Pondering the texts
12/09/13 05:21
We try to work ahead on worship planning. That means that there are many times when my head is filled with several different passages of scripture. Then, as Sunday approaches, I focus on the particular texts that form the focus for our worship each week. Sometimes, however, when we have picked a particular text as our weekly focus from the distance of a few months in advance, as the day approaches, I find myself thinking in a different direction than the worship plans seems to be leading me. I know this sounds confusing as I write it. I guess the simplest way to say it is that sometimes the scriptures lead me in a different direction than our plans.
I had planned to focus worship on part of Paul’s greeting to Timothy in the first chapter of 1st Timothy. I am reaching the stage in my life where I think that I might have a bit of advice to share with a young leader in the church. I am impressed with the faithfulness of some of the emerging church leaders and I am drawn to conversation with them and aware of what great gifts they have to offer to the church. I know little to nothing about the relationship between Paul and Timothy, but it seems that the letters come from Paul’s gradual acceptance of the fact that he is aging and new leadership is emerging.
However, the Gospel reading for this week has been dancing in the back of my mind all week. It is a very familiar text. There are two stories of finding lost things that precede the story of the prodigal son in Luke 15: the lost sheep and the lost coin. In most modern translations, Jesus begins the parable of the lost sheep with a question: “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?”
I can easily imagine a scene in which I am part of a crowd listening to Jesus teaching and upon hearing the question I sheepishly (no pun intended) raise my hand. I think that I am the one who does not leave 99 sheep in the wilderness on the prospect of finding one who is lost. I mean doesn’t one have some responsibility to the 99 sheep? Doesn’t one consider the risk to the flock of being in the wilderness? If there were to be an attack from wolves, wouldn’t 99 left unprotected be likely to lose more than one?
I don’t mean to be crass, but people slip between the cracks all the time in real communities. We focus on the needs of a lot of people and sometimes an individual doesn’t show up or has something going on in his or her life and we aren’t aware of it. If we use the same odds as the parable of the lost sheep, at any given moment there are 6 people out of our 600-member church of whose circumstances we are unaware. Churches are dynamic organizations. People come and go. I don’t like the idea of a church losing members, but it is a reality that I have to accept in a world with very little institutional loyalty, and very complex family dynamics. When I don’t see someone for a few weeks, I often don’t know if it is illness, hurt feelings, or soccer. And I feel like I imagine the shepherd in the parable might feel. If he goes in search of the lost sheep, what guarantee does he have that three more won’t be missing as soon as he returns with the one? In a church, if I obsess about one person, there are likely to be a dozen who feel slighted because I’m not paying enough attention to them.
I find the lost sheep and the lost coin to have two very different odds. In the first, the shepherd is challenged to risk 99% of his flock in search of 1%. In the other, the woman doesn’t apparently risk the 90% of her wealth to look for the lost 10%. Of course you’d look carefully for the lost coin if you were the woman in that parable. The preferred course of action isn’t as clear in the first story.
It may be the result of over analysis. Maybe I’m just thinking about the story too much. The obvious meaning in the story is that there is much rejoicing when the lost is found. Jesus’ own conclusion in the parable is simple: “There is more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.”
But even that conclusion is confusing to me. I’ve never found myself to be in need of no repentance. There is always something in my life that should and could be changed. I experience life as a series of corrections and changes. I’m sure that there are some people in this world who are far better than I. But I can’t quite imagine a crowd of “ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.”
It is helpful for me to remember the context of the parables. Luke reports: “the Pharisees and scribes were grumbling and saying, ‘This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.’” The story starts out with people complaining about the company that Jesus kept. That I can identify with. In a congregation the size of ours, there is always a bit of grumbling going on, and it is not uncommon for the grumbling to sound like: “the pastor spends too much time with others and not enough with me!”
I’m particularly vulnerable to that kind of criticism precisely because I am constantly questioning my own priorities in terms of time. Sometimes I do get distracted and spend a lot of time with an individual or a family. Sometimes I don’t spend enough time or give enough attention to someone who also deserves my time and attention. Sometimes people do “slip between the cracks.”
I’m not sure what direction I’ll be going with my sermon this week, but it is clear to me that I don’t have the wisdom of Paul. Perhaps I’m not yet ready to be writing “sage advice” to young leaders. When I really look at the church these days, it often seems that the emerging leaders have more wisdom than I. It is a hopeful possibility.
I had planned to focus worship on part of Paul’s greeting to Timothy in the first chapter of 1st Timothy. I am reaching the stage in my life where I think that I might have a bit of advice to share with a young leader in the church. I am impressed with the faithfulness of some of the emerging church leaders and I am drawn to conversation with them and aware of what great gifts they have to offer to the church. I know little to nothing about the relationship between Paul and Timothy, but it seems that the letters come from Paul’s gradual acceptance of the fact that he is aging and new leadership is emerging.
I can easily imagine a scene in which I am part of a crowd listening to Jesus teaching and upon hearing the question I sheepishly (no pun intended) raise my hand. I think that I am the one who does not leave 99 sheep in the wilderness on the prospect of finding one who is lost. I mean doesn’t one have some responsibility to the 99 sheep? Doesn’t one consider the risk to the flock of being in the wilderness? If there were to be an attack from wolves, wouldn’t 99 left unprotected be likely to lose more than one?
I don’t mean to be crass, but people slip between the cracks all the time in real communities. We focus on the needs of a lot of people and sometimes an individual doesn’t show up or has something going on in his or her life and we aren’t aware of it. If we use the same odds as the parable of the lost sheep, at any given moment there are 6 people out of our 600-member church of whose circumstances we are unaware. Churches are dynamic organizations. People come and go. I don’t like the idea of a church losing members, but it is a reality that I have to accept in a world with very little institutional loyalty, and very complex family dynamics. When I don’t see someone for a few weeks, I often don’t know if it is illness, hurt feelings, or soccer. And I feel like I imagine the shepherd in the parable might feel. If he goes in search of the lost sheep, what guarantee does he have that three more won’t be missing as soon as he returns with the one? In a church, if I obsess about one person, there are likely to be a dozen who feel slighted because I’m not paying enough attention to them.
I find the lost sheep and the lost coin to have two very different odds. In the first, the shepherd is challenged to risk 99% of his flock in search of 1%. In the other, the woman doesn’t apparently risk the 90% of her wealth to look for the lost 10%. Of course you’d look carefully for the lost coin if you were the woman in that parable. The preferred course of action isn’t as clear in the first story.
It may be the result of over analysis. Maybe I’m just thinking about the story too much. The obvious meaning in the story is that there is much rejoicing when the lost is found. Jesus’ own conclusion in the parable is simple: “There is more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.”
But even that conclusion is confusing to me. I’ve never found myself to be in need of no repentance. There is always something in my life that should and could be changed. I experience life as a series of corrections and changes. I’m sure that there are some people in this world who are far better than I. But I can’t quite imagine a crowd of “ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.”
It is helpful for me to remember the context of the parables. Luke reports: “the Pharisees and scribes were grumbling and saying, ‘This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.’” The story starts out with people complaining about the company that Jesus kept. That I can identify with. In a congregation the size of ours, there is always a bit of grumbling going on, and it is not uncommon for the grumbling to sound like: “the pastor spends too much time with others and not enough with me!”
I’m particularly vulnerable to that kind of criticism precisely because I am constantly questioning my own priorities in terms of time. Sometimes I do get distracted and spend a lot of time with an individual or a family. Sometimes I don’t spend enough time or give enough attention to someone who also deserves my time and attention. Sometimes people do “slip between the cracks.”
I’m not sure what direction I’ll be going with my sermon this week, but it is clear to me that I don’t have the wisdom of Paul. Perhaps I’m not yet ready to be writing “sage advice” to young leaders. When I really look at the church these days, it often seems that the emerging leaders have more wisdom than I. It is a hopeful possibility.