Some stories are almost predictable. As we come to know the characters we can tell how they will act as the story unfolds. Today’s Exodus story has a tense beginning. The people God has chosen, delivered from slavery and led across the desert have betrayed their relationship with God. They have made a golden calf, worshiped and sacrificed to it. To add insult to injury, they have cried out, “This is your God, O Israel; who brought you out of the land of Egypt.”
Nothing surprising in that, is there? These people God had chosen will frequently turn away from the God who loved and repeatedly liberated them. It seems to be in their DNA. We have come to know them and can almost predict how they will behave. The real surprise is how God seems to have turned on the Israelites, threatening to consume them in a blazing wrath. In the past God regularly called the Israelites “My people.” Now, in anger, God tells Moses they are, “Your people.”
God is like a frustrated parent, whose child has again stepped out of line, saying to the other parent, “Tell your son….” “Do you know what your daughter just did?” The frustrated parent seems ready to disown their own child. But we know this Parent won’t. It’s not in God’s character to forsake the people, even when they have chosen to go in another direction. Still, God’s comments to Moses do make it seem like God will reject the people God has chosen. It seems like a big shift in God’s personality.
But hold on. Once Moses reminds God how much God has done for the people in the past and recalls God’s promises to their faithful ancestors Abraham, Isaac and Israel, God relents. Of course God would. We could have predicted God’s merciful response because God is being true to character in this complicated story line that depicts the nature of the relationship between God and us humans. God does not stop being merciful even when we, true to character, choose one golden calf or another, instead of staying faithful to God. So the story goes: while we humans act arrogantly, God continues offering us the assurance of mercy — it’s in God’s DNA. When we finally choose to return home to our loving, waiting Parent, God is there with open arms to welcome us home.
Which is what Jesus describes in today’s parable of the Good Samaritan. The preacher can make the link between the God who once again forgives the erring Israelites and the father anxiously awaiting his wandering son’s return. But my choice for today’s preaching is to choose the shorter option (Luke 15:1-10), and focus on the first two of these three “parables of mercy.” This choice feels more manageable to this preacher.
Luke’s gospel is an appropriate one for this “Year of Mercy.” More than any other this gospel portrays God’s mercy. In the light of today’s parables it seems like a foolish mercy to us, more practical, common-sense folk. Reflecting on these parables how would we describe God’s character? Foolish to begin with; risking everything on our behalf; exceedingly generous; welcoming us with a warm embrace and joyful feasting when we finally decide to come home to God.
What Jesus says about God in these parables is exactly the way he was in his preaching and actions. The Pharisees got it, because they complained, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” If Jesus weren’t merciful and welcoming to sinners and outcasts those who heard these parables would never have believed him. He was not only kind and compassionate toward sinners, he even ate with them — an unspeakable act for the ever-pure Pharisees.
The reason we believe in a kind and merciful God is because Jesus not only told us, but acted mercifully. Like the God who repeatedly forgave the erring Israelites, Jesus always acted mercifully towards those who came to him. Which suggests how we must reflect our Christian beliefs, not only in words, but in actions — just as Jesus did.
We aren’t merciful and forgiving to earn God’s mercy. God is ready and always merciful towards us and therefore, like Jesus, we are to reflect kindness and mercy we have received to all — especially those outside our accustomed social and religious circles. We can instruct others in our faith but, as Pope Paul VI reminded us, people will believe us more by the witness of our lives than by our words. For example, can we expect our children to be kind, forgiving and accepting of others, if we are not? They need to see gracious love and compassion reflected in our lives, if they are to believe the words we constantly speak to them.
Jesus tells the “lost and found parables” on his way to Jerusalem. They are one more example of what he has been saying as he has traveled: he has “come to seek and save what was lost” (19:10).
The parable of the lost sheep begins with Jesus’ invitation for his hearers to imagine themselves as the shepherd. Barbara Reid, OP (PARABLES FOR PREACHERS – YEAR C, THE GOSPEL OF LUKE. Liturgical Press, 2000, page 184) points out that such a large flock of sheep would have had other shepherds, members of the same clan. So, the shepherd who goes in search of the lost sheep is doing what any shepherd would do. The parable presumes the value of the sheep and suggests the difficulty of searching a rugged terrain for the lost one. Notice too, the shepherd doesn’t carry a lamb on his shoulders, but a full-grown sheep. No easy task.
Finding the lost sheep is not the end of the story: the relief and joy of the community is integral to the parable. Note that the sheep did nothing on its own. It’s all the work of the shepherd. God takes the initiative and does the “hard work” so that the sinner will accept the gracious gift of a loving God and celebrate their God in the environs of the community.
Like the shepherd looking for the lost sheep, the woman expends great energy searching for her lost coin. Also, like the shepherd, when the lost object is found there is a joyful celebration with friends and neighbors. This parable offers a refreshing female image for our God who does not give up on us until we are found.
Jesus tells these parables to justify why he is eating with tax collectors and sinners. He’s doing what the prophets called Israel’s shepherds, the kings, to do: to forgo their comforts and reach out to the poor and outsider. These are parables that also speak to those of us who are leaders in the church community. As we look out at our worshiping congregation, who is here and who is absent? Who are the “lost?” Why are they lost? Or, why are they treated as second-class members of the community when they do come? What do we need to do to go out and “find” them and bring them home with joy?