Don Friesen
Some people tend to lose things. I don't really understand it. I misplace things on occasion, and some of my things go missing, sometimes for a long time, but I rarely lose them. I often leave my house keys in the front door, but that's so I can find them easily in the morning. And in the event of a house invasion, it has the added benefit of making forced entry unnecessary.
Those of you who are habitual losers of things may want to check out LostAndFound.com, a web site where you can post descriptions of the things you've lost, and search for them in the list of things that have been found – everything from earrings to horses to automobiles! I didn't see any husbands listed there, but I just read the story of the Alberta man who suffers from amnesiac fugues and who has gone missing more than once. His wife took him to a tattoo parlour and had his name and identity number tattooed on his body in case it happens again.
Some of our losses are more serious than others. This week a 54-year-old office worker was out on his motorcycle with a group of friends in the city of Hamamatsu, west of Tokyo. Unable to negotiate a curve in the road, the motorcyclist bumped into the central barrier, and though he felt excruciating pain, it wasn't until he stopped at the next intersection, two kilometres away, that he noticed that he'd lost his right leg! ("Biker drives away from accident unaware he lost his right leg," Reuters, August 15, 2007)
Many parents know the anxiety of a lost child. It happened to us more than once, and for some reason it was always Rachael. As a toddler she disappeared in a shopping mall, walking around under the clothes racks which were tall enough not to impede her walking but which hid her from view. Another time we lost her at a motel in Minnesota, but she had the presence of mind to go to the office and report herself missing!
Then there is the loss of more intangible things, like loss of innocence, peace of mind, happiness, and harmony – marital harmony, family harmony, congregational harmony.
Lost: One Sheep, one Coin, Two Brothers
Jesus told several stories of loss, and Luke compiled them into one chapter. Luke, chapter 15, begins with the story of a shepherd with a flock of a hundred sheep, one of which wandered off, in an amnesiac fugue, I imagine. When that little lackadaisical lamb was restored to the flock, the shepherd threw a party and there was much rejoicing!
Then Jesus tells the story of a woman who had a set of ten silver coins. She lost one of them. Scouring the house, she was so happy when she found it that she too threw a party!
The third story in the chapter is the familiar story of the two brothers, one of which wandered off to a far country while the other wandered off into resentment and anger. This story is not part of today's Gospel reading, but it leaves no doubt as to the theme of this chapter. In each story Jesus tells of something lost, of those who search for it and find it, and of the rejoicing which follows. And after each parable Jesus adds a comment underlining the theme of joy!
Jesus' stories are simple enough, but the interpretive approaches to them vary. A typical North American approach is to focus on the numbers. These are stories that appeal to accountants. Okay, 99 sheep in the assets column, one sheep in the debit column. Cut your losses! This is not rocket science. Cut your losses, and for goodness sakes, don't jeopardize the ninety-nine by dithering around with that one ditzy lamb! Similarly, in the story of the woman who lost one of her ten silver coins, a ten percent loss seems quite acceptable.
Through the Eyes of the Sheep
I once read a biography of Leo Tolstoy in which I got the impression that the biographer didn't really like Tolstoy. I expect more than hagiography from biographers, but it becomes rather irksome when an author continually nitpicks at his subject. We like to identify with the subject, much as we do when we read novels or watch movies. For two hours I am George Clooney, and it's well worth the price of admission not to be myself for a short time.
One of the ways in which Jesus' stories might help us is to ask ourselves: With whom do I identify in these stories? With whom did Jesus expect us to identify? Perhaps we were meant to identify with the lost sheep. This is not an altogether silly notion. Sometimes, like the lamb, we lose our way through our own folly, or like the coin, our lostness is associated with inertia, or like one of the two brothers, we lose our way through wilfulness.
We seldom use the spiritual language of lostness, but the Scriptures do, using it to speak of those who have lost touch with God. The psalmist says, "I have gone astray like a lost sheep...." (Psalm 119:176) Jesus referred to "the lost sheep of the house of Israel" (Matthew 10:6; 15:24), and said that he "came to seek out and to save the lost." (Luke 19:10)
Like the sheep, the coin, and the brothers, we may get ourselves into situations that are difficult to get out of. We paint ourselves into corners, and without intervention on the part of the shepherd, the woman, the father – God – we are lost to others – to our friends, our families, our community. If you read these stories through the eyes of the sheep, we have cause to hope.
Through the Eyes of Tax Collectors and Sinners
One of the groups present when Jesus told these stories was a group of tax collectors and sinners. If members of this group had any doubt that they were lost, there were always people around to remind them! They were lost to the community, community rejects who were not invited to birthday parties and other celebrations.
Tax collectors were a vile lot, profiting from the oppression of their own people, and often compounding their treason with theft! We don't know precisely who the "sinners" were, but the designation means that they were engaged in activities anathema to the community.
The one thing tax collectors and sinners had going for them is that they knew they were lost! Jesus' stories, however, gave them hope. All is not lost! There is a chance of being restored to the community! Jesus' own actions encouraged their hope. He didn't write them off. He took them seriously. He took them out for lunch.
Through the Eyes of the Scribes and Pharisees
We may find it difficult to identify with tax collectors and sinners because we're all pretty good people, but if that's the case we may have more than enough cause to identify with the scribes and Pharisees, who were also quite satisfied with their own goodness. The scribes and Pharisees were also there to hear Jesus' stories, but they listened to them with a sullen attitude. They were grumbling, even before Jesus told his stories. No doubt they were annoyed by the presence of sinners and tax collectors, but they were also unhappy that Jesus would socialize with that kind. The scribes and Pharisees may have sensed that they were implicated in Jesus' stories, but they did not consider themselves lost, so they certainly would not identify with the forlorn lamb or the lost coin.
The scribes and Pharisees saw the dangers of associating with the wrong crowd. What parent has not worried about a child falling in with the wrong crowd? That's about the extent, however, to which we can identify with the scribes and Pharisees. When you're convinced that you are right, then you can close your mind to other perspectives. Unless you have a capacity to be critical of yourself, there is little to be learned from looking at these stories through the eyes of the scribes and Pharisees.
Through the Eyes of the Jesus
It seems presumptuous to read these stories through the eyes of Jesus, but I admire his courage in choosing a middle road, a third way, if you will – an option potentially alienating to everyone. Jesus took the tax collectors and sinners seriously, but at no time did he condone their sinful behaviour. He took the scribes and Pharisees seriously, but at no time did he condone their self-righteousness and pigheadedness. If Jesus had pointed his soapbox toward the sinners, he would have been the hero of the scribes and Pharisees. If he had pointed his soapbox toward the scribes-and-Pharisees crowd, he would have been the hero of the sinner crowd. Jesus called them all to repentance.
It may be presumptuous to look at these stories through the eyes of Jesus, but I think we can benefit from them by observing the ways in which God is portrayed. God is a shepherd who goes out of His way to search for one lost sheep, no matter the gravity of the offence. God is a woman who literally digs up her dirt floor looking for her lost silver coin. Like this woman, God is deliberate in His search, and if you can stretch your imagination for a moment, it may be that God goes into paroxysms of laughter and joy upon finding that coin! God is the father in danger of losing both of his sons, but goes to great lengths to assure them both of his love.
The good news in these stories is that God's grace knows no boundaries! God searches for us, reorients us, and restores us. The God of Jesus' stories is a patient but relentless God who with "deliberate speed, majestic instancy," pursues us. To paraphrase Francis Thompson (1859-1907):
("The Hound of Heaven")
There is yet another way we could approach Jesus' stories, and here we might be helped by inserting a cultural lens into our glasses that doesn't usually come with Western spectacles. Heirs of a pervasive corporate culture, we tend to look at these stories through an accountant's eye-piece. It's all about the numbers! Heirs of an individualistic culture, we tend to focus on the lamb instead of the flock. Then the story tells us about the value of the one, and the power of one. The shepherd's action highlights the value of that one lamb. The woman's action underscores the value of the one coin.
Consider, however, that in the Middle Eastern culture of that day young women collected ten silver coins for a reason. It was customary, when they got married, to sew those ten coins into their headdress. For years a young woman would scrape and save to amass her ten coins, the head-dress being similar in sentimental and symbolic value to a wedding ring. The ten coin set was so inalienably hers that it could not be taken from her even to pay a debt. My wife, Dorothy, has a locket in which she carries a picture of me – holding a lamb, incidentally – and if she lost that locket she would search high and low for it. At least, I like to think that she would.
The woman in Jesus' story had ten coins with similar symbolic value, but their value lay in the fact that the ten coins were a set. In other words, I think the focus of Jesus' stories in this chapter may very well be on the aggregate, not on the individual pieces. The focus may very well be on the flock, rather than on each one of the hundred individual sheep. A flock of a hundred is a nice round number. To take one away, for whatever reason, makes the flock incomplete. To take away one coin from a ten-coin set is to disqualify it as a set; at best it is an incomplete collection. Symbolically, it's like making a partial commitment to your spouse-to-be at your wedding! It's a conditional commitment, which is not worthy of the word!
This interpretation of Jesus' stories is underscored, I think, by the recurring refrain that follows each story. When the shepherd finds the lost sheep he rejoices (Luke 15:5), returns it to the flock, calls the community together, and invites them to rejoice with him! (15:6) When the woman finds the lost coin, she returns it to the set, calls the community together, and invites them to rejoice with her! (15:9) When the wandering child is returned to his family, the father calls the community together, and invites them to rejoice with him! (15:22-24) And when the other son goes off in a corner to pout, the father goes out of his way to assure him of his love and to convince him that he too has reason to celebrate! (15:31-32)
"Just so, I tell you," said Jesus, "there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents." (Luke 15:10) The focus, I believe, is on restoration. The sheep was back where it belonged. The coin was back where it belonged. The two sons were back where they belonged, and though they might still have things to work through, they were a family!
The Joy of Full Communion with God and God's People
Philip Blackwell is a campus minister at the University of Chicago and a United Methodist minister, but early in his ministry he visited a Roman Catholic woman in the hospital at the request of her brother. She no longer attended Mass, but she wanted a visit from a priest, for she was dying from cancer. It was a mistake for Blackwell to visit her, however, for she wouldn't say a word to him. Blackwell writes:
He replied, "Well, we know that ...Scripture assures us that God is merciful and gracious."
"I don't want any of that Protestant namby-pamby stuff," she growled. "Does God forgive me?"
He tried again: "There is that passage where it says that as far as the east is from the west, God removes our sins from us."
"Don't quote Scripture to me," she said. "Answer me: Does God absolve me of my sins right now?"
Blackwell says that the urgency of the moment transformed him from Protestant to Catholic, and he learned the difference between the Words of Assurance – those comforting biblical passages that imply that God accepts us – and Absolution, the declaration that it is already accomplished. He declared:
I had a similar experience, a few years ago, with a man who left the Mennonite Church fifty years earlier to join the military. His son asked me to visit him on his death bed, and to offer him similar absolution, albeit of a muted Mennonite variety. His restoration to the community of faith from which he felt alienated may have been brief, but it was profound, and I like to think that at that moment there was great joy in the presence of God and all of his heavenly host.
We may come to church on Sunday mornings with heavy hearts, and at odds with one another, but this community is our home. It's in the presence of the community of faith that God's grace becomes visible and real, time and time again. May we find joy in the discovery that as sons and daughters of God, we are welcomed home with open arms by the One who never gives up searching for us. AMEN
"All which our child's mistake
Back Where I Belong!
Fancies as lost, (God has) stored for (us) at home...."
"I went back a second time, no response, and a third time, the same. I do not know why I went a fourth time, but that is when it began. She must have realized that I was well-intended, ...and she began to talk, and talk, and unburden herself of all of the regrets, grudges, anxieties, doubts, misdeeds, and missed opportunities in her life. She turned that hospital room into a confessional and insisted that I sit quietly and listen." ("Joy in the Presence," 2005)
When she finally finished she turned her head on the pillow to look at Blackwell for the first time and asked, "Does God forgive me?"
"Almighty God have mercy on you, forgive all your sins through our Lord Jesus Christ, strengthen you in all goodness, and by the power of the Holy Spirit keep you in eternal life."
She smiled, relaxed, and was at peace. Her communion with God was restored. Her name, coincidentally, was Joye. Blackwell was indeed in the presence of joy.
Quotations of Scripture are from the New Revised Standard Version, unless otherwise noted.