North Wilkesboro Presbyterian Church

What do you think? If a shepherd has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. So it is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost. (Matthew 18:12–14)

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus tells the so-called “Parable of the Lost Sheep” for a somewhat different reason that he does in the Gospel of Luke. In Luke’s more familiar version, the sheep appears to represent the general “sinner” – it could be anyone. But in Matthew’s version of the story, the lost sheep is associated with “one of these little ones” – a reference to the little children whom Jesus says are “the greatest in the kingdom of heaven” (see Matt. 18:1–5). Children in the ancient world were powerless – mere objects or property – so it is ironic that as the disciples argue (or, as the Church argues) over who is the greatest, Jesus displays utmost concern for those deemed the least of these in society.

In his book Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption, Bryan Stevenson says it best:

My work with the poor and the incarcerated has persuaded me that the opposite of poverty is not wealth; the opposite of poverty is justice . . . the true measure of our commitment to justice, the character of our society, our commitment to the rule of law, fairness, and equality cannot be measured by how we treat the rich, the powerful, the privileged, and the respected among us. The true measure of our character is how we treat the poor, the disfavored, the accused, the incarcerated, and the condemned.

We are all implicated when we allow other people to be mistreated. An absence of compassion can corrupt the decency of a community, a state, a nation. Fear and anger can make us vindictive and abusive, unjust and unfair, until we all suffer from the absence of mercy and we condemn ourselves as much as we victimize others. (Stevenson, Just Mercy, 18)

In Jesus’ world and in Stevenson’s mind, no one should be lost and forgotten. What about in your world and mine?            – rc

How very good and pleasant it is

when kindred live together in unity!

It is like the precious oil on the head,

running down upon the beard,

on the beard of Aaron,

running down over the collar of his robes.

It is like the dew of Hermon,

which falls on the mountains of Zion.

For there the LORD ordained his blessing,

life forevermore. (Psalm 133)

Psalm 133 falls within a collection of psalms called “The Psalms of Ascent.” These were songs thought to be sung as people made their way up to the Temple to worship together. Ironically, although the people make their way up toward the Temple, everything in the psalm sings of things coming down: precious oil runs down upon Aaron’s beard, oil runs down over his robes, the dew falls down on the mountains, and it all culminates in the blessing of God coming down from the heavens. But it’s the unity that makes it all happen – the whole psalm is a word picture of what it feels like to live together as one, unified people.

This is indeed a psalm for our own time and place: “How very good and pleasant it [will be] when kindred live together in unity!” (v. 1). May this be our way forward as we seek to become one human family. – rc

How lovely is your dwelling place,

O LORD of hosts!

My soul longs, indeed it faints

for the courts of the LORD;

my heart and my flesh sing for joy

to the living God. (Psalm 81:1–2)

One of the more difficult things for our community of faith during this strange time is that we are not worshipping in our sanctuary. Although we don’t view our sanctuaries like those in the ancient world (as literal houses for deities), we do hold our houses of prayer as special, sacred spaces. There’s something comforting and peaceful about our worshipping spaces that calms our anxieties and soothes our souls. In Psalm 84, the psalmist sings out about her desire to be in the house of the LORD, to be worshipping in the temple. Her heart and flesh sing out to God and the very essence of her being longs to be there. The psalmist’s song echoes in many of our hearts as we too long to be back in our sanctuaries . . . and, to be sure, the days are coming when we will be together again in the comfort of our pews. But until then, we remember that creation itself is God’s sanctuary: the mountains and trees, the lands and the seas all testify with you and with me about the goodness and glory of God. – rc

For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Galatians 5:13–14)

There’s no doubt that we live in an increasing polarized world and it seems to me that much of this division has been caused by an extreme view of our individual rights. There’s no doubt that we have been afforded tremendous freedom here in our own country, but we seem to have lost the sense that our individual freedoms are always connected to the broad well-being of others. In his letter to the Galatians, Paul reinforces our call toward neighborliness by reminding us that we have been freed so that we might be bound to one another (v. 13); we have been freed so that we might love our neighbor as ourselves (v. 14); we have been freed so that we might love. Individual freedom is always a call to love others.                            – rc

Jesus answered, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”

She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” (Matthew 15:26–27)

IMHO, this is perhaps the single most difficult reading about Jesus in the gospels. He encounters a Canaanite woman in desperate need and instead of offering compassionate assistance, he dehumanizes her, likening her to a dog. While many have tried to justify Jesus’ response, to do so misses the point. Just as Abraham argues with God and Moses argues with God, so too does this unnamed Canaanite woman argue with Jesus . . . and because of her faith and her cries for justice, Jesus is changed; he sees her differently; he sees her humanity. Let us recognize the ways in which we turn a blind eye to the humanity in others and let us grow as a people who stand up in faith and cry out for justices so that we might unite as one human family. – rc