Lost But Now Found: The God Who Seeks Us

September 12, 2025

Lost But Now Found: The God Who Seeks Us

September 14, 2025

Opening Thought

Anyone who has ever loved a pet knows the unique, gut-wrenching panic of the moment you realize they are gone. The world narrows to a single, frantic purpose: finding them. You drop everything. You call their name until your voice is hoarse, you search every familiar place and then every unfamiliar one, and you imagine the worst while praying for the best. In that moment of searching, nothing else matters. You would do absolutely anything to bring them home safely.

This deep-seated impulse to seek what is lost, to go to any length to recover what is precious, actually reveals something profound about God. Too often, we imagine God as a distant, stern judge, waiting for us to prove ourselves worthy. We assume our spiritual life is a difficult journey back to him, where we must struggle and strive to earn an audience. But what if the truth is far more astonishing? What if God is the One doing the frantic searching, the relentless calling, the passionate pursuing?

This Sunday, our readings and music paint a radically different picture—a portrait of a God who doesn't wait for us to find him, but who actively, joyfully, and with "utmost patience" (as Paul testifies, even for a "blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence" like himself) seeks us out when we are lost, determined to bring us back into his fold. It is a profound truth that echoes in our own human experience of loss and longing, as I've come to know deeply through the life and passing of my dear friend, Steve. It is the story of a God who will stop at nothing to find you.

Engaging the Word

This week’s Gospel in Luke is a direct response to the grumbling of the Pharisees and scribes, who complain that Jesus “welcomes sinners and eats with them”. In response, Jesus tells two of his most beloved parables: the Lost Sheep and the Lost Coin. In both stories, the central character—a shepherd, a woman—possesses something precious, loses it, and then stops everything to search relentlessly until it is found. The climax of both stories is not judgment, but unrestrained joy and a party with friends and neighbors. “Just so,” Jesus says, “there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents”.

This image of a seeking, merciful God is powerfully reinforced in our other readings. In Exodus, the people have grievously sinned by creating the golden calf. God’s anger burns hot, yet Moses intercedes, reminding God of his own promises. In a stunning display of mercy, "the Lord changed his mind about the disaster that he planned to bring on his people". Paul’s testimony in 1 Timothy is the personal, human result of this divine mercy. He calls himself the “foremost” of sinners—a blasphemer and a man of violence—yet he "received mercy" and overflowing grace. Paul sees his own life as the prime example of Christ's "utmost patience".

Psalm 51 is our own proper response to such overwhelming grace. It is a heartfelt cry for the very mercy we have just witnessed, praying, "Have mercy on me, O God, according to your loving-kindness; in your great compassion blot out my offenses".

A Journey in Song

Our music this week wraps us in the story of grace, moving from our tendency to wander to the joy of being found, and culminating in a response of profound gratitude.

The Entrance Hymn: "Come, thou fount of every blessing" (Hymn #686) This hymn perfectly captures the central tension of the day. We begin by celebrating God as the "fount of every blessing," yet in the second verse, we confess our own nature: "Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love". It sets the stage for the Gospel, acknowledging our "lostness" while simultaneously trusting in the God who lovingly seeks to find us and "seal it for thy courts above".

The Sequence Hymn: "Amazing grace! how sweet the sound" (Hymn #671) As we prepare for the Gospel parables, we sing perhaps the most famous hymn of being lost and found. John Newton's powerful words, "I once was lost, but now am found, was blind, but now I see," become the voice of the sheep found by the shepherd and the coin found by the woman. It is the personal testimony of every person who has been sought out and saved by God's relentless mercy.

The Anthem: "Create in Me a Clean Heart, O God" (Carl F. Mueller) The choir offers a beautiful and direct prayer from the heart of our Psalm for the day. This setting of Psalm 51 is the soul’s deep sigh of repentance and longing for renewal. After hearing of God’s joy in finding the lost, the anthem becomes our own plea to be made new, asking God to "Create in me a clean heart... and renew a right spirit within me".

The Post-Communion Hymn: "Now thank we all our God" (Hymn #397) Having been found by God in the Word and fed at His table, our only possible response is gratitude. This joyful hymn of thanksgiving is the perfect conclusion to the liturgy. We thank the God who "from our mother's arms hath blessed us on our way with countless gifts of love," recognizing that His mercy has been seeking us our entire lives. It is the song of the party in heaven, sung by the found.

A Closing Note on Our Journey

The peace of God is not something we achieve, but something we receive. This week's liturgy invites us to lay down the burden of striving and perfecting ourselves, and instead, to rest in the joyful, astonishing assurance that you are sought after. The love Christ Jesus has for you is boundless, unending, infinite. God will go to the very ends of the universe for you. For you. This truth frees us: we are the lost coin, the wandering sheep, and God will stop at nothing to bring each one of us home.

This truth takes on a particularly poignant meaning for me as I remember my friend Steve, on the third anniversary of his passing. He was a man who brought so much joy and unwavering love, especially to our youth. He often put the needs of others above his own. Yet, beneath that bright spirit, he carried a pain too great to express, a pain we weren't equipped to identify. His story reminds us that sometimes, even when we are deeply loved, the path home can feel impossibly difficult to navigate alone.

What gives me comfort, and what this week’s Gospel profoundly affirms, is the belief that Steve was, and is, a precious child of God. I know he is resting peacefully in heaven, because God’s relentless love did not, and would not, stop seeking him.

Please, if you or someone you know is struggling with a pain that feels too heavy to carry, never let shame keep you silent. There is no burden too big, nothing too embarrassing to share, and it is never, ever too late to ask for help. There are people who want to listen.

The 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline is free, confidential, and available 24/7. Just call or text 988.

As you reflect on this boundless love, I pray these words prepare your heart for our time of worship. Please join me again next Friday as we continue our journey.

A Prayer for the Week Ahead

Let us pray for the Church and for the world.

For the Church, the body of Christ, that we may reflect God's relentless love, actively seeking out the lost and celebrating with joy the return of all who wander from the fold,