Lost and Found (A sermon from Luke 15:1-10)
Robert Fulghum in his book, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in
Kindergarten tells about playing hide and seek in his neighborhood growing
up. He says there was one kid who always hid too good. After a while they would
give up trying to find him. Later, after they had quit the game he would show
up and he would be upset. Fulghum writes, “There’s hiding and there’s finding,
we’d say. And he’d say it was hide and seek not hide and give up, and we’d all
yell about who made the rules and who cared about who, anyway, and how we
wouldn’t play with him anymore if he didn’t get it straight and who needed him
anyhow, and things like that.” Fulghum says that it didn’t matter what they
said, sure enough, the next time they played hide and seek he would inevitably
hide too good. Some of us are really good at hiding. We hide behind our
position, our place, our pride, our possessions, and our privilege. Many of us hide
from our true selves. We may be lost, and not even know it, which is true of
the Pharisees and scribes in our text. .
Luke says that the tax collectors and
sinners were coming to Jesus, and Jesus welcomes them and eats with them, and
the Pharisees and scribes grumble and complain. Why do the Pharisees and
scribes grumble and complain? Because Jesus is calling into question their
worthiness system. Jesus is all about inclusion, Jesus practices an open table,
while the religious leaders restrict and control access as a way of exercising
power and control. They set the rules, and Jesus breaks the rules.
Now, when the Jewish leaders talk about
“sinners” they are talking about people who, for whatever reason, do not heed
their (the gatekeepers) application of Jewish law, especially the purity laws
and the laws surrounding eating – what you eat, how you eat, and especially who
you eat with. For the religious leaders of Jesus’ day the laws governing eating
and table fellowship became a test case for who is “in” and who is “out.” Jesus
defied such laws, which got him in a whole bunch of trouble with the Jewish
leaders.
It’s easy for us to be judgmental and
dismissive of the Pharisees and scribes here, but what we don’t realize is that many of us do the same sort of thing.
I know I did for years, and maybe still do in ways that I don’t even realize. What
the Pharisees and scribes did with the holiness code, the laws of purity, we do the same thing with our particular religious
beliefs. I just can’t understand why so many Christians can’t see this,
though, I have to admit, it took me some time to see it. The majority of
Christians today believe that God only accepts Christians, that if you are not
Christian you are excluded, you are not a child of God, and we have seen in our
history and especially today how that breeds feelings of superiority and
exceptionalism and elitism, and has done far more damage in our world than
bring help and healing. Most churches still do missions and evangelism on the
basis of an exclusionary Christianity. We think we have to get people of other
religious faiths or of no faith to believe like we believe about Jesus, and God,
and the Bible and so forth. And if they don’t share our religious beliefs, we
say they are lost. We don’t realize that in many ways we are just as lost or
even more lost than they are. But when the light comes on, we realize then that
we are all in this together. In our most
honest and insightful moments we realize that that we are all lost in some way
and need to be found.
Fred Craddock reminisces about playing
hide and seek as a child on the farm: “When my sister was ‘It,’ says Craddock,
“she cheated.” She would count, ‘One,
two, three, four, five, six, seven, ninety-three, ninety-four.’ But Fred had a
place under the steps of the porch. Because he was small he could get under
there and never be found. He could hear his sister going to and fro, in the
house, out of the house, in the weeds, in the trees, down to the corncrib, in
the barn. He knew she wouldn’t find him. He would almost give himself away
snickering to himself, “She’ll never find
me here, she’ll never find me here.” Fred then says that it occurred to him
that she would never find him. So
after a while he would stick out a toe. His sister would walk by and see it and
run back to base and say, ‘Ha ha, you’re it, you’re it.’ Fred would come out brushing
himself off and say, ‘Oh shoot, you found me.’ Don’t we all want to be found?
Who can forget that scene where E.T.
points his long, straggly finger toward the sky and says, “E.T. phone home.” It
is a gripping image because we all identify in some way with E.T. We have all
known that longing for home, the longing to feel that we belong, to be found by
people who love us and miss us and want us to be with them. It is a poignant
image of the spiritual longing in each one us because all our longings for home, for place, for a sense of security and
belonging reflect this deeper longing for Love, which is actually a longing for
God, even though we may not even know it or think of it as a longing for God at
all. But it really is, because the essence of God is Love. As the Apostle
John said, “God is Love.”
Do we want to be found? Do we want God
or Love (with a capital L) to find us? The place where we are found, the place
where we experience God’s love, is not just a one way street. In the postscript
to both the story of the lost sheep and the story of the lost coin, where Luke
is probably adding his interpretation, there
is celebration in heaven over one sinner who repents. Everyone is welcome.
No one is rejected or excluded. No one is turned away. But not everyone is
found. There is the sinner who repents, but there is also mention of
ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance. Is that possible? Are
there people who are so just, so righteous they need no repentance? Of course
not. This is an allusion to the Jewish leaders who think they are righteous and need no repentance, but are just as
lost, and maybe even more so, than the ones they labeled “sinners.” In fact,
they are the hardest ones to find,
because they (the Jewish leaders and those like them) are lost, but don’t think
they are. Luke suggests that the
finding requires some change, some effort, some recognition of our need and
directional turn around on our part. Luke, and many other biblical writers, call this repentance.
Luke puts an emphasis on repentance
throughout his Gospel. Luke’s Gospel begins with John the Baptist calling on
all the people who came out in the desert to hear him to bring forth fruit in
keeping with repentance. And at the end of the Gospel, the disciples are
charged with preaching forgiveness of sins and repentance in the name of Christ
to all people. Luke emphasizes “all people.” It’s proclaimed to all people
because all are included. Unlike the Jewish leaders who divided people and
labeled people “in” and “out” on the basis of their worthiness system, in God’s
household, all are already in. Repentance
is not necessary to get in. Repentance is necessary to experience what it means
to be “in” and to live as God’s children in the world.
We can be found, or we can be like the
ninety-nine and think we need no repentance. We can be like the elder son in
the next story who refuses to join the party. In that story the Father welcomes
the prodigal and throws him a party upon his return. But the elder brother refuses
to join the party. The elder brother is bitter and angry and resentful. We know
all about this kind of resentment today, because it is this kind of resentment
that fuels our nation’s immigration policy and practice. It’s the resentment
and bitterness of the elder son. But even the elder son is not “out.” I love
what the Father says to the elder son. The Father goes out to persuade the
elder son to join the party, just as the Father went out to welcome the
returning prodigal. The Father says, “Son,
you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate
and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life, he
was lost and has been found.” The elder son is “in.” The elder son is
loved. But if the elder son is to join the party, if the elder son is to
experience the joy of the party, he will have to repent of his bitterness. He will
have to let go of his sense of entitlement and superiority. He will have to turn
from his resentment and anger toward his younger brother. He needs to repent,
just as the younger brother needed to repent. We all do. You can be a Christian
and be just as lost as anyone else. In fact, many Christians today are just as lost as the religious
leaders in Jesus’ day. And they are the
hardest ones for God to find, because they don’t think they are lost, and they
are full of a sense of entitlement and full of resentment.
God’s love is like radio waves. God’s
love goes out in all directions and falls upon all. But in order to receive
God’s love, in order to experience God’s
love in your heart and mind and soul, you have to be tuned in. The question
is: What will it take for us to be tuned in? The specifics of that will vary,
but it’s going to take some kind of
change of heart. It may involve a change in the way we think and relate to
God. When you consider what some Christians believe about God and think about
God, it’s no wonder they never personally experience the love of God, because
the God they believe in isn’t very loving. Other folks, in order to receive
God’s love, may need to get some help with some destructive habits or addictions.
Others may simply need to think of others more and engage in practices of
kindness and generosity. Still others may need to learn to be more grateful.
Repentance, change of heart and mind and
will can take us in many different directions, but they all converge in the
experience of God’s love. The end, the goal is the same – to know and
experience and share God’s love. That’s the goal. Getting there may take us
along different routes. But that’s the destination.
There was a young man who aspired to be
the student of a particular Zen master who was widely known as a man of great
compassion and spiritual wisdom. This young man is invited to an interview at
the master’s house. The student wants to impress the master with his interest
and desire and so he rambles on and on about his spiritual experiences, his
past teachers, and his capacity for spiritual insight. The master listens
silently while pouring a cup of tea. As the young man goes on and on, the
spiritual master keeps pouring and soon the cup is overflowing. The would-be disciple
notices the tea spilling all over the table. He cries out, “Master, the cup is full.” The teacher responds, “Yes, and so are you. How can I possibly
teach you?” When we are full or ourselves, then there is no room for God’s
love. When we are full of pride, or when we are full of prejudice, or
resentment, or jealousy, or greed, or our own accomplishments or even our own
failures, there is no room for God’s love to abide.
These stories invite us to see ourselves
as lost in one way or another, and they assure us that God will not give up
until God finds us. God doesn’t quit the game when we hide too good. But these stories also invite us to experience
God’s love by sharing the heart of God, who loves all God’s children with an
inclusive, magnanimous, unconditional, and eternal love. As the story of
the Father and his two sons teach us, being found means joining the Father in
the celebration of the prodigal’s return. In the story of the Father and his
two sons, there was one son who was lost and needed to be found, and there was
another son who was found who ended up being lost, because he refused to share
the heart and joy of the Father over the son, his brother, who came home.
Christians today, who cannot feel hurt for God’s children who are being
oppressed or joy when they are liberated do not have God’s love. If a Christian
or for that matter anyone does not feel compassion or grieved by the way the
undocumented are being treated by our leaders and by others in this country, then
that person does not know and has not experienced the love of God. Because
God’s love is not restricted or exclusive. It is inclusive and extends to all.
Knowing God and experiencing God’s love
means sharing the heart of God. It means allowing God to love in us and through
us. Thomas Merton puts it this way: “I
who am without love cannot become love unless Love identifies me with Love’s
Self. [God is love] But if God sends God’s own Love, God’s Self, to act and
love in me and in all that I do, then I shall be transformed, I shall discover
who I am and shall possess my true identity by losing myself in God [or we
could say, in Love – capital L].” There are many persons, many Christians who
really don’t know who they are or who God is, because they have never allowed
God’s inclusive love to fill their lives.
The shepherd in our story is willing to
take a big risk. He leaves the sheep in the sheepfold without protection, putting
himself at risk and leaving the remaining sheep at risk in order to find the
one that is lost. That’s not logical. It’s not good shepherding. It’s not even
good pastoral care. But the shepherd loves
the lost one so much that he is willing to take the risk in order to find it.
Do we share the Father’s love? Do we want to? Are we willing to leave ourselves
vulnerable, are we willing to take a risk in order to share God’s inclusive
love?
Our good God, let us not make the
mistake when we read stories like this in thinking they do not apply to us, but
to someone else. Help us to see, O God, that we are all lost in one way or
another. And may we all long to be found in your love, to know and experience
your love. But help us to realize, O God, that the only way we can really enter
into the experience of your love is by sharing your love for all people. Our
hearts may need to change for that to happen. Give us the want and will to do
what we can do to open our lives to your compassion and love. Amen.
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