Thursday, November 5, 2020           (today’s lectionary)
 Lambs of God
We are the circumcision. We who worship through the Spirit of God and boast in Christ Jesus do not put our confidence in flesh. And whatever gains I had, those I have to come to consider loss because of Christ.
Not long after he wrote this, Paul was killed. The Romans cut off his head. Soon after his friend Peter was killed. He was crucified upside down. And in the next couple hundred years, thousands of Christ-followers were put to the sword or fed to the lions. We call them martyrs.
Can you imagine? Wearing a robe and covering your face with a mask to avoid recognition? Sharing the Eucharist in secret in the back of your friend’s house, waiting till nearly midnight in hope the spies will sleep? Creating codes and symbols to communicate your love of Jesus, like a fish, maybe?
But then in the blink of an eye, the door slams open, a torch-carrying crashing-armored soldier storms in and rips you away from the others, shoves you into the terrifying grasp of other soldiers, and you know your life has changed forever. Is it worth it?
Let my heart rejoice because I seek the Lord, and seek to serve him constantly. He is our God and throughout the earth his judgments prevail.
You could have avoided all of this. Just skip the daily communion once in awhile. Or better yet, skip it altogether. Leave the bloody sacrifices to the priests in the temple, and forget about these stretched out fantasies about a resurrected man. There’s no sense in this group hypnosis. Your parents told you so and your sister laughed at you. Your tears were angry of course, sad for them, but weren’t they also tears of doubt?
And now?
The sinners drew near to listen to Jesus. The keepers of public, clerical and canon law complained about this, and Jesus told them several stories about sheep and coins and sons. They listened dutifully to this rabbi, but his words went in one ear and out the other.
Not you. Your eyes and ears were wide open. And now you hold your hands tight over your ears so they won’t be slashed right off.
But you’re not the only one. Everyone in the room has been captured. And now you are all imprisoned together, 20 of you in just four cells. Someone’s singing. Another tells the story of Peter rescued by an angel when he was in a cell just like this. One of you has a loaf of bread and two fish that were not confiscated, and it seems to be enough for all of you as you share it through the bars and around the wall to your friends next door.
What woman having ten coins and losing one would not light a lamp and sweep the house, searching carefully until she finds it? Then when she finds it, won’t she call together her friends and neighbors and say to them, “Rejoice with me!”
I was lost, and now I’m found. I’m a shiny coin, I’m a curious lamb, a renegade sheep, a selfish son. But now I’m found, and not just me, but my friends here, they too are found. We lived together, and we will die together. We are all found. Jesus is with us, and our church family is intact. The victory is won, exactly in the midst of all that blood we’re about to spill. In life and death we will never be alone. O, what joy in this climax of the Eucharist, when we share not only in the life but also the death of Jesus.
There is more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than the ninety-nine who have no need for repentance. There shall be rejoicing!
Please click above on the link “more joy.” That picture is in our Urbana office across from the couch, and when we share with friends who need counseling or spiritual companionship, they are looking at that picture of angels rejoicing, as we travel our spiritual path together. There is no such thing as an individual Christian. Praise God and sing. We are all in this together.
(Philippians 3, Psalm 105, Matthew 11, Luke 15)
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