Opening Prayer
God of mercy and mystery,
When we lose ourselves, You do not lose sight of us.
When we resist the truth, You speak it in love.
When we are far from home, You run to welcome us back.
Soften our hearts, quiet our fears,
and shape us into those who seek the lost as You have sought us.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Prayer Before Scripture
Spirit of the Living God,
Fall afresh on us as we hear Your Word.
Break open what is hardened,
light up what is hidden,
and stir up the joy of salvation within us.
May these ancient words become the voice that calls us home.
Amen.
Reflection: “Still Worth Finding: A Gospel of Relentless Mercy”
The Scriptures this week draw us into a confrontation—between our foolishness and God’s mercy, between our wayward hearts and the One who never stops seeking us.
Jeremiah 4 opens with imagery of a hot, searing wind—a whirlwind of judgment. The prophet looks out on a devastated land, and God grieves: “My people are foolish, they do not know me.” They are skilled at evil but ignorant of goodness. The land mourns. The skies grow dark. It is a picture of what happens when the covenant is forgotten—when the people, meant to reflect God's justice, instead corrupt it.
Psalm 14 echoes this lament. “Fools say in their hearts, ‘There is no God.’” It’s not intellectual atheism the psalm critiques, but practical godlessness—living as if God doesn’t matter. The psalmist doesn’t exempt anyone: “There is no one who does good.” Yet even here, there is a plea: “O that deliverance for Israel would come from Zion!” There is hope that God will act, even when human beings do not.
Exodus 32 reveals this very hope. While Moses is still on the mountain, the people make a golden calf. It is one of the most egregious acts of betrayal in Israel’s history. God burns with anger. But Moses pleads for mercy—not because the people deserve it, but because of who God is. And stunningly, “the Lord changed his mind.” This is a portrait of a God who listens, who relents, who responds to intercession.
Psalm 51, traditionally attributed to David after his own moral failure, shows us the appropriate human posture in light of sin: not denial, but confession. “Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love.” The psalm names sin honestly—not as a mistake, but as a rupture—and yet dares to hope that God can create a clean heart.
That daring hope is what animates 1 Timothy 1, where Paul gives thanks not for his résumé, but for his rescue. “I was a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence. But I received mercy.” He doesn’t downplay his sin—he magnifies God’s grace. “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the foremost.” Paul becomes a living witness that nobody is too far gone. If God can redeem him, God can redeem anyone.
And then Jesus tells two stories in Luke 15—stories of things lost and things found.
A shepherd leaves the ninety-nine to find the one sheep.
A woman sweeps her house until she finds one lost coin.
These are not just sentimental parables. They are revelations of God’s character. God is not satisfied with percentages. God searches for every single soul. What the world discards, God seeks. What religion sometimes ignores, grace remembers.
And when the lost are found, heaven throws a party.
This is the heart of the Gospel:
We are often lost in ways we don’t admit—through rebellion, foolishness, pride, or fear.
But we are never abandoned.
God searches. God forgives. God restores.
Not because we are good—but because God is good.
A Thread That Unites Them All
These readings take us on a journey:
From the foolishness of Jeremiah to the plea of Psalm 51
From the idolatry of Exodus to the gratitude of Paul
From the confession of sin to the celebration of redemption
They all bear witness to this truth:
Even when we are lost, we are still worth finding.
Not because of who we are,
but because of who God is.
Benediction
Go now in the mercy of the Shepherd who seeks you,
in the love of the Parent who runs to embrace you,
and in the joy of the Spirit who sings when the lost are found.
May your life be shaped by mercy,
your heart moved by compassion,
and your hands open to all who still wander in the dark.
You are found. Go in peace.
Amen.