Luke 15 is recognised for
“lost things.” This week, we see two parables—one about a lost sheep and one
about a lost coin. Perhaps we get these back-to-back stories about lost things
because Jesus knows that none of us really gets lost in exactly the same way.
Take sheep, for example. We don’t much like thinking of ourselves as the sheep.
Sheep get lost in what could almost be called “the stupid way.” They are also,
however, noted for their one-track minds—sheep seem to nibble their way into
being lost, following the greener grass and never looking up above their tasty
fare. But if sheep do that for long enough, they can eat themselves into a very
lost place.
Sometimes when they do that
they become the consumed rather than the consumer. Some among us are like
sheep—not necessarily because we’re stupid but because we get lost even without
meaning to get lost—arbitrarily naming something as “the ultimate good” and
unthinkingly striving to attain that “good,” no matter what. We’re unswerving
too—we never look up, chasing after that goal (perhaps it’s a material
possession, or something like a degree, a promotion, a raise, or making our
child “the best” at this sport or that subject in school)—and before we know
it, we’re lost.
“I didn’t mean to leave the
flock,” we say when we come to our senses, when we realize the appetite that
got hold of us was an alien one. Sometimes we come to our senses on our own.
But more likely, if we are sheep, it’s because of a shepherd. The shepherd
knows his flock. No matter how large the flock, it seems, there is this sixth
sense shepherds have that tells them one sheep is missing. “It’s the one who
has that spot on her head,” they may say as they walk purposefully around the
brush.
Just as the sheep are lost
and the women loses her coin’s people get lost this way too. Sometimes life’s
events just take you away, into some obscure corner of the world. But sometimes
it is an event, a person, maybe a boss or a professor or a coach. You’ve been
mishandled. Maybe you’ve even been dropped—totally dropped—thinking you’d never
be found again. Perhaps you’ve said, in the darkest of moments, “I’m not just
lost. I’m forgotten. No one is looking for me.”
In these stories Jesus tells
us that there is a God who comes to save the lost. God knows us, knows our
hiding places and the little nooks and crannies that we slip into from time to
time, and he comes to save us. Salvation always looks different than we expect
it to—sometimes pleasantly different, and sometimes it looks like rehab,
marriage counselling, a job you wouldn’t ordinarily want—but a job is a job is
a job.
We should also never forget that
God has a body, the church, and that sometimes God retrieves us through this
body. Pastor is Latin for “shepherd,” and in a sense, we are all called to be
pastors, shepherds— gatherers of lost people—through our comings and goings,
our liturgies, our various gifts. May God give us the diligence to search for
the lost and the wisdom to know what to do after we find them.
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