Always Looking 9-14-25
Always Looking
1 Tim 1:12-17, Luke 15:1-10
1 Tim 1:12-17
I am grateful to Christ Jesus our Lord, who has strengthened me, because he judged me faithful and appointed me to his service, even though I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence. But I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the foremost.But for that very reason I received mercy, so that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display the utmost patience, making me an example to those who would come to believe in him for eternal life. To the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever. Amen.
Luke 15:1-10
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.”
Prayer – God of the Lost, you are relentless in your determination to come to each one of us and invite us to join your celebration, otherwise known as church. We give thanks that you love us enough to overcome any of our resistance and defenses and come to us where we are, receiving us as we are. You did not leave us to our own desires and devices but rather came to us, instructed us, and revealed yourself to us so that knowing where you are going, we might follow you.
Keep moving toward us, Loving Lord. When we are secure and settled, pleased with things as they are, stir up in us a spirit of restlessness whereby we are set in motion, eager to follow you where you go rather than to stay where we are, willing to walk with you in your great reclamation of your world. When we are smug in our relationship to you, pleased that we believe, that we know, and that we have seen the light, lay upon us responsibility for the lost that your will might be done, the lost might be found and all might come to know you as dearly as you have always looked and found us. Amen.
A parable is a small story with a large point. Most of the ones Jesus told have a kind of sad fun about them. The parables of the Crooked Judge (Luke 18), the Sleepy Friend (Luke 11), and the Distraught Father (Luke 11) are really jokes in their way, at least part of whose point seems to be that a silly question deserves a silly answer. In the Prodigal Son which follows our lesson this morning, the elder brother's pious pique when the returning Prodigal gets the red-carpet treatment is worthy of Moliere's Tartuffe, as is the outraged legalism of the Laborers in the Vineyard (Matthew 20) when Johnny-come-lately gets as big a slice of the worm as the early bird. The point of the Unjust Steward is that it's better to be a resourceful rascal than a saintly schlemiel (Luke 16); and of the Talents that, spiritually speaking, playing the market will get you further than playing it safe (Matthew 25). (Frederick Buechner)
I bet that you have heard today’s gospel before. When Jesus is criticized for spending so much time seeking out those who are lost, marginalized, outcast from the faith community, Jesus tells a couple of stories in response: A shepherd leaves his ninety-nice sheep safe in the fold and goes out and seeks and searches for the one lost sheep. A woman loses one of her coins and turns her house upside down seeking and searching for the one coin.
Get it? God is the seeking shepherd, the searching woman. Jesus Christ, the good shepherd who doesn’t wait for the one lost sheep to find its way back home. The shepherd seeks and searches until….I guess there could be shepherds who, when one sheep wanders, count their losses, do a quick cost benefit analysis and write off the loss the sheep, focusing on the ninety-nine who didn’t wander.
Or maybe there are shepherds who, upon discovering that one of their sheep is missing, go out, beat the bushes, put forth reasonable efforts and then, calls it a day. Waste of time. Perhaps someday that wandering sheep will come to its senses and find its way back home.
One of my favorite authors is Charles Martin, and all of his books could be characterized to a degree or another as parables. He has a series of books about a man, Bones, who looks for the lost. Part of the story is about him training a college student, Murphy, to chose door 2 as he did to look for children who have been abducted and trafficked. And the hook, because every book has a hook is when Bones asks Murphy what he knows about sheep. The response is they get lost. To which Bones asks further about leaving the 99 to find the one.
Chapter 15 is the heart of Luke’s gospel and is known as the “Lost Chapter.” In its three parables of Lost and Found – Sheep, Coin, and Sons – Jesus uses images of God that are offensive to 1st century Palestinians – a shepherd, a woman and a father who has no pride. In the parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin we find the metaphorical response of how a shepherd responds as a frivolous prodigal by leaving the 99 in search for the one lost sheep and the ridiculousness of a woman searching all night long for what is the equivalent of a misplaced quarter. A definition of ‘lost’ seems as broad as its incidences – unable to be found; not knowing where you are or how to get where you want to go; unable to find your way; no longer held, owned, or possessed.
“Which one of you shepherds if one of your sheep should wander off would you not abandon the other sheep who lack curiosity to wander and go and beat the bushes, to search high and low until you found the lost sheep? And when you found that one lost sheep would you not put it on your shoulders as if it were a lost child and rush back to your friends and neighbors shouting, I found my one lost sheep. I’m throwing a party such as this town has never seen. Come party with me!?” Which one of us wouldn’t do that?
“And which one of you women if you misplaced a quarter would not move all the heavy appliances out of your house onto the porch, push all the furniture out into the yard, and rip up the carpet? And when you found that lost quarter would you not run up and down the street calling to everyone, Hey everybody, I found that lost quarter! All of you are invited to a 48-hr bash at my house (as soon as I get the furniture back in place), and we’re going to tie one on!?” Which one of us wouldn’t do that?
“Which one of us had an algebra teacher who knew we were struggling with the class and so showed up at the house one evening, knocked on the door and barged in when one of your parents opened the door, ripped the TV out of the wall, pushed you down into a kitchen chair and begin teaching algebra page by page, problem by problem? And at first light of dawn, as you finally began to understand algebra for the first time would not say, ‘Okay, this student of mine who was flunking is now on the way to a good grade. Break out the potato chips and dip, turn up the music, and let’s have a party that will wake the neighbors!?” Which of us had an algebra teacher like that?
Well, of course, none of us would do that and I for one never had a teacher who came to the house to tutor me all night long. I’m pretty certain there isn’t a person here who would ever behave like that teacher, that shepherd, or that woman. If one abandons their flock to go beat the bushes looking for one lost sheep will likely lose lots of sheep! Tearing apart your house in search for one lost quarter makes for terrible housekeeping. Stalking a student in a desperate attempt to teach algebra is beyond the bounds of ‘teacher.’ No sensible, thoughtful, responsible person would do anything like that.
The surprising ending to the stories is that the story isn’t about what you or I would do, but about what God does. God is the seeking shepherd, the searching woman, the relentless math teacher. Here is what I love about these stories before us now – they speak the certain truth that it is God, GOD who always looks for us and finds us, it isn’t up to you are me to do something that results in our being found. Like the lost sheep and the lost coin you and I simply cannot get found all on our own. We cannot open the door ourselves. These stories of being lost speak vividly of God’s intent ALWAYS to rescue the lost. That is a pretty sharp contrast to what our world teaches us about being lost and that it is up to us to use some cosmic, theological GPS to find our way back.
God’s message to us, through these parables, is this: “You are mine, you have always been mine. You were created in my image and therefore connected to me. And because you are mine, I will seek you wherever you are and try to bring you back home – because I love you so much!” Can we be open to that kind of amazing love? Can we let down our defenses and self-doubts just long enough simply to receive it, to be engulfed and swept away by this love? (Julie Perry, Review and Expositor, 109, Spring 2012)
Both the effort to find the lost sheep and the celebration over the lost coin seems to be overkill. Thus is the frivolous, prodigal, nature of the Gospel. This is how Jesus characterizes God’s love – a love that is always looking for us. There’s good news here. God isn’t the god you expected. God isn’t the one who sits back saying, “They know my office hours. If they want to be with me, they know where to find me. Come to church between 11 and 12 on Sunday and we’ll talk.” God doesn’t wait for you and me to come to God – God, in seeking, searching with love, comes to us.
It has been 24 years since 9/11 and we have seen amazing ways in which God came to us during that time. People traveled from all over the world to come help with the search for survivors; a small Episcopal church two blocks from the twin towers somehow escaped destruction and became a place for respite for the first responders and all who looked for the injured; a world came together to support the survivors of that day; and even though lives were lost that day, their memory will never be lost. On a day of such destruction we were reminded that even evil may have a day, but ultimately love and mercy wins.
Our parable this morning isn’t ultimately about terrorists or sinners or even who is righteous. Our parable this morning really isn’t about being lost and found. Our parable this morning is a reminder to us about a God who is so crazy in love with God’s children, that this God will do anything to find us. Which of you, Jesus asks, would go to such lengths to search and find and then welcome back and celebrate? Truth be told, few, if any, of us would. But God would and does, even now, putting all at risk to seek us out, lighting a lamp and sweeping, sweeping, sweeping until we are all caught up in God’s mercy, grace and love. Thanks be to God – amen.