JR. Forasteros - October 12, 2014
Lost and Found
We typically imagine God to be in Church, among the religious people. Or possibly in Heaven, surrounded by worshippers. But when some religious people in his day find Jesus partying with sinners and are scandalized, Jesus tells them a story about God's love for lost things. God is out there, searching restlessly until all who were lost are found!
From Series: "You Had to Be There"
The way Jesus taught attracted every kind of person, from the ultra-religious to the irreligious. What was it about his teaching? We miss how provocative his parables were because we're not first century Galilean peasants. In this series, we ask what it would be like if Jesus came today. What would his stories sound like? Just how good is this good news? Trust us... you had to be there.
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In the years after Hurricane Katrina devastated the city of New Orleans, I went to the city to do relief work several times. It was during those trips I learned that what victims of disasters want most isn’t necessarily the relief work. Every trip went more-or-less the same:
A big group of us would show up and get to work. Maybe we were gutting a home so it could be cleansed of mold and rebuilt. Maybe we were cleaning up vacant lots to beautify a city block for the other residents. Mostly we were gutting homes – tearing out sheetrock and ripping up flooring. It was brutal, exhausting work, particularly in the New Orleans summers.
The residents would always be nearby, helping if they could or in their FEMA trailers making lemonade for us workers.
And inevitably, over the three or four days we were there, each of us would end up just sitting and talking with that resident. Despite the fact that we were on a schedule. Even though we were working hard to get their home finished.
What they needed most wasn’t a new home (though, obviously, that was important).
What they needed most wasn’t our strong backs and hard work. What they needed most, every time, was human interaction. They needed to tell their story, to be seen and heard, to know they’re not alone in their grief.
Again and again, what gave them hope was not the pounding hammers and loaded wheelbarrows, but a person sitting with them, being present with them.
What does it means to be WITH someone in times of grief? The final movement of Lament is hope, an anticipation that grief is not the final word.
