Lost and Found

Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him.   And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”

So he told them this parable:   “Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it?   When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices.  And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’   Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.

“Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it?   When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’   Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”

This is up there with the most familiar parables.  If your recollection is the same as mine, it is a nice parable.  A parable of a good shepherd, a cute lamb that has gone astray, and shepherd that brings this lamb back into the fold.  The flock is whole, and there is a celebration.  I remember this parable with the picture of white/Euro Jesus carrying the sheep over his shoulders.  And we all say, ahhhh, cute….  right.  Right? 

The tax collectors and sinners were coming near…and the Pharisees and scribes were grumbling.  There was a murmur…a whisper—insider to insider—that said “Can you believe this fella—this one who welcomes sinners and eats with them.” 

It’s not a cute little sheep/shepherd story.  No, it’s a story with an edge.  Okay, it’s more than an edge.  Jesus shares a story to provoke the insider-to the grumbler that is saying, what are they doing here—what is he doing with them. 

There is a Jewish story that speaks to the good fortunes of a hardworking farmer.  As this farmer was out working hard, the Lord appeared and granted him three wishes.  But the wishes were conditional.  For each wish the Lord granted the farmer, the same wish would be given double to the farmer’s neighbor.  He could hardly believe his good fortune as he wished for 100 cattle.  Immediately, 100 head of cattle appeared and he was overjoyed.  But the joy was short-lived when he saw his neighbor received 200 head.  So he wished again, and this time for 100 acres of land, and again was filled with joy until he saw that his neighbor had received 200 acres.  Rather than joining in celebration for the Lord’s goodness, he was filled with jealousy and a sense that he was slighted because his neighbor had received more.  With contempt, he offered his third wish—that God would strike him blind in one eye.  God wept.[1]

“Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it?   When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices.   And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’ 

Full Stop—he then shares with the crowd:

Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance. 

Wait a minute, sheep don’t repent?  Seriously?  There is one—a sinner or tax collector, and ninety-nine-righteous…  And there is a party.  Invite the neighbors and friends, but where are the ninety-nine? 

Grumbling—this fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them. 

So there is this woman who has ten silver coins, and after losing one turns her house upside down looking for it.  After finding it—she throws a party.  She welcomes friend and neighbor, and they celebrate. 

This story of losing and finding—it’s less about our lostness, and more about the finder.  It is less about sheep, and more about the shepherd.  It is less about the coin, and more about the woman—and think how amazing that is!  God is like a woman—(and has to be, because Lord knows that coin would be right in front of my face and I wouldn’t see it.)  So this God, our God is so much bigger, so much better, and one that seeks…seeks—us.

This story is about God—a shepherd, a woman, and one who continues to leave ninety-nine to seek one.  This God who says the community is missing something until the lost are found, and when found—it is a celebration. 

In light of a God that is this great, it is too about us.  It is about us because community matters—community where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.  Yet wholeness requires completeness…each and every one of us…and more.  For lost or found, we belong to God—from the beginning.  We are God’s when we are 100, and we are God’s when we stray–perhaps the reason God would go so far to rescue one, to reclaim what belonged in the first place.  And this lost is not only one out there—in the wilderness, but we all struggle at times of our lives with lostness, with struggles. 

Lost, God searches, enters the wilderness as a shepherd, turns the house upside down.  Finding—God throws a party. 

There was a chaplain who accompanied Benjamin Franklin and an all volunteer militia back in 1756.  Living in the threats of the frontier, Franklin helped lead the recruits to build a fort.  Once safe inside the walls that protected from the threats of the outside, the chaplain (referred to by Franklin as “a zealous Presbyterian”) complained to Franklin that very few were attending worship.  Franklin, an astute problem solver, assigned the young chaplain the charge of handing out the daily ration of rum.  Attendance increased—for sure.  More importantly, Franklin reflects that “never were prayers more generally and more punctually attended.” 

May we find ourselves at Spirit of life, a place that not only welcomes the lost, but a place that will turn our community upside down searching for—and a place that leaves its comfort zone to seek out one.  Instead of a house of saints, a crystal cathedral, may we view ourselves more as the 80’s sitcom (Kate begins playing theme song) Cheers.  A place that welcomes, a place that calls you out by name: Norm!

“Making your way in the world today takes everything you’ve got.

Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot.
Wouldn’t you like to get away?
Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name,
and they’re always glad you came.
You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same
You wanna be where everybody knows your name.
You wanna go where people know, people are all the same,
You wanna go where everybody knows your name.”

 

Seeking, God calls us by name.  But to call each one of us by name, let us enter back into this cute little story.  A story of a hundred lambs.  Ninety-nine-righteous, and one that wanders into the wilderness.  May we see this story in the larger story.  Of the one lamb, who in the wilderness enters the thicket.  This one, perfect lamb, who is not rescued, but dies.  This one lamb, who enters the wilderness for the purpose of restoring the ninety-nine who remained in the wilderness.  This lamb is our good shepherd who died and lives so that in our lostness, our straying, that we may live in fullness—together. 

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.