Lost and Found

Reflections based on Luke 15:1-10, click here to read

There once was a pastor who was staying at the same hotel as the great comedian Groucho Marx.  As grace would have it, the two bumped into each other in the lobby.  The minister rushed, raced over took Marx by the hand and said, “Thank you Mr. Marx for bring such laughter and joy into our world.”  To which Groucho, with the twinkle in his eye, did not miss a beat, replied, “And thank you, Padre, for taking so much of it out of the world.”  Often what makes something funny is that we uncover a truth that might have been hidden heretofore.  And certainly, as people of faith, we can be a bit too serious and somber, especially during the season of Lent.  I think we need moments when we don’t splash in the shallow end of life, when we stop sliding down the surface, when we can dive deeply into what it means to be crafted, created in the image of God.  What does it mean to suggest, say that the holiest week in the Christian year, about a month from now, involves a cross, a public form of execution because that might speak to our own struggles and suffering?  What does it mean to suggest, say that Jesus was deserted, denied, betrayed by his own friends, because that might have something suggest and say to each of us?  Yet, I also think there are moments of incredible and indescribable joy that are happening right here and now, even in the midst of Lent.  The kind of joy that is described in the scripture reading above.

The passage starts off with some of the Pharisees and scribes who are grumbling and gripping because of the company Jesus is keeping.  That set up is important.  Pharisees and scribes are the good, religious, faithful people.  That might give us pause to wonder, what we grumbling and gripping about as people of faith today?  Besides traffic and how long the wait is at a restaurant?  Lent is a time to listen deeply, honestly, authentically.  Within your experience of the church, where do you find yourself hanging out with the Pharisees raising red flags about the state of the faith today?  That is a good question to ponder prayerfully in these forty days.  Jesus is not doing what they wanted him to do, he will not be confined and defined by the ruts and routines of religious life.  Besides holding a mirror up to our own religious propensity to grumble, Luke is also pointed to the past, the word for the Pharisees and scribes in the back pew complaining is "murmuring".  And it is the same word that described what the Israelites did to Moses in the wilderness when they wanted bread and water after being liberated from Egypt.  Even over centuries of change there are certain consistency.  Jesus doesn’t deflect or defend or deny his love of a good meal no matter who is at the table.  Instead, he tells two stories.

First, we have a shepherd with one hundred sheep.  This is an echo of the Christmas narrative in Luke where shepherds show up to witness the birth of the One born in a barn, laid away in a manger.  And it is good to remember that there is a tension within scripture.  Even though God is often referred to as a shepherd in the psalms and Jeremiah and Ezekiel, as a profession it was not one your mother encouraged you to pursue.  No one dreamed of being a shepherd, they were seen as shiftless, trespassing, and thieves.  But this shepherd has an even greater problem.  A sheep has gone astray.  So, leaving the other 99, we assume with the other shepherds, because otherwise it would be like leaving 99 Lexus’ with the keys in the ignition and motor running in the parking lot of Lido Beach.  He goes in search of one.  One out of ninety-nine.  In the economy of God, one matters.  And the amazing part of sheep despite having a reputation for not being the brightest bulb in the barnyard, they know the shepherds voice and the shepherd knows the sheep’s soft sounds.  When, where right now are you out searching?  Where are you calling out, crying out and listening deeply?  What are you searching for that maybe feels like looking for one sheep out of ninety-nine?  Turn that around, how is God searching for you right here and now?  Are we listening?  Are we calling out, because God knows the sound of our voice?

The second story is about a woman who has lost a coin, scholars believe would have been worth about one day's wages.  In Jesus’ day most people lived in small structures, imagine even smaller than the tiny house movement today.  They had dirt floors, small doors, and no windows.  Sounds delightful.  She has lost a coin.  So she lights a lamp, because there is no other way to see.  She spends one resource, oil for the lamp, to find another resource a coin she has lost.  Again, in God’s economy the balance sheet doesn’t always add up.  In God’s economy, it might look foolish to pour treasure and time searching.  But God as the seeker and sweeper, searches diligently for us.  What ties the two stories together is the plot.  Something is lost, it is searched out, when it is found, there is a great celebration.  I want to offer that to you, as a narrative for faith this Lenten season.  What seems lost right now in your life?  What are you searching for?  How are you searching?  Who is helping?  To be sure, there are somethings that are lost that cannot be retrieved: relationships, past, and having just celebrated a birthday last week I am keenly aware that time can be lost too.  While we grieve those losses, there are others where we can learn from the shepherd and woman.  Losses where we can offer our time and talents; our efforts and energies; pouring our life into seeking.  For me, this Lent, I am searching for space to breathe and be; to rest; to let the renewing strength of God that cannot be manufactured or micromanaged wash over me like the waves lapping at our toes down at the beach.  I am searching for a reminder that the language of Advent: hope, peace, love, and joy can also help light the way through Lent, especially that last one: joy.  We are plotting and planning to celebrate resurrection, new life found in the midst of the most unlikely place: a tomb!  And this is not some passive search, it is the shepherd and woman’s active, engaged search for that which is the greatest treasure we know: a life giving and changing relationship with God.  May each of us find that in these Lenten days.  Amen.