Lost and found
Matthew 4: 12-23
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
January 26, 2020
How many of us are feeling lost about now: our nation, our democracy, our world’s present circumstances? There are days it feels less like fog and more like the dead of night and we can’t see our way forward. We who rely on our eyes to navigate can often forget that that there are other ways of knowing; that where we place our focus has more to do with the orientation of our heart; that our thoughts can lead us to creative imagination as much as down a rabbit hole; that though our emotions can point us toward the truth, they are not necessarily the truth.
Once again I asked friends who are on Facebook for some help. I asked, “When you have been lost, what helped the most?” Some gave answers regarding being physically lost: they used a map or a GPS. Peter Wells related a story of losing the trail beneath the fall leaves when he was hiking in the Adirondacks. What helped him most was to stop and breathe, to not panic. Eventually he found his way and made it to the summit.
Another friend reminded me of author Kate Braestrup who is one of the first chaplains ever appointed to the Maine Warden Service. In her book Here If You Need Me she writes that when children get lost they tend to stay in one place because they expect to be found. Adults on the other hand are often harder for search and rescue teams to find because they think they can rescue themselves and wander in what they think is the way back.
This can be true when we are feeling emotionally or spiritually lost. The most common piece of help was another person, was knowing they were not alone. Through physical presence or writings or music or the presence of an animal or spirit guide, we form a map of sorts through our connections, past and present, to help us find our way forward to the future.
So when the author of the gospel of Matthew wrote that Jesus “made his home in Capernaum by the sea, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali”, it means that with his actions, Jesus is saying in no uncertain terms that he has come for the lost, for those who live in the shadow of death, for those who are alone and who have been forgotten. The territories of Zebulun and Naphtali, two of the lost tribes of Israel, to listeners in both Isaiah’s time and in Jesus’ would be like us hearing about places like Syria, Mosul, the Sudan—places where war and violence have made a living hell for those who live there.
Not only that, but the descendants living in those places centuries after: think of every Native American reservation, the deep South after the Civil War, African-Americans whose ancestors were brought here by force and generations enslaved, all those displaced from their homes because of violence. Remember that poverty is a form of violence, that addiction is a battle. Jesus and his disciples would not be fishing for converts but for those the world has left behind. They would be doing God’s work of gathering in those still in exile: the poor, the marginalized, those considered apart from God. Jesus takes his message and his disciples to those who need him the most. He goes where they are. He does not wait for them to come to him, though many do. Jesus is more interested in closing the gap, making a connection with those who feel disconnected from God and from community.
Maybe for this reason these fishermen left their livelihood to follow Jesus. As we hear later in this gospel, any who want to follow Jesus will lose their lives to find them. And so I asked another question on Facebook: have you ever experienced an inexorable pull that changed your life? As many of my friends are clergy, the pull was ministry and serving others and speaking up for justice. For some it is the call to participate in the holistic healing of others, the call of Spirit, the call to therapy and to be a therapeutic presence. A few expressed the call to the work of teaching and coaching. Others felt the pull of parenthood, especially through adoption and becoming a foster parent. Then there is the inexorable pull of love which can change our lives for both better and worse, richer and poorer, sickness and health, joy and sorrow.
Sometimes the path leads to places we’d rather avoid altogether. In Luke’s gospel Mary was told that a sword would pierce her heart. In John’s gospel Jesus tells Peter that when he grows old he will stretch out his hands and someone will fasten a belt around him and take him where he does not wish to go. Often when we are lost, it is love of some kind that finds us but love is no guarantee against suffering; in fact it is just the opposite.
We love our country and our democracy and what it means for us to be free, and so it hurts to listen to the impeachment trial; it hurts to engage with people with whom we disagree; it hurts to see human beings suffering on our streets or any other place. It hurts when the love that found us then breaks our hearts. In the midst of pain and loss it can be so very hard to hold onto the goodness of love, to still be vulnerable to love and its inexorable pull.
William Butler Yeats wrote,
“But Love has pitched his mansion
In the place of excrement;
For nothing can be sole or whole
That has not been rent.”
The painful irony is that in the call to love, in the call to be found is also the call of suffering and loss, and at some point it comes to us all. I don’t believe it’s part of God’s plan for us but it is a part of life. Another poet said, “Wanderer, your footsteps are the road and nothing more; wanderer, there is no road, the road is made by walking.” However it is we move forward, we make our own way, each of us on our own journey but also blessed to have found each other, to be traveling together, helping each other, companioning each other, and perhaps even hearing a call to make this an important part of our lives.
Signing up to follow Jesus, or any other way of becoming a compassionate, forgiving, loving, justice-seeking human being, is one of the most inexplicable things we can choose to do in this world. Not only that but also to take up with other followers, others on a similar journey and call them friends, family, beloved. And then accept and love them and ourselves no matter what. Keep company with the suffering. Be community for those who have none. Serve those who cannot repay. Fight to restore justice and balance. Uncertainty is our path. We will get lost and hopefully we will find meaning in the process. Our lives will never be the same.
Thanks be to God? Thanks be to Love?
Yes. Yes indeed. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Love you, Church.
Amen.
Benediction – Samir Selmanovic, It's Really All About God
“Jesus offered a single incentive to follow him... [To]…summarize his selling point: ‘Follow me, and you might be happy—or you might not. Follow me, and might be empowered—or you might not. Follow me, and you might have more friends—or you might not. Follow me, and you might have the answers—or you might not. Follow me, and you might be better off—or you might not. If you follow me, you may be worse off in every way you use to measure life. Follow me nevertheless. Because I have an offer that is worth giving up everything you have: you will learn to love well.’”
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
January 26, 2020
How many of us are feeling lost about now: our nation, our democracy, our world’s present circumstances? There are days it feels less like fog and more like the dead of night and we can’t see our way forward. We who rely on our eyes to navigate can often forget that that there are other ways of knowing; that where we place our focus has more to do with the orientation of our heart; that our thoughts can lead us to creative imagination as much as down a rabbit hole; that though our emotions can point us toward the truth, they are not necessarily the truth.
Once again I asked friends who are on Facebook for some help. I asked, “When you have been lost, what helped the most?” Some gave answers regarding being physically lost: they used a map or a GPS. Peter Wells related a story of losing the trail beneath the fall leaves when he was hiking in the Adirondacks. What helped him most was to stop and breathe, to not panic. Eventually he found his way and made it to the summit.
Another friend reminded me of author Kate Braestrup who is one of the first chaplains ever appointed to the Maine Warden Service. In her book Here If You Need Me she writes that when children get lost they tend to stay in one place because they expect to be found. Adults on the other hand are often harder for search and rescue teams to find because they think they can rescue themselves and wander in what they think is the way back.
This can be true when we are feeling emotionally or spiritually lost. The most common piece of help was another person, was knowing they were not alone. Through physical presence or writings or music or the presence of an animal or spirit guide, we form a map of sorts through our connections, past and present, to help us find our way forward to the future.
Not only that, but the descendants living in those places centuries after: think of every Native American reservation, the deep South after the Civil War, African-Americans whose ancestors were brought here by force and generations enslaved, all those displaced from their homes because of violence. Remember that poverty is a form of violence, that addiction is a battle. Jesus and his disciples would not be fishing for converts but for those the world has left behind. They would be doing God’s work of gathering in those still in exile: the poor, the marginalized, those considered apart from God. Jesus takes his message and his disciples to those who need him the most. He goes where they are. He does not wait for them to come to him, though many do. Jesus is more interested in closing the gap, making a connection with those who feel disconnected from God and from community.
Sometimes the path leads to places we’d rather avoid altogether. In Luke’s gospel Mary was told that a sword would pierce her heart. In John’s gospel Jesus tells Peter that when he grows old he will stretch out his hands and someone will fasten a belt around him and take him where he does not wish to go. Often when we are lost, it is love of some kind that finds us but love is no guarantee against suffering; in fact it is just the opposite.
We love our country and our democracy and what it means for us to be free, and so it hurts to listen to the impeachment trial; it hurts to engage with people with whom we disagree; it hurts to see human beings suffering on our streets or any other place. It hurts when the love that found us then breaks our hearts. In the midst of pain and loss it can be so very hard to hold onto the goodness of love, to still be vulnerable to love and its inexorable pull.
William Butler Yeats wrote,
“But Love has pitched his mansion
In the place of excrement;
For nothing can be sole or whole
That has not been rent.”
Signing up to follow Jesus, or any other way of becoming a compassionate, forgiving, loving, justice-seeking human being, is one of the most inexplicable things we can choose to do in this world. Not only that but also to take up with other followers, others on a similar journey and call them friends, family, beloved. And then accept and love them and ourselves no matter what. Keep company with the suffering. Be community for those who have none. Serve those who cannot repay. Fight to restore justice and balance. Uncertainty is our path. We will get lost and hopefully we will find meaning in the process. Our lives will never be the same.
Thanks be to God? Thanks be to Love?
Yes. Yes indeed. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Love you, Church.
Amen.
Benediction – Samir Selmanovic, It's Really All About God
“Jesus offered a single incentive to follow him... [To]…summarize his selling point: ‘Follow me, and you might be happy—or you might not. Follow me, and might be empowered—or you might not. Follow me, and you might have more friends—or you might not. Follow me, and you might have the answers—or you might not. Follow me, and you might be better off—or you might not. If you follow me, you may be worse off in every way you use to measure life. Follow me nevertheless. Because I have an offer that is worth giving up everything you have: you will learn to love well.’”
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