This past week, I attended graduate student orientation at Martin Luther. We started the day at Wilfred Laurier, the affiliated university. Hundreds of students gathered at the breakfast. As I was entering what I believed was the right building, another student was coming in as well, so I asked for confirmation. When he spoke, I detected an accent and asked if he was Steve, another Martin Luther student. Surprise! He was. What a coincidence. We had something we could talk about and could support one another as we navigated the morning. In time, however, I realised the accent I was hearing was because he was deaf from birth. When he shared about his courses, we came to realise he is a master’s level student while I am doctoral level. When I went to Luther, I also came to realise that the student I was thinking of from my program is named Simon who is from Denmark and does have an accent. Whoops. I don’t know why I thought Steve at that time. I do know that I was able to help Steve navigate through the morning, restating announcements he likely didn’t hear and helping clarify his needs to the organisers when confusion arose. So maybe God had a purpose. ‘Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? Steve, and I weren’t technically lost. We were both taking tentative steps at the start of new adventure. There are aspects of who we are that set us apart from many of the students gathering that morning – age, profession, faith, ability. Without that initial interaction, we may have both ended up sitting alone until we went to Luther and met our respective cohorts. Lost can mean many things. ‘Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbours, saying to them, “Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.” Lost can mean many things. Sometimes it is the sin of the lost which has caused separation. Sometimes it is the sin of the community that has caused exclusion. The distinctions don’t seem to matter to Jesus. Whatever has led to separation. Whatever has left someone outside. Whatever has caused the disconnect. Jesus seeks us out and bring us home to be INCLUDED as we are in the community. To celebrate a homecoming is to place a person at the centre, to honour the value they bring to the community, to embrace the individual as they are trusting that that is not only enough but a gift to all. ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost… Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’ God created each and every human being. God knows our potential, our gifts, what we can bring to the table. God wants us to create space for everyone, everything, because out of love God has created with wisdom and wonder beyond anything we can ask or imagine. Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.’ Joy over one sinner who repents. Joy over one community who repents. Joy when the world seeks to see as God sees – the value and worth of all that God has created, every person, every animal, every plant, every insect, everything that lives and moves and has its being has value and worth in the eyes of God. When humanity sees the same, when we seek to reconcile our relationship with each other and with creation, it is a form of repentance that God and angels celebrate. ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost… Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’ Who is lost that needs to be found? What is lost that needs to be found? How can we be catalysts for that powerful reconciliation? With hope for the ongoing work of reconciliation with each other and all Creation, let us pray as we sing together: The Kingdom of God is the Queerest of Nations
