Luke 15:1-10
Today’s stories in Luke are sometimes called the “lost” stories. We read about the lost sheep and the lost coin. If we’d keep going, we’d read about the lost son next. They give us a chance to think together about the experience of being lost or of losing something important to us.
In a religious context what first comes to mind when we say someone is “lost”? The hymn sings “I once was lost but now I’m found, was blind but now I see.” In that context “lost” means going the wrong direction, often as in not knowing God’s love or believing in Jesus. In bygone years the purpose of the church was to “seek and save” the lost – or to convert people to Christianity. When I think about “lost” in that way I feel hopeless. Being lost implies we won’t find our way to heaven or know the blessings of life with God. It’s often paired with being a sinner or doing all the wrong things for the wrong reasons. It’s a bad thing to be lost.
Sometimes in my life “lost” has been a good thing. When we lived in Seattle we used to play a game called “let’s get lost.” We’d drive off our usual route and see what new things we could discover. Some days my kids worried I’d never find our way home, but in a town with one north/south freeway, a big lake and a sound you can’t get permanently lost. Before we found our way home, we discovered lots of adventures. That kind of lost opens us up to new opportunities. It pushes us beyond our comfort zone to learn new things.
The other day I was lost in a book. I sat down to read a few pages and came to hours later in love with a new cast of characters and a world I’d never imagined. Like wandering back roads, getting lost in literature or music or the wonders of nature helps us find the true center of our lives. It too pushes us to learn and grow.
A less magical kind of lost comes when life throws us curve balls and we temporarily lose our sense of purpose. We’re feeling “lost” when familiar work or relationships no longer seem to fit. We have a sense that we should do something new, but it’s not clear what that is. That kind of lost is one of the most uncomfortable. If we stick with the feeling and explore where it’s coming from, we can often “find” a new way forward. We change careers, make new friends, start a new hobby, learn to play an instrument or paint a picture. Again, being lost can be productive when it challenges us to become more than we’ve been before.
If we think about “lost” in these ways, what does it mean to “find” God? That too can be a way of growing into our own. Not because what went before was wrong but because there’s a possibility of much more. If we think of God as the highest good in life, then finding ourselves more closely aligned with that good opens our hearts to more love. We gain a sense of purpose and find peace in the ways we belong to God’s community.
If these stories are about being lost, they are also about being the loser. What is the experience of losing something or someone? The stories tell us that what is lost has value and so the one who has lost it works hard to find it again. The shepherd counts the sheep at night and hurries to find the one who’s missing. The woman counts her coins and turns the house upside down looking for the one she’s short. Why? Because they don’t want to be without. What’s gone begs to be found.
You and I don’t go looking for things we don’t care about. When I drop a tissue out on a walk, I just take another. I don’t retrace my steps looking for the first one. In my house I sometimes find things I didn’t even know were missing. I think: Where did this come from? How long has it been there? These aren’t things of great value. In fact, life goes on just fine without them. But what about those things we do care about? The remote to the air conditioner carefully stored away for winter demands a thorough search when the weather turns warm. I’m looking for my favorite pair of earrings I’ve misplaced recently. The other day I decided to wash the waste basket and when I dumped out the water, here came a bracelet I’d given up ever finding.
Losing things can be a nuisance, but other losses are more devastating. We lose our loved ones to illness or age – or sometimes to careless words or lives that take different paths. Those losses take our breath away and we wonder if we’ll survive them. In the course of a life we lose a job or two and wonder if we’ll find another. We sometimes lose our sight, or our mental acuity, or our flexibility. Most of those things don’t come back. The sensation of losing can be devastating.
The message I love most about these stories isn’t that we’re lost and in trouble. I’m not sure that’s true. I love the fact that God is devastated when God’s thinking the connection with us is gone. When we’re missing, God throws over everything to find us and to reconnect. Do you remember the panic you feel when a young child wanders off in a store? Imagine God caring that much about being with you.
These stories aren’t about what’s wrong with you, they’re about what’s right: you are beloved by God. You are of infinite value. God would spend your whole lifetime looking for you. There is nothing God won’t do to find you and to let you know how amazing and important you are.
And here’s one last way to think about these stories of lost and found: in the infinite realm of God’s love you can’t be lost. Like a child who thinks Dad is missing when Dad is watching all the time. Like the mom who follows from a distance so the child can think she walked to school all by herself. If we feel separated from God, it’s not God who is absent. The moment we turn and acknowledge God’s presence, God is there for us.
When I’m feeling snarky and someone asks me if I’ve been “saved” I say no – because I was never lost. It’s not possible to live outside of God’s presence. It’s possible to ignore God’s love, but it’s not possible to not BE loved. God is the air we breathe, the movement of our cells, the pull of the tide and the ground of our being. God is always in us, around us, between us.
And what is the response when we realize this truth? Joy! Our joy; God’s joy; the world’s joy. The end of the story is rejoicing and celebration.