PCM Student Sunday
February 16, 2025
Matthew 18:10-14
Macie Fitzgerald’s sermon:
Good morning. It’s an honor to represent PCM this morning. I’m Macie, one of four seniors preaching this morning. I came to PCM my freshman year and have spent the past three years in fellowship with a group of amazing people I am lucky to have found.
UPC is in the middle of a sermon series on parables, and today we turn to the parable of the lost sheep! Jesus’s parables tell a story that convey a message for the listeners then, as well as us now. Parables can have many different interpretations. As you’ll hear, each of us will offer our own take on the same parable based on our unique lived experiences and perspectives.
When I first came face to face with this parable, I noticed a little verse at the end that says: “it is not the will of the Father that any of these little ones should be lost”. That is what I see as the cliff notes of the parable of the lost sheep: it is God’s will that none should be lost.
Following the vein of Jesus’ love for metaphors, I’ll place this parable in a different context to help us think about it. To some, being the lost sheep feels like floating out in the middle of the ocean, clinging to a single piece of plywood, no land in sight.
Some folks out there feel this panic, this sense of helplessness. No fresh water, no food, sunburnt. Some people will be out there on that plywood and not even realize it. “I left on my own,” they’ll say. “I’m fine. I can kick myself back to shore!” There are feelings among these lost sheep of “I’ve floated so far, it’s been so long, I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving or where I was going. I cut ties, no one is looking for me. I’m all alone.”
In a time of such hopelessness, desperation, and fear, here’s good news; God is looking for the one who wandered off.
If I understand Jesus’ parable, there is a rescue team on speedboats booking it out to the one clinging to that plywood with fresh water and trays of ripe fruit. That’s God for you. It is not in God’s will to let any of these little ones be lost.
“That’s impossible,” you say. “How could God know where I am?” The thing is, God doesn’t work with the same logic as we do. The Shepherd doesn’t need a pinged location, an SOS signal, or a plume of smoke in the air. God knows you’ve wandered, knows exactly where you are, and knows how to get there.
Let’s be honest here, who hasn’t lost their way at one point or another? I know I have. When I first came to Carolina, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be with a church at all. I was content to leave my faith in the past and begin this part of my life without God. I had no idea that I was lost. I was oblivious to my plank of wood. This is what I want, I thought, this is fine.
But then my friend Nikki told me about PCM. “Okay,” I said, “I’ll stop by.” And then, by the miracle of good friends, good food, and the relentless pursuit of The Shepherd, I ended up with a faith I had never experienced before.
God found me in the wild sea and look at me now, standing in a pulpit, of all places! My story isn’t the only one. Likely each person in this room could tell you of moments when they got lost. Whether it be figuring out family relationships, distancing oneself from the church, experiencing addiction, or just taking a second to look around at your life and wondering, how did I get here? That feels big, hard, overwhelming.
I was lost when I came here freshman year. I had gotten on that plywood willingly. I wasn’t sending up smoke signals. I was content to float aimlessly forever. But God came out, met me where I was, and invited me onto that rescue boat to dry off and rest my weary soul. God will do the same for you, and for all of the lost sheep out there.
God is not going to let you float away. The Shepherd doesn’t work with the same limitations as you and I. God is seeking you, no matter how far you’ve drifted or how many times you’ve been lost before. God has the love and the motivation to find you no matter how far in that deep expanse of sea you may be. So, even while you are clinging onto that one piece of plywood for dear life, know that God is coming for you and will not EVER abandon you.
Remember, it is not the will of the Father that any of these little ones should be lost.
Avery Hawks’ sermon
Good Morning! I’m Avery Hawks, and I have found a home in PCM since my sophomore year and have volunteered as a Youth Advisor with PYC since my junior year.
As I have read this passage previously and heard it preached, there always seemed to be an intense focus on either the lost one or the shepherd who finds them. While these are both vital roles in the parable, I have never quite resonated with either. When I read this scripture, I often see myself in the 99 who remain.
While I have definitely gone through many moments of doubt or distance from my faith, I thankfully have never felt truly lost to the point that it seemed like God had to come searching. Throughout the challenges in my life, I have often found myself sticking to the routines of going to church, youth group, small group, or PCM, as sticking to routine grants a sense of control and feels like something I “should do.”
I would imagine that some of you here this morning may also find yourself in the 99. Let’s face it, we’re all here on a Sunday morning in February. Now maybe, like my friends and family, you’re just here to support your student. Or maybe, like some of the youth here, your parents said “we’re going to church,” and you didn’t exactly have much of a choice. But for whatever reason, we are all here and maybe not entirely lost.
Even if you’re feeling distant from your faith, you still walked through the doors of UPC this morning and decided to sit in a pew and listen to mere college students attempt to share some wisdom. You are currently surrounded by a congregation of people, and clearly God hasn’t allowed you to stray too far.
This is certainly not to say that you can’t feel lost or alone among the 99. The opening line in this song I’ve been listening to recently called “Faith Is” says “I’m not a lost sheep, I just feel alone in the flock.” I have found myself repeating those words over and over as I reflect on my life. “I’m not a lost sheep, I just feel alone in the flock.”
I struggle with anxiety, I have for a few years now, and let me tell you, I’ve gotten really good at hiding it. More than once, I’ve shown up to a small group during a bad mental health week and given the classic “I’m good” when asked how I am. It’s surprisingly easy to leave without anyone ever knowing the wiser.
There was a time last year that I suffered from a panic attack in the basement of this church. I spent an agonizing few minutes hyperventilating, dry heaving, and shaking in the bathroom only to then wipe my tears, calm myself down, and go back upstairs into the PCM space for Thursday night program, again, without anyone knowing.
I tell you these things not for your sympathy, but to reiterate how easy it is to feel alone even when surrounded by people, and unfortunately, even within supportive faith spaces. This is especially true when the struggles you’re experiencing are mental and hidden from the outside world. Now that may not be your story, but there are likely many battles people in this room are dealing with right now that we know nothing about. So, yes, it can be hard to be in the 99. But trust, friends, you are not alone this morning.
From the perspective of the 99, this scripture can be difficult to read at first. In this parable, the shepherd chooses to abandon the 99 for the sake of the lost one, and is seemingly happier to find it. Now I’m a little sister so of course the words “that’s not fair!” immediately pop into my mind.
Does that mean that I need to become completely lost in order for God to find me?
Does God favor the ones that have strayed?
How does that make sense if I’m doing my best to remain in the flock and others are choosing to walk away?
I went down a rabbit hole of questions like these when thinking about this scripture, all essentially being rooted in the fear of God abandoning me in search for others. It then dawned on me, pretty clearly, that I was limiting God.
This parable is used in a human context in order to make it relatable and understandable. In the passage, God is presumed to be the shepherd. However, God is certainly not the same as a mediocre shepherd who manages to lose some sheep. And, even if there are lost ones, God does not have to abandon the others in order to search for them.
God is capable of both. God can care for both the 99, and remain present with them, while also continually searching for the lost. My understanding that you can’t be in two places at once is simply not a reality for the omnipresent God, and I know better than to try and limit God with my human perception.
This parable serves as a reminder of who God is and an example of who we should strive to be: BOTH a lover of the flock and a radical welcomer of the lost. God is love and God is a presence in each and every one of our lives, all at the very same time. May we take comfort in knowing that no matter where you find yourself in this story- as “the 1” or the “100 and 1,” you are not alone and God is searching.
Amen.
Becca Turner’s sermon
As someone who has grown up in the 21st century, I’ve had the luxury of never having to go anywhere without Google Maps at my fingertips, meaning I’ve never had to worry about being truly lost. While some in the room may not relate to that fact, it’s hard to deny that navigation is easier than ever, and as long as you have cell service, the world is your oyster.
And yet, when I read this parable, the word that jumped out to me (at least in the Luke version) was wilderness. *pause* Wilderness makes me think of one of those survival shows like Naked and Afraid or Man vs. Wild – situations I would never in my life put myself in. Thanks to the aforementioned GPS, the idea of “wilderness” puzzles me.
But in this parable, Jesus tells us about a shepherd who leaves 99 sheep in the wilderness to go find the one. Now, I don’t know about you, but if I were one of those 99 sheep, I’d be pretty upset (and anxious) at this point. It would be frustrating to be left without any clear direction, place to stay, or GPS to guide me back to civilization.
But then, maybe this is intentional on the part of the shepherd. He’s not just going to rescue the one sheep- there is another aim. He is conveniently sending a message to the ninety-nine, that there is value to the flock being left there together, not alone.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my time in college, which is natural as it’s quickly coming to an end. I started college feeling fairly sure of myself, but through the years, I realized a lot of things I thought were simple, weren’t. While I came in ready to hit the books (Mom and Dad, close your ears) I quickly learned there is a lot more to college than just academics. I’m not just learning about taking integrals and reaction mechanisms, I’m learning how to be an adult too. And then, it occurred to me that I would be learning this thing called adulthood for the rest of my life.
That left me paralyzed. Suddenly, a thousand voices are telling me what to do, and there are a thousand more examples of other people to compare myself to. Couple that with a looming existential crisis about what’s after college, my instincts told me to retreat like a turtle in its shell, comfortable in my self-contained bubble of isolation.
Then, conversations with the UPC members in my church small group recently made me realize what all of that stirring in my brain for the last year and a half or so was – it was wilderness.
And for that experience to be claimed and validated, not erased, by adults who I look up to in the church got me thinking.
I’m going to say something that might be a little farfetched. Maybe – just maybe- we’re called to be in the wilderness, together. Together, in community.
That’s what PCM has been for me- they’re my flock. And that isn’t just PCM. At its core, that’s what church should be too, whether that be UPC or the capital-C Church as Berry often calls it. Maybe we are the ninety-nine, but maybe that’s what we’re supposed to be. The shepherd believes in us, and is telling us right here “You got this”.
I’m not here to say that we don’t need the shepherd – frankly, there have been many times where the ninety-nine has gone in the totally wrong direction. We still need the shepherd, and at the end of the day, he will come back. But this story might be saying that my, your, our point of belonging isn’t just to the shepherd – it’s to each other, too. It’s to the ninety-nine (and the one that wandered away). But it’s easy to forget that. It can be easy to take the weight of the world on our own shoulders – a lot of us might especially be feeling that right now.
One thing I’ve learned though, through PCM and through my time at this church, is that we all want to make the world a better place. We all want to fulfill the kingdom of God, even if that looks a little different for everyone.
Life doesn’t have a map and definitely doesn’t have GPS either. But with the help of the flock and a lot of guidance from the shepherd, the wilderness doesn’t have to be so scary after all.
Daniel Caudill’s sermon
Parables are a gift. Rather than offering us the immediate resolutions we seek, Parables invite us to sit with our questions and join God in the transformative process of understanding.
We all search for immediate resolutions. I remember two separate occasions during my sophomore year when I turned to Berry in search of answers… immediate answers. My questions were about salvation and God’s presence, (not exactly small questions)… and they arose after I was deeply affected by witnessing children of God draw harmful boundaries around themselves and others, attempting to decide for themselves who God helps and loves; and by extension, placing limits around who they chose to help and love, sometimes even excluding themselves.
Though I haven’t received the “answers” I was initially searching for, I am grateful to now understand that God welcomes our questions and concerns. Looking to God for answers and reassurance is, in and of itself, an act of faith. Yet still, God does not just give us direct answers.
Out of the 183 questions asked of Jesus in the Gospels, He only gave a direct answer to 3. Jesus instead presented us with parables, in which he joins us in our questions and offers us something greater than answers: transformation and understanding. It just so happens that the parable we are engaging with this morning serves as a beautiful example of all of this and also happens to speak to both of my questions regarding salvation and God’s presence.
In Matthew 18, the Parable of the Lost Sheep uses a metaphor to describe God’s relentless reclamation of the lost and the forsaken, comparing God to a shepherd looking for a lost sheep. While reading this parable, one clause immediately caught my attention: “And if he finds it.” … If?
… If God finds it? If God finds the lost sheep? Under the assumption that the shepherd represents God, questioning whether the Shepherd can rescue any of us at any time challenges God’s redemptive and restorative power—a power in which I firmly believe. But these are the words of God. So why if? I sat with this question.
I think parables do more than just reveal something about God; they also reveal something about us.
Parables serve as mirrors, reflecting not only the nature of God but also the nature of our own failures. So, maybe the “if” applies to us…applies to the human possibility of failing… failing to find like God finds, failing to love like God loves. Unlike our unfailing Shepard-like God, we as humans struggle to leave the ninety-nine for the one. We struggle to seek out the lost and the forsaken, and in the case that we do find them, we often struggle to help.
I believe God invites us to tend to the flock with the idea that it is never complete. In the Kingdom of God there is always room for one more…always room to keep seeking out. We pray to God “His will shall be done on Earth, as it is in heaven.”
So where are they? Where are these lost and the forsaken sheep? If they are not amongst us, I invite us to look for them, being careful not to assume who is lost, forsaken, and or in need of help.
Let us actively search as Jesus did: through listening and asking, beginning with those who are quiet and with those who are begging for help. I would suggest that in this current moment in time, these lost sheep are not so hard to find. They are right in front of us.
We cannot grant them eternal life, That power remains with God. Yet we have the power to give them the love… a powerful love, that God has shown us we are capable of giving to each other. We can feed the hungry, We can sit with the grieving, We can house the unhoused, we can listen to the neglected, we can welcome the unwanted, we can both serve and be served.
Friends, for all of us who have lost someone, for all of us who have forsaken someone, and for all of us who may feel lost and or forsaken yourselves, let us not fear the “if”. Let us not question our or God’s capacity to love. Rest assured. Be transformed. Love freely, seek and find… do all of this with peace knowing that God loves and finds us all.