Grammatical Caveat: Because sermons are meant to be preached and are therefore prepared with the emphasis on verbal presentation (i.e., are written for the ear), the written accounts occasionally deviate from proper and generally accepted principles of grammar and punctuation. Most often, these deviations are not mistakes per se, but are indicative of an attempt to aid the listener in the delivery of the sermon.
Luke
15.1-10
First
Presbyterian Church
Sometimes,
it feels that we have all but lost hope in our shared humanity. Simply by turning the TV, the floating heads
will only affirm this sense of lost hope as we watch report after report of how
the violence of the world is
spreading further and further to the east and to the west. History supports this lack of hope especially
on a day like today when on this date 50 years ago, at a Baptist Church in
Birmingham, Alabama, 4 little girls lost their lives to a racially charged act
by a person who had apparently lost their imagination. Indeed, hope for peace on earth at times
seems like a lost cause.
Then
there are the more personal aspects of being lost. Like the time I managed to slip away from my
parents in the souvenir shop at the Royal Gorge in Colorado. To this day, my mom reminds me of how scared
she was when she turned and I wasn’t next to her as we toured what is one giant
hole in the ground. I guess I can see
why she go a little nervous.
To
be lost is a singularly terrifying experience.
To lose anything produces a large amount of adrenaline that sends the
blood pumping. We have all experienced
loss, in one way or another. In every
circumstance, from keys and cell phones and that cooler that is still down in
the Christian Ed Building from the Bar-B-Q, to love and life, being confronted
with loss forces us to be mindful of our weaknesses, and often exposes our
vulnerabilities. There is nothing worse
than when we lose something that means the world to us, something special, of
great significance. Boy or girl, young
or old, rich or poor, in whatever state we find ourselves, all of us are
intimately familiar with the experience of loss.
Perhaps
this is the reason why Jesus tells these two stories about a lost sheep and a
lost coin. After all within his
historical context and social location, a person who was “lost” was one who did
not and should not
re-enter society with those who considered themselves “found.” Jesus uses the
experience of loss to create a new model for living; an integrated community of
people who could rejoice when those who were “lost” manage to find their way
back to their community.
Within
this story, we find Jesus surrounded by a crowd full of both “lost” souls (like
sinners and tax collectors)
and Jesus’ uncorrupted critics or those who considered themselves found, or the
ones who maintain the rules. And it is here, on his way to
Jerusalem, as the unruly crowd starts
to press in, and as the sinners and tax collectors begin to gather among the
disciples and move closer to Jesus, the indictments are audible: “Can you
believe it? This man eats with sinners
and tax collectors. Surely, he has lost
his mind.”
It
was this accusation that stops Jesus in his tracks and leads to the first
parable about a lost sheep. Unlike a similar story in Matthew,
where a sheep is simply astray, here in Luke, the sheep is lost, as are the
sinners who come to hear Jesus, and this lost sheep is sought until it is
found. The lost sheep merely frames the introductory question of the larger
parable: how do we treat things
that are lost? The answer is self-evident: A valuable sheep that is lost merits one’s
full attention until it is found. Buried
in this explanation is the implied assumption that during the search for the
one, the other sheep are left to their own devices and ‘in the
wilderness.‘ For those who could afford
the 100 sheep, it would have been a risky and unwise business move to go find just one lost sheep. In light of these realities, it is difficult
to imagine that those in the audience would have readily accepted the risk as
worth taking to recover even a valuable animal.
But
what Luke does next and what is so important for us to hear, characterizes not
only the lost sheep, but also, the
one who is experiencing the loss. Luke elaborates in considerable
detail on the joy that follows when one who is lost may become found; rather
than being angry or upset, the owner of the sheep gathers it up, places it
gently upon his or her shoulders, and returns it to the fold. Upon this return, the owner summons the
community to celebrate this find. This
richly textured description of celebration leaves us to conclude one of two
things: either the shepherd is foolish
or the owner loves the lost sheep and will risk everything, including his/her
own life, until the sheep is found.[1] While it might be acceptable to celebrate the
return of one who was lost, Jesus puts a significant damper on the evening by
taking this story a step further. He explains that there is more joy in this
one’s return than is found in the 99 that did what they were supposed to do,
and always remained “found.”
Remaining
controversial by changing gears and changing genders, Jesus tells one more
parable to drive home his last point.
Instead of a lost sheep, he narrates a woman’s lost coin. When this woman realizes she has lost one of
her ten coins, she lights an oil lamp—because her house is very dark and the
coin is quite small. When she still cannot spot it, she begins to frantically
sweep the floor until she hears the coin ring against the floor. While subjectively different, in this story,
like the other about the sheep, the woman experiencing loss doesn’t give up.[2] Desperately and furiously, she searches until
it is found. Jesus again pushes this
story to its limits, asserting that the joy of finding is so abundant that it
cannot be contained. One person, alone cannot adequately celebrate: there must
be a party to which others are invited.
In this same thematic vein, Jesus invites even his critics to join him
and all of heaven in celebration of finding the lost.
This
is where we are left: with the joy of God after finding the one that has been
lost. Jesus tells these stories to
remind us that finding and restoring that which is lost gives pleasure to God
as well as all who are about God’s business. These parables invite us not only to celebrate
in the finding of the lost, but to remember to allow ourselves to be found by
God as well. These are stories about
God’s desire to be in community with us, and they remind us that no matter what
we have done or where we have been, God is seeking us out, searching to find
us. Perhaps this is the contemplative
aspect of these stories: the invitation to bask in the love of God who is
shepherd, and who risks it all to find us.
This love, which is not cautious nor risk averse, is the scandal of the
gospel, and the scandal of the incarnation.
Albeit
comforting to know we are never beyond God’s finding, there is also a call to action
in this text. We must recognize God’s
relentless pursuit of us, and think about what that means for our
ministries. If God is not quick to give
up on us, why then are we so quick to give up on others, particularly those who
we consider uncomfortable or “bad company?”
What makes today’s gospel lesson so uncomfortable and outlandish for me
is that Jesus indicates that no sheep, even those deemed unfit, should be
permanently branded by and lost even to themselves. That only ensures they
remain lost. Lost coins and lost sheep cannot restore themselves: Jesus tells
us, through these stories, that in the same way, neither can lost people. Thus,
when people are lost, regardless of when and how and why they lost their way,
it’s up to the community, not simply to the lost individuals, to go and help
them find their way home.
We
all know the searing pain of loss, but we also know the joy that emerges when
we find whatever it is we are looking for. Even more, we all know the sorrow that comes when
what has been lost cannot be found as individuals and as a community. With the knowledge that we are beyond being
lost by God, our calling is to ensure that those who feel “lost” among us are
never left alone to believe that this is their permanent state. As God finds
and celebrates us when we are lost, we also should do this for those who
wander, feeling lost among us. We are to
be the hope for what seems like a lost cause.
Friends in
Christ, rejoice, there is joy in being found.
Let us go forth and share this joy with others. May it be so.
Amen.
[1] Luke Timothy
Johnson. “The Gospel of Luke.” In the Sacra Pagina Vol. 3. Ed. Daniel J. Harrington. (Collegeville: The Liturgical Press, 1991), 241.
[2] Fred B. Craddock. “Luke.”
In Interpretation: A Bible Commentary
for Teaching and Preaching. Ed. James Luther, (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1990), 185.
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