To Be Found

To Be Found

Matthew 18:12-14

February 23, 2020 • Mount Pleasant UMC

In 2012, the group we had taken to Israel went hiking at a place called En Gedi. That’s an oasis in the southern desert, down near the Dead Sea, and it’s most famous Biblically as the place where King Saul found a cave to use as a toilet. If you don’t believe me, you can read the story in 1 Samuel 24. Today, En Gedi is a nature preserve and there are hiking trails that go up into the wadi or ravine back to the waterfall that is where the cave used to be. As we walked and tried to find our way toward the waterfall, I kept an eye out for the local wildlife. On the various hills and crags we saw lots of birds, a few ibex (sort of an Israeli mountain goat), and a lot of sun worshippers! As we wound through the ravine, I also thought a lot about how easy it would be to wander off, to get lost in the wilderness. As we tried to stay on the main path, there were lots of other paths that tempted us to stray away, to go another way, but I knew if we did that, we’d never end up back to the bus on time—and, worse yet, we’d probably miss lunch!

It’s easy to get lost in the wilderness, and that’s what we’ve really been talking about these last few weeks as we’ve tackled the topic of doubt and how it relates to faith. We’ve talked about questions and those times when God seems silent and when we’re uncertain—and how all of those can either cause us to walk away from God or cause us to draw nearer to God. The choice is really ours in every situation. We can choose to stay on the main path or we can wander off onto one of the side paths. We can choose to be found or to be lost. But what I love most about the parable we read this morning is the reminder that even if we are lost, we are still valuable, loved and wanted by God, our shepherd.

I realize that this sheep language is not native to us in twenty-first century Indiana as it would have been to Jesus’ first hearers in first century Palestine. None of us are shepherds, but shepherding was vital to the economy then, so this image was very much in the minds of his listeners. An average flock in that part of the world would be about a hundred sheep (cf. Keener, IVP Bible Background Commentary, pg. 93), and the family’s shepherd would usually be a young boy or girl. You might think of this as your first job; think of shepherding as the “fast food job” of the first century. Anyway, the shepherd would take the sheep around the countryside to different locations throughout the year, to places where there was enough grass to sustain the flock. Often flocks would travel together—partly for security and protection and partly because this gave them community. Because grass would grow the best in the wadis, those ravines like En Gedi, they would often gather in such locations and walk their sheep along the bottom of the ravine. So when I was walking up the ravine of En Gedi, I could picture how easy it would be for a sheep to wander off. Sheep are not the brightest animals; they will find a tuft of grass, nibble on it for a while, then see another one and wander over to it, and before you know it, it’s easy for a sheep to have nibbled itself lost.

I think that’s perhaps at least part of why Jesus pictures us as sheep. Not because we’re dumb, but because it’s easy for us to “nibble ourselves lost.” It’s easy for us to get distracted. It happens like this: we come to know Jesus and we’re surrounded by the flock, feasting on the word of God, and then something happens that either distracts us or discourages us—maybe both. And pretty soon we notice something over here that looks good. I won’t leave God, but I just want to check this out, and then from that vantage point we see something else. It’s easy to stay home a week, or two, or three, and pretty soon we’re separated from the flock. It’s easy to not read the Scriptures today, then tomorrow, and then I’ll get back to on the weekend, and pretty soon, we’ve nibbled ourselves lost. Whether from doubt or discouragement or just simple distraction, we end up lost and have no idea where the flock is.

Imagine a sheep who has gotten separated from the flock, nibbling here and there, and suddenly that sheep looks up and he is alone. Or maybe he’s not alone. There are predators out in the wilderness, looking for a lone sheep to devour. The danger is real and the sheep has no idea how to get back to the safety of the sheepfold and the flock. And then suddenly, just as it gets dark, here comes the shepherd. A good shepherd would take the sheep into the protective sheepfold at night and would count the sheep. He knew each one, and he would know if one is missing. And if one was missing, if one was lost, he would ask the community shepherds to keep an eye on the other ninety-nine and he would search until he found the one. So while this story is told as a parable, I can imagine it’s something that happened over and over again in this wilderness. Jesus tells it to remind the disciples and all of us of our value to the Father. “No one is inconsequential or unimportant. Every person counts with God” (Augsburger, Communicator’s Commentary: Matthew, pg. 217). The rabbis in that day taught that God was happier with a righteous person than a sinner, even a sinner who repents. But in Luke’s version of this same parable, Jesus said the exact opposite: “There will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent” (Luke 15:7). When the shepherd finds the one lost sheep, a party breaks out. It is a source of joy for heaven when the lost is found (cf. Augsburger 218).

So often we talk about us “finding Jesus,” but the Biblical language is the opposite. Jesus talks more about God the Father seeking out and finding those who are lost, those who are doubting, those who are discouraged. In Biblical language, we are not the center of the story; Jesus is. He is the one came to seek and save the lost (cf. Luke 19:10). He is the one who finds us. That’s why I love this scene from the film Amazing Grace. The film tells the story of 19th century British politician William Wilberforce, who was influenced by preachers like John Newton (author of the hymn) and John Wesley to take on the challenge of abolishing slavery in Great Britain. He literally gave his whole life to that cause, but early on in his career, he had a profound encounter with God. Take a look at the way that is depicted in the film.

VIDEO: “Amazing Grace: He Found Me”

“Did you find God?” “I think he found me.” That’s my story. For a long time early on in my Christian life, I didn’t feel like I had much to say. I don’t have one of those dramatic, life-altering, “Damascus Road” experiences to share. I wasn’t a bad kid, I didn’t do drugs, and I didn’t have a bad childhood that I overcame. I grew up in the church, baptized as a baby at the Sedalia Methodist Church. They closed that church soon after, so I like to say that after they baptized me, the church recognized they had reached the pinnacle of their ministry and so they closed the building. But I may have made that up. Anyway, some of my best memories from early on center around the Rossville United Methodist Church. My family was very active there, and we were one of those families that were pretty much in the building any time the doors were open. Well, that’s not entirely true, because when I was a kid, the church doors were always open. They were never locked and you didn’t have to have a key to get in. The world was a lot different then.

So I grew up learning the Bible stories, going to Vacation Bible School and Sunday School, singing in the kids’ choir when we had one, and learning the true value of the church meal! I didn’t have the language for it then, but I experienced a whole lot of what I would later understand as “prevenient grace,” the way God works in our lives even before we’re aware of it. When my parents brought me for baptism, Jesus claimed me and he never let go of me, even if I spent a lot of years unaware of his presence or uncaring that he was there. Prevenient grace means that God is working, keeping us from going so far away that we can’t come back to him. Prevenient grace is the “grace that goes before,” experienced through Sunday School teachers and pastors and parents like those this morning what are bringing/have brought their children before God and asked his blessing on them. In my prevenient grace years, I knew about Jesus, but it was in a basement classroom during Vacation Bible School that something the teacher (we would call them crew leaders today) said “clicked” with me. I don’t remember any of her words. I don’t know what stories we studied that year. I just remember somehow realizing that I could not get by on my mom and dad’s faith. I needed to know Jesus personally, and not just as “that guy they talk about at church,” but as a personal friend and savior. I had to ask him to forgive my sins and to come into my life. So I did that, in the basement classroom on one of the last days at VBS. And that’s why VBS is so important to me, why I emphasize it every year. I am living proof that lives can change because of VBS.

I can’t say there was a blinding white light or singing angels or that my life radically changed in an instant. But my life did change, bit by bit, because Jesus had found me. He moved into my life and began his work in me (cf. Philippians 1:6). Jesus found me at VBS, but that hasn’t been the only time he found me. When I left home and moved to Muncie to attend Ball State, I went with a bit of fear and trembling. Not only was it my first time to live on my own, Muncie was a whole lot bigger than Sedalia. There were more people on my floor in my dorm than there were in my hometown! But Jesus found me there, in the midst of all those people, and not only connected me with fantastic Christian community through InterVarsity and the small group I became a part of, but he also used that time to clarify a call my mom says she always knew I had. At a time in my life when it would have been easy to “nibble myself lost,” Jesus found me.

After Ball State, I got married and three months later we moved to Wilmore, Kentucky—which is not the end of the world, but you can see it from there. Life at Asbury Seminary taught me about worship—making all of my life an act of worship—and about community—learning to depend on one another. I remember Professor Boyd telling us one morning about his belief that becoming a pastor cut your chances of going to heaven in half. Of course, he was trying to be funny (not something Professor Boyd did often) but he was also deadly serious. When you deal with holy things, it’s easy to take those things for granted. When you’re paid to talk about God, it’s easy to let “God” become an academic or even a professional thing and the relationship can grow cold. I am not strong enough to resist that temptation, but thankfully I don’t have to be. God found me, and one of the things he continues to use to remind me who and whose I am is my ordination. In those days, you worked on your ordination paperwork during your time in seminary; that’s all changed now, but I was accepted for my first of two ordinations during my third year at Asbury. That year Bishop Hodapp laid hands on my head and God found me. Three years later, Bishop White did the same thing, and Bishop White also challenged us that year in the ordination service to have a place for miracles in our ministry. Don’t get so bogged down in the business and the ordinary that you miss the miracles. There’s not a lot of sermons I remember, certainly not ones that were preached twenty-five years ago. Heck, I barely remember the sermon I preached last week! But I remember what Bishop White said to us on that night in May 1995. As I’ve kept my heart and mind and eyes open for God’s work, for miracles, in my ministry, God continues to find me over and over again. And it is a joy and a blessing to be found.

Just one more time I want to share about, though I could probably go on all afternoon, but you don’t have time for that! I had a profound experience on my Walk to Emmaus, now almost twenty-five years ago. For those of you who don’t know, Walk to Emmaus is a three-day spiritual retreat that is basically a crash course in Christianity. It’s also an experience of being loved by God through the community of faith. That’s about the best I can explain it, because it’s something you really have to experience to truly understand. When I took part in the Walk to Emmaus, I had been in youth ministry for a little over two years, and I was weary. Have I ever told you the only department I took no classes from during seminary was the youth ministry department? So, in their wisdom, the Bishop and Cabinet saw fit for my first appointment to be in youth ministry. About a month after I began, I took twenty students to summer camp—and I had never been to summer camp before. That’s kind of how that first year went: I was literally making it up or learning it as I went! So I went on Emmaus, and during one of the chapel times, I had what I can only describe as a vision. I don’t normally have experiences like that, but during that prayer, I had this picture in my head of me, worn down, sort of dirty and obviously tired. And then Jesus appeared and he wrapped a white robe around me, reminding me that I was his child, no matter what else might happen. It didn’t last long, but that vision has stayed with me and shaped me ever since. It has taken me through several difficult times in ministry. I am God’s child and he knows where I am and what I’ve been through. God found me. There, at a northeast Indiana campground, God found me, and I experienced once again the joy and the contentment of being found.

I tell you parts of my story this morning not to lift myself up or to make it seem like I’m someone special. I tell you my story because it’s mine; it’s the only story I know. And it’s pretty ordinary, which is proof that if God can and does find me in ordinary situations and circumstances, he can and will find you too in the midst of your ordinary days. My hope, too, is that by sharing my story, I might encourage you to think about the times when God has found you. Sometimes we get stuck on the doubts, on the questions, and the problems or challenges in our lives seem too big to conquer. Because God has a “still, small voice” and often comes in quiet and unexpected ways, it’s easy for us to miss him, or to forget those times when he found us. It was good for me this week to remember, and maybe it would be good for you to do so, too. Maybe you could share stories in your LifeGroup this week. Maybe you could help each other see and remember those times when God found you. Some of you will remember that on my very first Sunday here at Mount Pleasant, I asked you all a question: what’s your story? How did God find you? And can you tell that story to someone else?

Friends, we serve a God who searches for lost sheep. There’s a beautiful passage in the book of Ezekiel that, I speculate, might have been in Jesus’ mind when he told this parable. Ezekiel was a prophet of the exile; that means he was taken away from his homeland to Babylon and he preached there even while Jerusalem was being attacked. His preaching spans twenty years and during that time Ezekiel receives sporadic news of what is happening back home. Yet he is part of the community-in-exile, part of the lost ones of Judah (cf. Cultural Backgrounds Study Bible, pg. 1332). In chapter 34, after he receives word that Jerusalem has fallen, has finally been destroyed, he receives a word from the Lord, a promise of hope and restoration—a promise of being found. God tells Ezekiel to tell the people of Judah, “I will search for the lost and bring back the strays. I will bind up the injured and strengthen the weak, but the sleek and the strong I will destroy. I will shepherd the flock with justice” (Ezekiel 34:16). Short version: I will find you. You may be far from home. You may be lost now, but I will find you. And when I do, you will know the joy of being found because I will bring you home. And though it takes seventy years, God does just that. He brings the people back from exile, and he gives them back their homeland. Even in exile, even in doubts, even in lostness and a place that lacks hope, God finds them. It is a joy to be found.

I wonder today if there is someone here God is searching for. I wonder if there is someone here this morning who has let their doubts be a smokescreen for unbelief. You want proof, you want answers, you want certainty, but none of those things will lead to faith, true faith. Even if God opened the heavens today and offered you irrefutable proof, your soul knows that’s not really what you need. What you truly want, what you truly need, is to be found. The Scottish pastor George MacDonald once put it this way: “My business is not to prove to any other [person] that there is a God, but to find [God] for myself.” There are “logical” reasons to believe, but ultimately it all comes down to this: even with your doubts, even without all the answers, are you willing to trust and believe? Do you want to be found? Author C. S. Lewis said, “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.” When we have been found by the shepherd, when we are safely brought back to the flock, when we come to know the shepherd, we see life differently. We live life the way God intended us to.

It’s simple, really. We invite Jesus to find us, to come into our lives and walk with us. When we ask him to live within us, we will find him to be a faithful friend who will guide us like a shepherd from within. I love the way J. B. Phillips talks about this in his translation of Colossians 1:27: “The secret is simply this: Christ in you! Yes, Christ in you bringing with him the hope of all glorious things to come.” To be found is a glorious thing and it begins when you say “yes” to Christ living in you.

Billy Graham unquestionably proclaimed the Gospel of Jesus Christ in the last century to more people than anyone else. He preached literally around the world, led publishing efforts and pioneered television and other media outlets as platforms for the good news about Jesus. Things we take for granted he was probably involved in early on. But Graham was not always an absolutely confident proclaimer of the faith. Especially early on in his life, he had serious doubts about the Bible and the Christian faith. Could it stand up to the modern world? Graham was at a retreat center as he wrestled with his doubts, and he knew he could not keep preaching what he did not believe. So he took a prayer walk through the woods, and stopping at a tree stump, he opened his Bible. There in that suddenly holy place, he prayed, “Father, I am going to accept this as Thy Word—by faith! I’m going to allow faith to go beyond my intellectual questions and doubts, and I will believe this to be Your inspired Word.” He says when he rose from that time of prayer, he sensed the presence of God in a way he had not for months. He did not have all of his questions answered, but he had come to a point where he could move forward with God and trust that God would lead him (cf. Graham, Just As I Am, pgs. 138-139). There in the forest, God found Billy Graham once again, and here in this place, he can and will find you, too. You can be found this morning as we turn to a time of prayer.