The Lost Sheep and the Lost Coin (The Rev. Dr. Richard Smith; Year C, Proper 19; September 15, 2013

The other day I was looking for something at the bottom of my backpack. My backpack is like the purses of many women. It’s a virtual Bermuda Triangle where things mysteriously disappear. When you reach in, you never know what you might find: an old key to I can't remember what, an expired Muni transfer ticket, an occasional dollar bill.

The other day, I reached in and pulled out this purple button with the words “More Love”.

If you’ve been around St. John’s a few years, you will recognize this. “More Love” has been our mantra here for many years. The words express what is in our DNA as human beings, as followers of Jesus, as members of this parish. We each desire more life, more beauty, more joy and laughter, and especially more love.

It's the way God made us, this desire for an ever greater fullness and completeness. More Love.

And in today's gospel about the lost sheep and the lost coin, Jesus suggests that this very same desire is found in the heart of God.

The numbers 100 and 10 are symbols of wholeness and completeness. In these stories, the wholeness has been broken: one of the 100 sheep is lost, one of the 10 coins is missing.

There is an incompleteness, and with that incompleteness comes a restlessness, a drive for wholeness. And so the shepherd is driven to climb through cracks and crevices, run over hill and dale to find the one lost sheep. 

And the woman searches the entire house maybe three or four times looking for this stupid coin. She goes through the trash, looks under the beds, checks her husband’s pockets. She lies awake at night, wondering where she has failed to look, or where she might look again more thoroughly. She talks to all her friends. She wonders if she’s losing her mind.

And then one day, when she is sweeping in a place she’s already been over more than once, she sees a glint of metal. There it is, scuttling across the floor! And so she goes back to all her friends--the same ones who have had to listen to her talk about losing the coin--and they share her joy and relief.

This woman and this shepherd are symbols of God and of God’s insatiable desire for fullness, completeness, more love.

I see this desire for fullness, for more love, at work our parish. It is what has moved us to do our work together the past few months. During the first few months of the year, we shared our stories in small groups in each others homes. We talked about those things that keep us awake at night:

• Things like what's going to happen to each of us and the people we care about as we get older 
• And our fear of violence, not just here in the Mission but in our own neighborhoods
• And the sense of isolation we can feel in this vast post-modern urban landscape

Each of these issues in its own way echoes the desire we each have for more life, more love. And these stories have led us to move in some bold new directions.

For example, last week our Bishop's Committee decided to officially become part of the San Francisco Organizing Project (SFOP), a federation of 30 faith communities working to improve the City. Because we’re not the only ones who have lied awake at night worrying about aging and violence and isolation.

• Many people in San Francisco worry about their futures as they and their parents get older. Right now, the Affordable Health Care Act , Obamacare, is being rolled out across the country. Here in San Francisco, our political leaders are making decisions that will affect people like our own beloved Nico and Marie Fowler and many of us sitting right here this morning. Because of our partnership with SFOP, people like Nico and Marie and others in our parish will be able to sit down with people like the Mayor and other political leaders, telling them our needs, making sure that people in our community are not left out of the decisions affecting our healthcare as we get older. At the risk of sounding flip, we hope to see a little “more love” from our elected officials.
• We’re not the only ones who worry about violence in our neighborhoods. Again in partnership with the faith communities in SFOP, we will have the chance to address this fear head on. For example, we’ll be able to join other faith communities in nightwalks. In these nightwalks, clergy and people of faith spend an evening each week walking as a group through the most dangerous streets of their towns, providing a presence of peace, urging an end to the violence. These nightwalks are already well underway in Oakland and Richmond, and where they have walked, the homicide rate has dropped by as much as 30%. A few lives saved. A little less violence in our neighborhoods, a little more love. You’ll hear more about nightwalks in the coming weeks.
• And we’re not the only ones who feel isolated in our rapidly changing, individualistic urban scene. One of our best antidotes to this isolation is right here in our own parish community and what happens each week around this table as we recommit ourselves to each other and to the work that Jesus has called us to. 

But there are other things happening in our parish:

• The pastoral care team has been reviving itself to help us stay more connected.
• I try to send out a weekly e-newsletter to help keep us in touch. 
• A few folks are working on a way for parishioners to meet in small groups to share our lives and faith in more intimate settings.

All of these are ways to counter the isolation we can sometimes feel, to find here in our parish more love.

That love goes beyond the walls of our parish and community.

• As you may know, one out of five Latino kids in the Mission now lives in poverty--nearly twice San Francisco’s poverty rate. Seven of the 10 lowest performing schools in San Francisco are here in the Mission. It's why years ago this parish gave birth to Mission Graduates, to help kids stay in school, graduate from high school, and go on to college. It’s one of our City’s strongest community-based academic programs. This year we’ve renewed and deepened our connection with Mission Graduates. You can see them once again using this space for their special trainings and celebrations, and they are happy to remember that St. John's is their home.
• We've continued our connection to El Porvenir, the amazing organization that helps people in rural Nicaragua dig wells to bring clean water to the people of their villages.
• Every Saturday morning, at our the Julian Pantry, 250-300 people receive food.
• Every Thursday noon, our own Robert Cromey vigils at the Federal Building for an end to the wars.
• And we've stood by many Latino families in our neighborhood who have been at risk of being torn apart by our broken immigration system, sometimes trying to stop an unjust deportation, at other times joining them in calling for immigration reform.

These are just our collective efforts. I could go on to describe the amazing things that each of you do every day on your jobs and other volunteer efforts around the Bay Area.

This desire for More Love keeps moving us to do some amazing things.

And this is the context for what I want to say next, about what it takes for us to do these amazing things.

For example, one thing essential to our ministries is this amazing space.

Have you noticed how the light is in here around, say, 5 or 6pm? Something happens to people who come here that time of evening. They might stumble in here unwittingly, thinking they were coming to just another meeting to strategize about immigration reform, or plan a press conference around the foreclosure issue, or talk about their experiences as transgendered women and the assaults and violence they've been experiencing at the 16th street BART station.

They might come here thinking it’s for just another planning meeting. But while they're here in this space, something happens. Other parts of their heart open up. Suddenly they are talking not just about politics and strategies and plans, but also about their faith and how it sustains them through all their struggles. They let down their guard and talk about the faith of their immigrant parents who brought them to this country for a better life, their trust that even in the midst of their struggles God is very near to them.

I've seen this more than once. It is always unplanned. I don't completely understand it, and yet I marvel each time I see it. Something about this space.

When I see this, it makes so very worthwhile all the work the wardens and Bishop's Committee do to maintain this space: replacing the roof, keeping the heat on, sweeping and mopping and vacuuming, cleaning the carpets and the furniture, securing the premises, keeping things in good repair. All these nitty gritty, mundane tasks without which none of our efforts to find and share More Love could ever happen here.

And there are the smaller things: 

• A temperamental copy machine, computers, phones, electricity, heat, cleaning supplies, light bulbs.
• And a part-time staff: a parish administrator to make the service bulletins, answer the phone, run to the bank, manage the paperwork 
• A music director to gather our dulcet tones during liturgy each week 
• A sexton to help keep the space clean 
• And, of course. yours truly (thanks for helping me support my family)

When we talk about More Love, we're talking about all these nitty gritty things. This is how More Love happens, becomes real. 

It's our fundraising season. Over the next few weeks we’ll each be discerning how we will participate financially in the life and work of this amazing parish. In a couple of weeks, we will each be asked to fill out a card stating the amount we plan to contribute over the coming year. This information will make it possible for our Bishop’s Committee to create a budget and plan the year ahead.

Please pray about this, so that your decision is grounded not just in running the numbers in your checkbook, but in a deeper place, in your heart and what you believe, the values you cherish, the kind of person you want to be.

Our tradition invites us to tithe, and it’s a worthy goal for all of us. This means giving away 10% of our income. You can give part of that 10% to the church and the rest to other good works.

You may decide that you’re not able to tithe this year. No worries, give what you can. No pledge is too small. I’m thinking of the African proverb: “If you think you're too small to make a difference, you haven't spent a night with a mosquito.”

Be as generous as you can, even if you sometimes feel like a mosquito.

Be like the crazy shepherd and the compulsive-obsessive woman in today’s gospel, driven for a desire for wholeness, a greater fullness. Let your financial discernment be grounded in your heart’s deepest desire for more love.