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hat did you think of during the guided meditation? Most of us have an image of going home, even if it’Äôs a place we’Äôve never been. We long in our hearts for a place where we are welcomed, loved and accepted as we are, yet gently nurtured to be the best persons we can be. Some of us have had the privilege of knowing such a home. Most of us only from time to time. Some of us never. Yet we all yearn for that place that we can call home.

One of the earliest lessons I learned in church as a child, and perhaps the most important lesson I ever learned, is that at church everyone is welcome. You can’Äôt overestimate how important and difficult a lesson that was. It has shaped my entire ministry. Perhaps it resonated with me because, as often as not, I was one of those kids who were left out. As every parent knows, there is no such thing as innocent children. Put three children in a room, and two will leave the third one out. Isn’Äôt that true? And for all but the most exceptional children, one of the most difficult things to learn is to rejoice in the good fortune of your sibling or classmate if you did not receive the same exact thing at precisely the same moment. No matter how many goodies you have received in the past, it is just unbearable to watch the other get something when you haven’Äôt.

I don’Äôt think we ever grow out of such feelings. We just get more sophisticated. Racism, homophobia, classism, war, greed: they’Äôre just grown up ways of expressing those childhood emotions. Who’Äôs included, who’Äôs not. Who’Äôs up, who’Äôs down. Who’Äôs on the inside and who’Äôs on the outside.

That’Äôs what the scribes and Pharisees were grumbling about. ’ÄúThis fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.’Äù Of course, they meant it as a insult. It’Äôs not that Jesus hadn’Äôt eaten any meals with them. It’Äôs not that they hadn’Äôt shared enough fine meals with each other. It’Äôs not that they didn’Äôt have plenty of people to welcome them into their homes already. It’Äôs just that, part of their self-image was wrapped up in not being like the tax collectors and sinners. If the tax collectors and sinners received the same sort of welcome, it somehow tarnished the good fortune to which they were already privy.

’ÄúW hich one of you,’Äù Jesus asks, ’Äúhaving 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?’Äù Well, the answer is, of course, not many. It is not good shepherding to leave the entire flock unprotected for the sake of only one lost sheep. In the process of saving one, you could lose the whole flock. In the parable, the ninety-nine were vulnerable because when the shepherd goes off to find the lost sheep, they are not safely in the corral, but left in the wilderness.

Perhaps that is the problem. For all the blessings we receive in this life, we still experience it like a wilderness. The Israelites knew a lot about the wilderness. They spent a lot of years there after coming out of Egypt. Mostly, it was a time of complaining and doubt about God’Äôs presence. God had brought them up out of slavery, yet they weren’Äôt sure God was with them unless God’Äôs bounty showered down upon them every minute. For all their security, they still worried about the security of their home.

The parables also seem to turn our usual understanding of repentance on its head. We usually think of repentance as a sort of remorseful act of will. We feel bad about ourselves, and our past actions, and we vow to turn our lives around. The effort is ours. Perhaps there was indeed something of that happening among those at the table with Jesus. Only the subjects in the parable don’Äôt repent. What does it mean for a lost sheep to repent, or a lost coin? Whatever repentance means in this parable, it’Äôs not about our effort.

Instead, the parable focuses on the actions of this strange shepherd and outrageous woman. The shepherd searches until the lost sheep is found. Is this what God is like? The woman sweeps her house until she finds the missing coin. Is this what God is like? It’Äôs not the coin or the sheep that makes the effort, it’Äôs the one who does the searching. And once the sheep is found, the shepherd does not get angry at the sheep for getting lost, for turning away, for leaving the flock. The shepherd hoists the sheep up on his shoulders, rejoicing as he carries it home. Is this what God is like?

The truth is, we were all lost sheep once. If we are honest about it, most of us still are. We don’Äôt particularly like thinking of ourselves as sheep, and we are even more reluctant to acknowledge that we have ever been lost. Perhaps that is the one act of repentance that the parable requires. It requires us to acknowledge our lostness. But the response to being found it not remorsefulness, it is joy. We rejoice when we discover, all along, that someone has been searching for us our whole lives.

That’Äôs what Jesus was trying to teach the scribes and Pharisees. God’Äôs welcome of the tax collectors does not devalue God’Äôs welcome to them. The key word in the chapter is ’Äúrejoice.’Äù The shepherd calls his friends to ’Äúrejoice’Äù in finding the lost sheep. The woman calls in her neighbors to ’Äúrejoice’Äù in finding her coin. And there is ’Äújoy’Äù in heaven and in the presence of God’Äôs angels. Jesus does not criticize the Pharisees for their righteousness. Nor does he question their standards. All he expects of them is that they share his joy over the return of the lost. The point of the parable is not to call sinners to repentance but to call the righteous to join the celebration. All who hear the parable are placed alongside the Pharisees to answer the same question: Are you going to join the party or not? That’Äôs the question that is left up in the air. Will the friends and neighbors of the shepherd rejoice with him or not? Will the friends and neighbors of the woman rejoice with her?

T oday is Homecoming Sunday. Our theme for this entire season is ’ÄúFinding Our Place at the Table.’Äù The table, of course, it not ours, but belongs to Jesus. It is not we who do the welcoming, but him. We are not the Pharisees, and those outside the church somehow the lost sheep and the lost coins. We are all part of the company of the lost. I love that definition of evangelism that ’Äúevangelism is one beggar telling another beggar where to find bread.’Äù Or maybe we could say, ’Äúone sheep telling another sheep that the shepherd is looking for you.’Äù So today it is appropriate that we re-enact the meal Jesus shared with his disciples, not only the Last Supper, but all the other meals that preceded it, when Jesus welcomed sinners and ate with them. Sometimes in Protestant circles we celebrate the Lord’Äôs Supper in such somber tones, but that really is inappropriate. There is joy in heaven! ’ÄúJoin me at my table,’Äù Jesus says. ’ÄúJoin me at this meal-time party. This is still the place where I welcome sinners and eat with them.’Äù

What an exciting challenge it is to be invited to that table. Most churches, most pastors, most communities’Äì religious or not’Äì spend their energy and attention on those who are present and accounted for. Jesus calls us to join him in that odd stewardship that is willing even to risk the group for the sake of the one who is missing.

I heard once about a small group practice where they always leave one chair empty. The empty chair serves to remind the group that all of them share the responsibility of finding someone to fill that empty chair. And when the chair is filled, they add another empty chair to replace it.

Wouldn’Äôt that be wonderful if in all of our gatherings, in every meeting, every choir rehearsal, every Sunday school class, every Fellowship Hour, and every worship service, we intentionally placed an empty chair among us to remind us of the calling to seek out those who have not yet found a place at the table? What if the overriding concern of our church in everything we did became searching for those who felt lost and left-out? What an odd, different, wonderful, welcoming sort of community that would be. And what a party we would have together. Jesus said there already is rejoicing in heaven. The only question is, will there be rejoicing on here on earth? There is already a party going on. The only question is whether we will join the celebration.

Let’Äôs do that, in part, by reaffirming our common vision of a welcoming community where all are invited, by reading together our Mission Statement, printed in the bulletin:

’ÄúWe are pilgrims,
¬Ýtogether on a spiritual journey,
trusting God to show us the way.
We follow Jesus,
seeing God's image in every face,
¬Ýinviting all people
into the circle of God’Äôs grace.
We joyfully worship in song and in prayer,
and eagerly proclaim
¬Ýthe Good News of Jesus Christ
in word and in deed:
by caring for each other,
serving neighbors in need,
and seeking peace with justice.’Äù¬Ý¬Ý¬Ý¬Ý¬Ý¬Ý¬Ý¬Ý¬Ý¬Ý¬Ý ✞

© 2007 Jeffrey K. Krehbiel