This text appears in the lectionary cycle just about the time of the America's remembrance of the September 11 attacks in 2001. "Life will never be the same again," we heard over and over, and that prediction has more or less proven true, although probably not in the ways that any of the pundits assumed. Many folks say they live in fear of more attacks, and it does not take a prophet to see that more are coming — as a nation we have never really addressed the motivations of the terrorists, and in fact, by our government's responses, the problems have been exacerbated. It does not take a revelation from God to see that our problems are far from over.
On the other side of that coin, we are a nation that has certainly changed in its understanding of our heroes. After 9/11, we saw our police officers and firefighters in a brand new light — one that was long overdue — as it came home to us that these dedicated men and women put their lives on the line for us, unheralded, every day. They have always deserved our respect and gratitude, and since the attacks, they have received a bit more of their due. That is a good change.
After the 9/11 attacks, some of our more fundamentalist preachers who figure they are this generation's reincarnation of the prophetic voice managed to find television cameras to make it heard. They proclaimed to all the world that the attacks were God's judgment on America for our toleration of a list of social positions that were in conflict with their own — gay rights, abortion, prayer in public schools, anything supported by the ACLU, and so forth. You might also recall that the response to those remarks was absolute outrage from people with any brain at all.
As you can surmise, I think their position was abominable — the events of 9/11 are certainly not a reflection of the God I have come to know in scripture, in experience, and certainly not in the life and ministry of Jesus Christ. For that matter, it is not even the Allah that is met in the pages of the Qu'ran, despite what you hear from Islam's own radical right.
So saying, where is God in all this? Read the Old Testament and you regularly find predictions of gloom and doom for a sinful and unrepentant people. And, yes, you certainly do find those predictions coming true — defeat in battle, years in exile, and so on. For that matter, you will hear "prophetic voices" almost anytime some horrendous event occurs.
That brings to mind the onslaught of Hurricane Hugo in 1988 that did much damage in the Carolinas. If you recall, those were the days that saw the downfall of Jim Bakker and his PTL ministry brought on by the fraud that had been perpetrated on unwitting time-share purchasers at Heritage, USA, and was finally exposed by the investigative reporting of the Charlotte Observer. The esteemed theologian, Tammy Faye Bakker, said the damage from Hugo was God's judgment on the city that had brought down her husband. She never did clarify, though, why the storm had damaged the steeple of First Presbyterian Church but had left the Observer building untouched.
Are disastrous hurricanes God's judgment? A certain ilk is going to think so. Several years ago, televangelist and former presidential candidate, Pat Robertson, warned that the city of Orlando might well face a direct hit by a hurricane because it permitted the display of rainbow flags out of respect for gay people. Said Robertson: "I would warn Orlando that you're right in the way of some serious hurricanes, and I don't think I'd be waving those flags in God's face if I were you." Good ol' Pat.
Fortunately, in our day we have come to see that there are other explanations for why we have these disastrous storms. Hurricanes arrive, not because God has a habit of punishing evil senior-citizen mobile-home-park dwellers in a land devoid of snow or ice, but because the prevailing winds, ocean currents, and frontal zones combine in ways that make tropical storms more likely at this time of the year. The same is true of earthquakes, tornadoes, or floods. All of these are directed by the forces of nature. This is so in good times and bad and without respect to the moral climate or condition of the people who happen to be living in a region where disaster strikes.
The God we meet in the pages of scripture is not this vicious, violent terrorist that some people want us to see (and terrorist really is the best word for that kind of god). Instead, we meet a very different God in the stories of Jesus like the ones that we read in our text. It begins by saying that Jesus critics sneered, "This man, this Jesus, receives sinners and eats with them, that is, parties with them" (Luke 15:2 cf).
In response, Jesus had these little stories.
Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the 99 in the open country — vulnerable to wolves, wandering off, and other all manner of mischief — and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders — just a lost child — and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, "Come party with me; I have found my lost sheep." — Luke 15:4-7 cf
Or suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one. Does she not light a lamp, sweep the house, rip up all of the carpet in the living room, move all of the furniture out into the front yard, then move all of the heavy appliances out of the kitchen into the front yard, and search relentlessly until she finds it? And when she finds it, she comes running out into the yard, calling to everybody up and down the street, "Come party with me! I found my quarter!" — Luke 15:8-9 cf
Now which one of you would not do that? You know the answer: None of us would do that. None of us.[1] But Jesus says God would. "I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents" (Luke 15:10).
When faith faces disaster, in which God is your faith? Is it a God who sends airplanes into buildings because he is miffed? Is it a God who blows 100+-mile-per-hour winds through impoverished Caribbean islands and Florida trailer parks? Or a God who is so concerned about our ultimate welfare that the safe return of even the lowest and least among us is cause for a heavenly party? It is not a hard choice, is it?
In Johnstown, Pennsylvania, a horrendous flood occurred in 1889 when some dams burst and sent torrents of water through the valley doing incalculable damage. There is an Episcopal church — St. Mark's — that was already in existence when the flood hit. Many were killed including the rector of that church and his family. When the flood waters receded and the church was cleaned up and reopened, the survivors decided to engrave on the altar a verse not commonly carved into altars. "Many waters cannot quench love." The verse goes on to say, "neither can floods drown it" (Song of Solomon 8:7).
1. William Willimon, "Outrageous Parties," http://www.sermonconnection.com/.