Prepare (This section is preparation for the leader, not content meant for the whole group.)

The heart of this passage is the pair of parables about the lost sheep and the lost coin. Yet the two sentences before them provide essential context for understanding the stories Jesus tells. Crowds continue to follow him, but this particular group receives special mention: tax collectors and sinners. It’s worth unpacking the baggage these titles carry. Tax collectors were seen as corrupt, wealthy collaborators with Rome, collecting what Rome demanded—and often a little extra for themselves. “Sinners” is a broader term used throughout the New Testament to describe anyone with a reputation for wrongdoing and an unwillingness to repent. In short, these are society’s outcasts. And it is precisely these people with whom Jesus chooses to share his meals.

This is not new in Luke. A major theme of the gospel is table fellowship. Meals are never just meals; they are moments of revelation, teaching, reversal, and inclusion. Luke uses shared meals to reveal whom Jesus welcomes, challenges, and brings into God’s kingdom. This is why Jesus is accused of being “a glutton and a drunkard” (Luke 7:34): he eats with anyone and everyone.

What follows from the religious leaders’ complaint—that Jesus welcomes and eats with those he shouldn’t—is Jesus’ explanation of why he does so, told in story form. The parables highlight the extravagant welcome and relentless pursuit of outsiders. In an agrarian society like Jesus’, no shepherd would realistically leave ninety-nine sheep to search for one; the cost of losing more would be too great. Likewise, the woman’s persistence is underscored by the painstaking tasks she undertakes to ensure her coin is found. In both cases, the conclusion is the same: celebration. Each throws a party that seems excessive. And yet that is exactly what God’s welcome, love, and grace in Jesus are—extravagant, relentless, excessive.

Opening Exercise

Watch this news segment on a special lunch served in Denver, CO. After watching the video, participants get in pairs or groups of three and talk about a meal they shared that was meaningful to them and why?

Read Aloud

Luke 15:1-10

Longer Tables for the Lost and Found

Mile Long Table in Denver – Credit: Longer Tables

In late July over 3,400 people ate at the longest table in the United States. People from all over joined together for a meal. The event was put on by Longer Tables, a nonprofit whose mission is to “bring people from all walks of life together to create connection and belonging through shared meals.” Tom Jones, the founder, calls the table “the most powerful connector.”

He’s right. Longer Tables wants all people—no matter their story, background, or identity—to connect, be seen, and feel like they belong. In a time of deep polarization, rising loneliness, and widespread isolation, this work is vital.

But here’s the thing: as beautiful as that vision is, it’s not new. The church has known and practiced this for nearly two millennia. And perhaps no one knew it better than Jesus.

Luke tells us again and again that Jesus shared meals with people. So much so that he earned a reputation for being a glutton (Luke 7:34). And it wasn’t just that he ate with his closest friends—he ate with all sorts of people. Poor fishermen. Women. Massive crowds. High-ranking religious leaders. And yes, tax collectors and sinners; the ones society saw as corrupt, immoral, or beyond redemption. These were the very people Jesus welcomed at his table. And that made the religious leaders grumble.

That’s where our passage in Luke 15 picks up. When accused of eating with the wrong people, Jesus explains why through two parables: the lost sheep and the lost coin. Both stories showcase God’s relentless pursuit of those who have wandered off or been pushed aside. No shepherd would risk ninety-nine sheep for one. No woman would throw a party over finding a single coin. Yet Jesus insists this is exactly how God works—going to ridiculous lengths to seek, welcome, and celebrate the lost.

In that light, Jesus is doing something even more radical than Longer Tables. He made sure that the very people no one wanted at the table—the outcasts, the ones with the wrong reputation, the ones everyone else avoided—were not only invited but present. And when they were found and welcomed, heaven itself rejoiced.

That raises a hard but important question for us: Who is sitting at your table? Who isn’t? Who should be? With school in full swing, this is the perfect time to pause and ask: Who have we left out? Who needs to hear, through us, a word of welcome and belonging?

Maybe it’s the person with whom you disagree politically. Perhaps it’s someone who has hurt you or carries a reputation you’d rather avoid. Or it’s the neighbor who feels forgotten. Whoever comes to mind, remember: these are the very people Jesus sought out and welcomed.

That welcome is still the model for us today. It’s the kind of connection the world is starving for. And when it happens—when the lost are found, when the table is extended, when grace is shared—it’s always worth celebrating.

Reflection Questions

• What is the mission of Longer Tables, and how does it connect people?
• How does Jesus’ practice of table fellowship go even further than what Longer Tables is doing?
• Of all the characters in the passage (Jesus, tax collector, sinner, Pharisee, lost sheep, etc), with whom do you identify in the passage and why?
• If Jesus welcomed those society avoided, who are we be called to welcome to our own tables today?

Closing Activity

Try this guided meditation with your group:

Find a quiet, comfortable space and close your eyes. Imagine a table in front of you—it could be your kitchen table, where you eat lunch at school, or even the longest table you can dream of.

1. First, picture the people who normally sit at your table. Family, friends, the ones you know and love. Give thanks for them. (Pause)
   
2. Now, imagine the people Jesus often welcomed—the ones who were overlooked, avoided, or judged. Who comes to mind for you? Hold them in prayer. (Pause)
   
3. Finally, picture Jesus at the table. See him smiling, passing food, making space, and reminding you that there is room for everyone—including you. (Pause)

Take a deep breath in. Hold it briefly. Breathe all the way out. Open your eyes.

Final Prayer

Jesus, help us to make room at our tables the way you make room at yours. Amen

Bio

Cogan Blackmon is a pastor who believes the church is at its best when it listens closely to the stories people carry. As Associate Pastor of Cross of Grace Lutheran Church in New Palestine, Indiana, and editor of Faith Lens, he explores the intersection of scripture, culture, and everyday life, sharing reflections that help readers see faith in fresh ways. Outside of ministry and editing, you’ll likely find him with a cup of coffee in hand, exploring local food and beverage venues with his family, or listening to folk and Americana music.

Prepare (This section is preparation for the leader, not content meant for the whole group.)
Luke 14:25–33 gives us two of Jesus’ hardest sayings: that anyone who doesn’t “hate” their family and life itself cannot follow him, and that disciples must give up all their possessions. These statements sound extreme, but some context helps.

At the start of the passage a large crowd is following Jesus. Crowds have been gathering around him since the very beginning of his ministry in Luke. Each time, Jesus makes it clear that following him is costly. Here, he uses deliberately shocking, hyperbolic language to force the crowd to consider what discipleship really requires.

In the first-century Jewish world, family responsibilities were foundational. To abandon or even appear to neglect them could bring severe social, physical, and material consequences. So when Jesus says his followers must “hate” even their own families, it would have landed even more harshly then than it does for us now. The word “hate” here doesn’t mean hostility but comparison—it points to the idea of loving something less than something else. Jesus is saying that following him requires placing him above everything else, even the most important commitments and possessions in life. That’s why, after offering two examples that show the importance of counting the cost—one about building a tower and one about a king preparing for war—Jesus concludes by saying that anyone who wants to follow him must be willing to give up all their possessions.

This passage reminds us that discipleship is not casual. It demands reordering our loves, loosening our grip on what we hold most dear, and choosing Christ first.

Opening Exercise

• In a pair or a group of three, tell of the best volunteer experience you have ever had and what made it the best?

Read Aloud

• Luke 14:25-33

Discipleship, Time, and Loving Less
Today we celebrate God’s Work, Our Hands Sunday across the ELCA. Since it began in September 2013, this day has invited congregations to show the love and concern God’s people have for one another. Through acts of service—big and small—we explore one of our most basic Lutheran convictions: by God’s grace we are free to love and serve our neighbor. We don’t have to do that. We want to do it in response to the love and grace God has first given us.

But there’s a challenge to loving and serving—and it’s one many of us face every day: time. Many studies indicate that one of, if not the, biggest barrier to serving or volunteering is lack of time. And with little to no concrete data, but with a fair amount of certainty, I’d bet that lack of time is what keeps many teens from becoming more involved at church or in the youth group. Sports, school, band, dance, a job, and any number of other things are competing priorities that make it hard to serve or get engaged. It’s not that the things we do aren’t good or worthwhile. But, sometimes, what we love most prevents us from responding to the love God calls us to share.

This tension echoes Luke 14:25–33, where Jesus challenges the crowd with the cost of discipleship. He uses shocking language, saying that anyone who doesn’t “hate” their family and possessions cannot follow him. Yet, I don’t think “hate” here means hostility or contempt. Rather, I read it as loving something less than something else. Jesus is asking the crowd to consider: what do we love most? And are we willing to place him above all—even our family, our possessions, our time?

Like the crowds following Jesus, many of us want to do good in the world—but feel we don’t have the time. And yet, hidden in Jesus’ hard words is an invitation: an invitation to reorder our loves and to follow him—not alone, but alongside others. With the school year starting and schedules filling up, this is a moment to pause and reflect: what in our lives is getting more of our love and attention than God? How might we choose differently so that we can live into the service God calls us to? 

God’s Work, Our Hands Sunday is a small reminder that discipleship is costly—but it is also a gift. The gift is not just the work we do for others, but the chance to follow Jesus together, letting our lives bear witness to God’s love in a world that desperately needs it.

Reflection Questions

• What sticks out to you most in the scripture passage we read and why?
• When Jesus says we have to “give up all our possessions,” what do you think he means? Do you hear that as literal, or pointing to something else?
• Why do you think Jesus talks about following him in such extreme ways? What does that show us about what discipleship means?
• If you were to love other things less and take discipleship more seriously in the year ahead, how would your life be different, if at all?

Closing Activity

• Have each person list how they spend their time during the week. Suggest checking their phone’s screen time for a reality check. Then ask: Is this how you want to spend your life? What’s missing? What would you take off?
• Come up with a list of service events you and your young people can do throughout the year.

Prayer
Gracious God, our hearts are pulled in many directions. We give our time and energy to so many things—some good, some not so good. And yet you call us first to follow you. Teach us to love what you love, and to serve as you serve, so that our lives show your grace at work in us. Forgive us when we chase after lesser things, and keep drawing us back by your mercy. Strengthen us to count the cost of discipleship, and to discover in it the joy of life with you. Amen.

Bio
Cogan Blackmon is a pastor who believes the church is at its best when it listens closely to the stories people carry. As Associate Pastor of Cross of Grace Lutheran Church in New Palestine, Indiana, and editor of Faith Lens, he explores the intersection of scripture, culture, and everyday life, sharing reflections that help readers see faith in fresh ways. Outside of ministry and editing, you’ll likely find him with a cup of coffee in hand, exploring local food and beverage venues with his family, or listening to folk and Americana music.