Rabbi, Messiah.

Son of God, Son of Man,

King of Israel, written about in the Law and Prophets

Lamb of God.

I still want to find out more.

Up a Tree: A sermon for All Saints

Readings for this Sunday: Genesis 28:10-17, Psalm 149, Ephesians 1:11-23, Luke 19:1-10

Have you ever been found yourself up a tree? 

If you look up the expression “up a tree,” you’ll discover it means ‘confused, without an answer to a problem, or in difficulty.”  Well… it also could mean intoxicated, but we’ll concentrate on the first definition.

Zaccheus definitely found himself up a tree.  My guess is that he was up a tree long before he climbed up that sycamore tree.

We know that Zaccheus lived in Jericho and he was a tax collector – a leader of tax collectors.  Jericho was a busy trade town and the tax collecting business was good.  Zaccheus was wealthy and influential – at least among the other tax collectors. 

He didn’t have much influence around the other folks in Jericho.  Tax collectors were hated.  We get that – tax collectors are not much liked these days either.  But it was a bit different back then.  The taxes were paid, not to the local government, or the king, but to Rome.  It was a convoluted system with lots of fingers in the pie taking their cut, but basically the way it worked was this:  Rome would say how much a local area needed to pay in taxes, and then tax collectors would bid on the contracts.  Rome would award a contract to the collector who said he could get the most above Rome’s stated tax.  He would take a cut, and Rome would get their tax plus the extra.

Needless to say, this did not make the tax collectors very popular.  They were considered little more than thieves, and collaborators with Rome, and sinners.  Their very profession put them on the outside of Jewish community, and presumably outside of God’s love.

He was on the outside looking in.  He was up a tree.

Was that what made him go see Jesus that day?  The news that Jesus had just healed a blind beggar outside of Jericho must have travelled through the city like wildfire.  People poured out into the streets to see this preacher/teacher/healer/prophet.  Was it just idle curiosity that enticed Zaccheus to brave the crowds?  Did a sense that there was something missing in his life which leads him to follow the crowds?  Did his longing to be part of the community once again impel him to seek a place in the crowd?    

Whatever it was, he soon found himself literally up a tree – trying to catch a glimpse of Jesus over the crowds.  And while we will never know his motivation, we know what happened.

Jesus met him, right where he was.  Zaccheus thought he needed to climb up to see Jesus, but Jesus was ready to meet him on his own turf – his very own house. 

Suddenly we discover a whole bunch of other people who are up a tree – confused, without an answer to the problem of why Jesus would want to associate with such a sinner.  The crowd begins to grumble – “I can’t believe Jesus said that!”  “Doesn’t he know who Zaccheus is?”  “Jesus, really, you’re going to eat with one of the worst sinners in town.” 

Jesus calls them down out of their trees too: “This man is a child Abraham, salvation has come to his house.  Stop dividing the world in between those worthy of God’s love and those not – everyone is worthy of God’s love.  Stop tallying up points “Your sin is so much worse than my little sin.”  Sin is sin.  Everyone sins and falls short of God’s glory.  But it’s ok because God has sent me to seek and save those lost to sin, even you, even Zaccheus.”

There’s something interesting in Zaccheus’ response to the crowds accusation.  He says, “I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have defrauded anyone, I repay them four times the amount.”  I know the translation we read says, “will give” and “will repay”, but the Greek doesn’t say ‘will.’     If we drop the ‘will’, Zaccheus is responding to the crowd’s accusation that he is a sinner – he gives to the poor, he fulfills the law and then some. 

So often we hear this story and think, this encounter with Jesus changed the bad tax collector’s heart and he repented of his evil ways and Jesus forgave him, and he was saved. 

And that’s certainly a valid way to look at the story.  But stories often have a deeper level and more than one meaning. 

What if this is not a forgiveness story, but a healing story.  There was a son of Abraham, a child of God, whom the community judged unworthy of God’s grace and mercy.  And God came down to them – all of them – and loved them, the unworthy one and the judging ones.  And God’s love called them down out of the trees that isolated them.  God’s love healed the broken hearts of the unworthy ones and the judging ones and in doing so, healed the heart of the community.

We all spend some time up a tree.  

Sometimes, we know our danger, scrambling up the tree for safety.  

Sometimes, like Zaccheus, we sense there’s something we need or something we’re missing, somethings just not right and maybe the tree will give us a fresh perspective and a better look. 

  Sometimes, like the crowd, we don’t even see the problem, or notice our sin and brokenness, don’t even realize that we’re us a tree, even as the branches become uncomfortable and twigs poke us.

What kind of tree are you up?

Jesus meets you there, waiting to heal, to forgive, to restore.

Hear Jesus call – Child of God, come down.  I have come to meet you at the table, in the bread and the wine.  Salvation comes to this house today, to this gathered community of saints who are also sinners comes healing and grace.   

The Promise

When Abram was already an old man – 75 years old, God called him to take his wife Sarai and his possessions and travel away from his family and country.  Travel to a new land God would give to Abram and his descendants.

But Abram had no descendants.  He had sheep and goats and tents and servants, but he and Sarai were childless.  Still he packed up and left his father and family because he trusted in God’s promise

God said, I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.  I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed." (Genesis 12:2-3)

A year passed.

Two years passed.

Most of a decade passed.

Abram was living in the land God promised.  Abram and his wife Sarai and their many tents, and hundreds of servants, and great flocks lived in the land and grew very wealthy indeed.  But they still had no child.

Abram looking over all his wealth thought that perhaps he would need to adopt his chief servant, Eliezer as his heir.  Perhaps that would be the way God fulfilled his promise – through adoption.

One night he was out looking at the stars, and wondering if God remembered the promise, and if Eliezer would have to be his heir.  Then God spoke to him, “Look at the stars and count them – if you can!  That’s how many descendants you will have – from your son.  Your son will be your heir, not your servant, and I will keep my promise through him.

And Abram stared up at the stars – so many stars.  And he trusted God’s promises.

Another year passed.

Maybe two.

It was now 10 years after God promised to make Abram the father of a great nation.

Abram wondered why God was so slow.  Sarai longed for a child.  They began to doubt the promise.  They began to think they misunderstood.

So they decided to do what was common at that time when a couple was childless – Abram would have a child be one of Sarai’s servants and she would adopt the child as hers.  At last, at 86 years old, Abram became a father. 

It was not the best decision they could have made.  Sarai became jealous. Hagar her maid began to think maybe Abram would marry her instead of Sarai.  Abram’s heart broke over the trouble in his household.  He wanted Hagar’s son to be his heir. 

A year passed,

Two years passed.

Thirteen years passed.

Abram was now 99 and Sarah 89, and still did not have a child of their own, when God appeared to Abram again.   Hagar’s son was not the promised child.  Sarai would have a son.  To reaffirm the promise, God changed Abram’s name to Abraham – father of nations – and Sarai’s name to Sarah – princess – to emphasize the trustworthiness of the promise.

 And Abraham laughed….laughed at God. 

Abraham also had questions.  How could a couple so very old possibly have a child?  It was absurd.  And what about Hagar’s son, whom he loved?  What would become of him?

God assured Abraham that Sarah would indeed have a child.  And Hagar’s son, while not the child of promise, would be blessed and also become a great nation. 

Abraham trusted God and his and all the males of his household were circumcised as a sign of God’s covenant, as God commanded.

A month passed

Maybe two.

Maybe three.

Abraham had visitors.  After asking Sarah to get a feast ready for the three travelers, he sat down to talk.  Little did he know that he was entertaining angels and they visitors had astounding news – Sarah would have a son by this time next year. 

Sarah laughed.  How could she, eighty-nine years old have a child when she couldn’t have one when she was young?

Is anything too wonderful, too difficult, too hard for God?

A year passed.

Well at least nine months.

And Sarah held in her arms the proof of God’s faithfulness – Isaac her son. 

That night, Abraham thought one star shone just a little brighter.

Centuries passed.

One thousand years.

A little over two thousand years.

Abraham’s descendents did become a nation.  And God continued to be faithful to them, even when they were not grateful, when they complained, when they doubted and were confused, and even when they downright didn’t trust God.

One night some of Abraham’s descendents were out in the fields watching their sheep when a star blazed brightly and angels told them about the birth of the promised child, who would indeed bless everyone on earth, through his life, death and resurrection.

Centuries have passed.

One thousand years

A little over two thousand years.

God’s promise continues.

Sometimes, the children of the promise find it easy to trust. 

Sometimes, we doubt. 

Sometimes, we’re confused and impatient.

Sometimes, we make our own plans.

Sometimes, we just plain don’t understand.

But always, God is faithful.

Sarah's Journey

Sarah’s Journey

Based on Genesis 22:1-8

Setting – Sarah’s tent, perhaps some cushions strewn around.

Sarah, Abraham’s wife, an ancient woman.

Abraham, he should appear older each time he is on stage.

Isaac, a boy in his early teens

Sarah

            Oh, you clumsy girl!  That was my best pottery!  You idiot!  Out of my sight now!  A day at the rendering pots ought to teach you to be more careful!  Out! Out!

            No, Zaphra, I do not want any of that vile tea you make for my aching joints!  There’s nothing wrong with me!  Quit fussing over me and leave me alone!

            (Sighing) Oh, you’re right.  I have been out of sorts for days.  I can’t help it.  I’m just so worried about Abraham and Isaac.

            I know, I know.  Abraham treasures the boy; he would not let anything happen to him.  It’s not Abraham I’m worried about.  It’s that God of his.  I can feel it in my bones – there’s something Abraham didn’t tell me about this journey, something that has to do with God.

            I feel so wicked for even thinking such a thing.  After all God promised Isaac would be Abraham’s heir and there would be descendents as numerous as the stars.  I should trust God.  But it’s so hard.  There’s so much I don’t understand.  God’s commands are strange.

            After all God has never talked to me!  But Abraham has had many conversations with God.  And after each one, Abraham has done some very strange things.

            Well, we moved here didn’t we!  So far from the rich green land I knew as a child.  So far from family and friends.  Yes, yes, Zaphra, you are like a daughter to me.  And our household has grown – we have new family and friends.  But I was not there when my mother died – how do I know if my sisters honored the customs properly?  I was not there to make sure it was so- as was my responsibility as the oldest daughter. 

            No I was not there.  One day, out of the blue, Abraham runs into my tent.  He was so excited.  What light was in his eyes!  But his words made no sense:

Abraham:

(Upstage and to the left of Sarah)  Sarai, Sarai!  I have spoken with God. I, I mean God has spoken with me!   You need to start packing, lay in provisions.  We’re going on a long journey.  God has promised to make me a great nation. But we must go the land God shows me.  Hurry, I want to leave within two days!  (Exits excitedly)

Sarah

And with that he ran out.  I started packing and we did leave on the second day.  I left my mother, ailing, bedridden, in the care of my sisters.  She did not have much longer in this world, we could have waited.  But no – Abraham said God told him to go, and go we did.

            As the town faded in the distance, I wondered who this God was that Abraham spoke to.  Which god was he following?  What a thing – to claim that a god talked to you!  Unheard of! 

            Nor was that the last time God spoke to Abraham.  I remember the time God told Abraham that all the males of his household must bear a sign of the covenant between God and Abraham.  What a sign!  All the males from Abraham himself to the least of the goatherds were limping around for days!  What a sight!  Ha! And what a strange God to require such a sacrifice!

Abraham

(Upstage and left of Sarah.  He is in pain.) Now Sarai, I mean Sarah – your new name is going to take some getting used to!  Now dear one, I know it is inconvenient for you to spare the girls - but the herds must be tended.  Until the men have finished healing, the spinning and weaving will just have to wait.  After all, there’ll be no more spinning and weaving if we lose the source of our wool.  And dear, could you please get some of that soothing salve for me!  (Leaves limping)

Sarah

I didn’t understand, but it seemed to make sense to Abraham.  I decided then that I didn’t need God to talk to me.  God could just leave me and the other women alone!  If God required that from the men, we women were glad to be left out of God’s regard!

I didn’t understand and I didn’t believe.  It was Abraham’s God and Abraham’s promise.  Still, for Abraham to be the father of nations required a child; a child God promised would be mine.  I heard the promise of the strange visitors, the ones Abraham was sure were messengers of the Lord.  Ha!  A child from an old woman, from a womb that long since had dried up – that had never showed the least sign of being fruitful.  I laughed in disbelief.  Yet, yet, deep down inside, hope burst into life, hope that I thought I had buried long ago.

Suddenly, I no longer needed God to speak to me.  Who needed to hear God’s voice!  I had something much better.  God reached down from the heavens and touched me!  When I felt the first fluttering movements of life, so slight I thought I might be imagining them, oh yes, I believed then!  My faith was strong – I knew that a God who cared enough to grant an old woman’s desire truly loved me.  And a God who could fill the lifeless with life could truly do everything.  And that day, that glorious day, when Isaac first breathed our air, my joy was complete.  Abraham was so proud.  I could hear his voice from outside my tent as he held our son aloft for all to see.

Abraham

(Enters upstage and left of Sarah, cradling the infant)  How great is God!  And how everlastingly faithful God is!  Look and see – the promised heir is born!  And what a strong, healthy boy he is!  Look at him!  The most beautiful perfect child ever! (Exits proudly showing off the child) 

Sarah

            Finally life was perfect.  I held my tiny son, nourished him, nurtured him, watched him grow.  Watched his first steps, heard his first word.  Watched him grow into young manhood.  I worried all night the first time he stayed out with the shepherds, watching the herds.  And now, now, I worry about what God wants with my husband and my son so far out in the wilderness.

I heard them as they prepared for their journey.  And I know, as sure as anything I have ever known that something is not right about this trip.  Abraham was evasive when I asked him about the need to take such a long trip to worship God when we have always worshiped right here.  Even Isaac was puzzled by Abraham’s instructions.

(Isaac and Abraham enter upstage and left of Sarah.  They dialog, and then exit stage right).

Isaac

            Father, should I go to the herds and select a few choice lambs to take for the sacrifice? 

Abraham

            No, Isaac, there is no need.  We are to take only what we have already prepared.  God will provide us with everything else we need.

Sarah

            No, Zaphra, it is unlikely that they will find a suitable sacrifice in the wilderness of Moriah.  You have never been there, but I have.  I will never forget the desolate lands we passed through on the way to this land God promised to us.  Shepherds would be hard pressed indeed to bring flocks there to graze.  And it is the wrong time of the year for the caravans.  How will God provide?  There is nothing there to provide with.

            I can not imagine what Abraham is thinking.  Well, yes I can.  You can not live with a man as long as I have lived with Abraham without knowing what he is thinking.  I saw the look in his eyes as he kissed me goodbye – the uncertainty, the fear.  That look filled my heart with dread.  God has asked something unthinkable.  I am afraid for my husband, and especially my son.

            I keep telling myself, Isaac is the child of the promise.  God will surely let no harm come to him.  I remind myself of the stories that Abraham has told me about God, about God’s goodness and love.  Surely such a God would never ask what I am afraid God has asked.    Still, thoughts plague my days and my dreams are troubled.  I know the secret Abraham tried to hide in the depths of his eyes.  I know why they took no lamb. 

            How could God ask such a thing?  What about the promise?  How can a dead son provide heirs?  How can God snatch my joy from me?  I don’t understand.

            How can Abraham love such a God?  How can he even think about obeying this command?  If God is good and loving, why is God doing this to us?  What about God’s promise?  Will God go back on his word?  Hasn’t Abraham been faithful? 

            How can I trust, Zaphra?  I want to scream and beg and plead with God!  And then I feel ashamed that I lack faith!  What if my doubts cause God to harm my son? Each day I watch the hills, looking for a sign that they are returning, safe, to me.  And each day I despair of what I fear I’ll see.  And God, as always, is silent.  There are no answers for me, no promises, no hope. 

            So what can I do?  I pray, even though the heavens seem closed to my pain.  I wait.  I hope against hope.  I have no answers, no reassurances.  I am empty, clinging to a promise.  And through all the doubts, the despair, and the pain, there is nothing left but God.  

How lost are you? A sermon for Sept 15, 2013

The flocks were settled in relative safety for the night and the shepherds gather around the campfire as they prepare to take turns keeping watch during the night. There’s the usual banter, conversations about how the day went, where the good grazing was. 

Then, one shepherd blurts out, “I feel like celebrating!   You just got to celebrate with me.”

“Celebrate? What do you got to celebrate?”

And the shepherd responds with joy, “Well today one of my lambs wandered off.  So I found a spot to leave the other 99, so I could search for the one that was missing.  Let me tell you it was not easy!   I really had a time of it - he was a long way off.  But I was so excited when I found him -  I just grabbed him up and put him on my shoulders and ran all the way back to my flock.  It was so wonderful to bring that little lamb back!  Come on celebrate with me!   I found the one that was lost!

The other shepherds just looked at each other. Finally, one of them said what everybody was thinking: “You spent all that time and effort on one little lamb? You could have lost your whole flock while you were out searching.   Are you crazy?”

The whole street was buzzing.  A neighbor lady had hurried from door to door with an unexpected invitation:  “Come over to my place, I’m having a party right now!  I have such good news - you just won’t believe it!  Come and celebrate with me!”

The guests for this impromptu party arrived to see a lavish buffet spread out.  She had spared no expense.  What could her news be?  They couldn’t wait to hear - what could be so exciting?  It must be very good news indeed.

Their hostess motioned for quiet and all eyes turned to her as she said: “You won’t believe what happened!   I was checking my silver coins - I have 10 of them you know - when I noticed that one was gone.  Oh my heart dropped to my stomach!  So I started to search everywhere.   I got out candles, lit lamps.  I checked corners and moved the furniture.   I shook out all the linens and emptied drawers.  I searched high and low!   I spent all day searching for my lost coin - and then I found it!  Isn’t that wonderful news!   I just had to have everyone in to celebrate!”

There was applause and some murmured congratulations as people turned to enjoy the food and drink laid out for them.  But as each made their way back to their home, they shook their heads. What foolishness! She had spent more on that party than the coin was worth! She may have found her coin, but she must’ve lost her marbles to throw party like that!

Crazy love.   Foolish determination.  Irresistible grace.

That’s the kind of God we have.

God loves each and every one of those created in God’s image – every single person is God’s beloved child.  God loves us too much to let us stay lost.   God doesn’t rest until the least one is found.  God won’t rest until every last one is found. 

And each and every time we discover we are lost, we discover that God is already looking for us, has already found us.

That’s the great thing about God’s love and grace.  God is the one who does the seeking.  The lost lamb just keeps wandering farther and farther away.  The lost coin just lays there until it’s found.

I wonder if the lost lamb is Jesus’ metaphor for those tax collectors and sinners – those folks who have gotten so far away from the flock that choosing the wrong path is second nature.  Just like that little lamb that is so busy eating and frolicking  and looking for the next juicy tidbits to nibble that he doesn’t realize that he’s completely alone, completely lost.

Then the lost coin would be the metaphor for the Pharisees and other righteous folks.  They don’t know they are lost.  They are busy going about their days, trying to do their best, trying to live a righteous, God-pleasing life.  And yet somehow, something is not quite right – something is missing. 

They are.  Like a coin, they’ve slipped away, dropped on the floor and rolled into a corner. 

Either way, lamb or coin, God is not going to leave anyone lost.  God is the crazy shepherd, leaving the 99 in the wilderness, to search until the one is brought back, and the flock is made whole again.  God is the foolish woman, spending all day searching for that lost coin and then throwing an over the top celebration when it’s found.

Every time a so-called sinner repents, there’s a party in heaven.

Every time someone is baptized, the angels rejoice.

Every time, you turn to God, for any reason, God calls the angels together to celebrate.