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There is a famous poem by Francis Thompson called “The Hound of Heaven”. The poem, which is striking from its very first line, which starts off by saying “I fled him”, tells the story of one who tried to flee from God, but who was pursued by the relentless love of God. The love that would go anywhere to find us. The love that would not fail and would not give up.
It is that type of love that our Savior has for each and every person, friends. And it also that love which enables our grief over sin to transform us. It is that love that makes light break into the darkness of our life. It is that love that invites us into a different way of living.
We are now in our final week of the sermon series of finding Gospel truths around us, specifically in this sermon series in the Peanuts cartoon strip found in many of our newspapers. Often the character in Peanuts that we find doing the most surprising things, is the one who has no spoken lines himself. The ones where we only get to see his actions and sometimes become privy to his thoughts - the hound, Snoopy.
In one particular cartoon strip, Charlie Brown has fallen flat on his back on the ice and he can’t get up. He starts to bemoan that he was going to be left there forever, until Snoopy comes and starts to push him home.
When I saw this particular strip I found myself thinking about the absolute love of God. The Love of God that will not leave us alone and that would do so much more for us then we can even begin to grasp in our hearts and minds.
But it also reminded me in scripture of a story in the Gospels where dogs are mentioned - a scripture that we don’t preach from very often because it sometimes makes us uncomfortable - it sometimes embarrasses us.
Jesus was traveling, when a Canaanite woman started shouting out a plea that was a prayer, “Show me mercy! My daughter is suffering! Help her!” But oddly Jesus didn’t respond. His disciples took the silence as permission to keep her away from Jesus so they demanded that she be sent away. But she continued, “Help me.” And Jesus continues the oddness of this story by giving a reply that wasn’t characteristic of him at all- telling her that he didn’t come for her people, but for the lost sheet of Israel. And then he essentially compared this pleading, grieving woman with a dog - telling her that it wouldn’t be good to take the bread intended for the children (i.e. Israel) and give it to the dogs (i.e. her).
But the woman boldly made the proclamation, “But even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall off their masters’ table.” And Jesus finally responded - that her faith had made the child well.
In this story we don’t see Jesus being the one we know him to be - the one marked by compassion. That hound of heaven pursuing with relentless love. We don’t see him as the one extending the healing hand. Or embracing the lost. At least not at first.
This particular story is so difficult because it seems to be asking exactly who did Jesus come for. What is the scope of Jesus’s ministry and message? And at first he acts as if this woman isn’t one - she isn’t one that he has come for. Isn’t one who will receive his healing. In fact, if anything he acts like she is an inconvenience - an interruption to his day. He tries to brush her aside with harsh words and she just keeps persisting in prayer. Persisting in the cries for her daughter’s healing. Until finally Jesus offers he exactly what she was asking for - as if saying that now, now the Kingdom of God is for all who desire it within their hearts.
I think I squirm at this particular passage because it makes me examine my own heart and actions. From time to time do I act like Jesus when he isn’t reaching out in compassion? Do I act like some people are beyond the reach of the Gospel message as if that would be an excuse for my own behavior? Its as if, even when we know that no one beyond the love of the hound of heaven in our heads, our hearts sometimes miss out on that message, and we start to judge who really is worthy of the love of God chasing after them. Who is really worthy of being saved.
Which brings us to this beautiful passage from Romans. Who will separate us from the love of God? No one. Nothing. We love to boldly proclaim those words, especially when we are struggling, but sometimes our attitudes and actions don’t line up with what we believe.
Paul is standing with a church who is being persecuted, as a persecuted man himself and is asking - will any of these things weighing us down have the last word over us? By no means. These things - they cannot prevail. Instead hope and faith and love will break through.
The woman in the gospel of Matthew had hope and faith - she had it even with the circumstances didn’t seem to warrant it. She had it even in the face of harsh words. She had it because she believed with all of her heart that Jesus could change the circumstances for her daughter.
The apostle Paul puts it this way - Who will separate us from Christ’s love? Will we be separated by trouble, or distress, or harassment, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? No. Because we have a hope in things not yet seen. We have hope in the one who has the ultimate strength and who changed the whole story through his death on the cross and resurrection from the grave - Jesus Christ. It is he who we put our hope in. He is the one our faith is rooted in. And he is the one we testify to, no matter what we may face.
Does that mean that life will not be hard at times? No. Does that mean that we will not face pain and heartache? No. But it means that the hound of heaven, the love of God, will be right there with us. Because nothing can separate us from the love of God.
We see the relentlessly persistent love of God in Jesus Christ - the one who pursued us even to the point of giving his own life on the cross. The cartoon I talked about earlier? The one where Charlie Brown had fallen and snoopy was helping him? There was another frame where Charlie Brown was complaining about how embarrassed he was. Even though Snoopy was going out of his way to show his love and devotion to Charlie Brown - that wasn’t how Charlie saw it. There was another strip where Snoopy is trying to lick folks, and they kept yelling at him to stop. To which he replies - “they resent me because I’m so devoted”. I think that’s how we unfortunately treat Christ from time to time, even as those who love him. We take for grant it his love of us. We try to push aside the lavishness of his grace, instead of testifying to Christ and the cross. But even then, the love of God does not give us, friends.
This love of God that pursues us, Paul describes it this way - But in all these things we win a sweeping victory through the one who loved us. I’m convinced that nothing can separate us from God’s love in Christ Jesus our Lord: not death or life, not angels or rulers, not present things or future things, not powers or height or depth, or any other thing that is created. That is how much God loves you Church! Now are you willing to go and share that powerful love with others?
A few months ago my family and I went to see Jesus at Sight and Sound. I talked about one song last week, but there was another that deeply touched my soul. After Jesus healed the man who was possessed by demons, which he put into a heard of pigs who fell into the sea, the disciples each start to sing about how Christ calling them by name changed them - healed them, freed them. And there was a striking line, where one of the disciples essentially says that when we become fearful to go it is because we have forgotten how we have been changed by that call. Because if we would remember we would want to share that with the whole world.
Friends, if you have been transformed by the love of God, then you want to share it. Not just when it is safe. Not just when it is comfortable. But to everyone who has ears to hear. Now that doesn’t mean our witness will always be received or understood, but it does mean that we along with Paul, are glorying the love of the one who will not let us go. The hound of heaven. Amen.
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