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Emmy Kegler is the best kind of weird.
She is a Lutheran pastor with an impressive command of Scripture and a passion for innovative worship; she considers doodling one of her spiritual gifts. Her boardgame nights are legendary, and her one-of-a-kind cackle will set even the staunchest wallflower at ease. Emmy recently led a sermon series on the animals of the Bible, drawing insights from everything from the chicken of Matthew 23 to the beast of Revelation 13. She created a database for cross-referencing her friends Enneagram numbers, zodiac signs, Hogwarts houses, and Myers-Briggs types, just for fun, and made a protest shirt to wear with her clergy collar that reads, My Boss Sent Me. This book includes 111 endnotes and six pages of suggested further reading... and its a memoir.
But what I love most about Emmy is her fierce, unrelenting love for her fellow oddballsfor religious burnouts and political misfits, for queer Christians seeking refuge and healing from toxic faith environments, for doubters and dreamers and wilderness wanderers, for recovering know-it-alls like me. Hers is a church that colors outside the lines, a church full of what she calls the impossibilities of God. And indeed, as her own impossible journey unfolds in the pages before you, it becomes clear that Emmy understands better than most what the disciple Philip knew when he baptized the Ethiopian eunuch on the wilderness road to Gaza that day: that the Spirit moves in the margins, that ours is a God who meets us in the stories of impossibility, of water in the desert and food in time of drought.
This book is water in the desert, a table of fresh food in the wilderness. It nourished me in ways I didnt expect, inviting this lifelong church nerd to see stories from the Bible in fresh, startling ways. With tenderness and skill, Emmy weaves the strands of her own story into the grander story of Gods relentless love for the world, but in a way that is never preachy and never self-satisfied. Ive been grateful for Emmys work for many years now, but as I turned the pages of this beautiful memoir, I found myself grateful too for the ragamuffin souls who helped her along the waythe mother who loved her unconditionally, the liberation theologians who gave language to her experience, the eccentric bearded pastor who plopped a plate of communion bread in her hands and said, There you go. Youve been trained.
To think of all the impossible stories that led to this one being told!
Of course, the impossible story at the center of this book is the story of the lost coin, but Ill let Emmy tell that one; she does it more justice. Im just here to encourage you to read on, to remind you to savor, to urge you to slow down and pay attention because every last one of these hard-won words is for you
you, who are immeasurably beloved by God,
you, who know a thing or two about coloring outside the lines,
you, who, with the help of the great communion of saints, can embrace all the best kinds of weird,
you, who will always and ever be found.
Rachel Held Evans
author of Searching for Sunday and Inspired
I want to tell you, beloved, about the lost chapter of the Bible.
Youve probably already found it. Its one of those secrets hiding in plain sight. You might know the feelinglike everyone who meets you sees you, but doesnt really see you. You feel like youre giving every possible signal other than tattooing it on your forehead, but still others dont recognize you for who you are.
I want to tell you about the lost chapter of the Bible, the one with the story of a shepherd who leaves ninety-nine sheep behind and goes out looking for the one that is lost. The one with the story of a woman who sweeps her entire house looking for the one coin that is lost. The one with the lost son who wanders from home and a lost son who stays and stews in his resentment and a lost father struggling to reunite his broken family.
This isnt a lost story. This is our story.
We know this story, dont we? Especially that prodigal son. Those of us who have walked away from abusive homes and abusive churches, who have turned our backs on the places that turned their backs on uswe know this story, because in every casting call we get the role of the younger son. The greedy one, the squanderer of wealth, the one who walks away from everything good to live among swine just so he could have his way. Weve been told thats us. My queer family knows this story all too well. When we name our sexuality or our gender identity, or when our friends and family claim us as beloved, we hear this story. Weve been told, so many of us in so many ways, that were just like that son, turning our back on everything good because we want to have the world our way.
But Ive come to wonder if the other two stories in this lost chapter of the Bible can tell us a little more about our own lost selves.
If the analogy holds, if were the lost second son, were also the lost sheep. We went wandering. We put the whole herd in danger, you know, because we followed our stubborn sheep nose and the shepherd had to leave the ninety-nine and chase us down.
You know whats funny about sheep? They wander. Thats what they do; its in their nature. Most herd animals do it. Thats why, when humans domesticated cattle and goats and yes, sheep, there arose a new role: the shepherd, the rancher, the cowboy. Someones got to keep the herd together, because otherwise theyll go wandering off. It isnt some rebellion against intrinsic sheep-ness; its not malicious or sinful or particularly stubborn, really. Sheep wander. Its what they do.
And sheep wander for good reasons. They wander because theyre hungry. The shepherd didnt bring them to a fertile enough field, and theyre fighting with each other for good grass or sweet water. And these are desert sheep, mind you, wandering through the Middle Eastern wildernessthere isnt always a lot of green to go around. If the shepherd isnt careful, the sheep end up starving.
Sometimes the sheep are sick, or injured, or old. Theyre exhausted from the heat or tired from the walk. They drop to the back of the herd, lie down somewhere to rest. If the shepherd isnt watching for those on the edges, the group might move on without them. Youve got to have a good shepherd, someone whos watching for the sheep that are hurting.