SERMON FOR JULY 18, 2021                TEXT: MARK 6:30-34, 53-56

          I was reading a book by my favorite professor, Brian Gerrish, and I came upon this striking passage in his discussion of sin:    “In the story of Israel, sin is naturally viewed as a rebellious people’s spurning the covenant. The gospel of Jesus, on the other hand, did not come only as judgment on the sin of going after other gods. It was also — and foremost— addressed as good news to persons who were burdened by hardship and pain. Jesus could certainly denounce the presumptuous sins of the self-righteous. But, according to the Gospels, he understood his ministry to be the fulfillment of the prophecy of Isaiah: the Spirit had anointed him to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind . . . . Remarkably, this was not the angry messiah John the Baptist anticipated . . . .    Jesus’ mission was to the lost . . . and the series of parables in Luke 15 suggests that there are more ways than one of being lost.” The parables in question include the stories of the prodigal son, the shepherd who leaves 99 of his sheep in the wilderness to search for the one that has disappeared, and the woman who won’t rest until she recovers the silver coin that has gone missing in her house. As Mr. Gerrish points out, the prodigal son got lost willfully, but the sheep wandered off aimlessly, and the coin just fell victim to circumstance. And in each case there is rejoicing when the lost is found.

          In today’s Gospel Jesus, our good shepherd, seeks respite for himself and his disciples, who have been out among the people, traveling to the surrounding villages, teaching, casting out demons and curing the sick. They need a break, for as Mark tells us, the demands on them were constant to the point where “they had no leisure even to eat.” So Jesus tries to spirit them away to a deserted place where they can chill out in private. But they are spotted climbing into the boat to make their getaway, and the people hurry after them. By the time the twelve and their teacher arrive at the designated deserted place, it is no longer deserted. “As he went ashore, [Jesus] saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.”

          How exhausting it must be for Jesus to be constantly in charge of God’s lost and found. We often proudly go our own way, self-absorbed, foolish prodigals. And when we come to our senses, we can be sure who will be waiting for us, keeping the light on and his heart open for however long it takes, not shaming us with the obvious question, “What the heck is the matter with you?” Then again, sometimes we get left behind by accident, like a dropped coin or a forgotten toy in the driveway, waiting to be retrieved. And when we are discovered, the Lord may well be as surprised as we are, wondering, “How did you end up there?” Or we’re confident we are headed in the right direction, until suddenly we aren’t. Then we too are like sheep in serious need of a shepherd.

          When I was a little girl, my absolute favorite book was Blueberries for Sal by Robert McCloskey. I checked it out of the Annapolis Public Library constantly and made my mom read it to me daily. I would have renewed that book to eternity, if I could have. Fortunately my parents made sure Santa gave me my own copy for Christmas. Little Sal trails along behind her mother up one side of Blueberry Hill, ostensibly helping her pick berries. When her feet get tired, Sal plops down in the middle of a patch of bushes and eats blueberries to her heart’s content. On the other side of the hill Little Bear is hustling along behind his mother. He too succumbs to fatigue and, like Sal, settles down in a clump of bushes and devotes all his energy to eating blueberries. By the time the two youngsters are ready to move again, their respective mothers are out of sight, and they end up following the wrong one. The two mothers eventually discover the mix-up. Then they prudently hurry away from the alien young ‘un unexpectedly tailing them to search for the child they came with. “Little Sal’s mother hadn’t gone very far before she heard a kuplink! kuplank! kuplunk! She knew just what made that kind of a noise! [Little Sal dropping berries in her pail.]    Little Bear’s mother had not hunted very long before she heard a hustling sound that stopped now and then to munch and swallow. She knew just what made that kind of a noise. Little Bear and his mother went down one side of Blueberry Hill, eating blueberries all the way, and full of food stored up for next winter. And Little Sal and her mother went down the other side of Blueberry Hill, picking berries all the way, and drove home with food to can for next winter — a whole pail of blueberries and three more besides.”

          No malice aforethought here, no oppositional defiance disorder or fullblown sinful rebellion. These aren’t prodigal offspring. The little girl and the bear cub get distracted, separated and confused. They end up following the wrong moms, but the right ones come after them. How wonderful to be rescued from your wandering, to be sought and found and on your way home again with the one who loves you.

          There are indeed more ways than one to be lost. Wherever we end up, however we got there, Jesus has us in his sights. He comes to us to show the way, to mend the fault and heal the pain. Even though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we need fear no evil; for the Lord is with us; his rod and staff our comfort still, his cross before to guide us. Amen.