February 18: "Lose Something?" (1st Sunday in Lent)

THE WORD IN THE GOSPEL  Luke 15:3-10

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.”

MESSAGE     “Lose Something?”

Welcome to Lent! For many people, Lent is a time when you give something up, like chocolate or the internet or Facebook. For other people, Lent is a time when you take something on, such as a spiritual practice like meditation, or a specific behavior like being more patient with others.

Did you know that the Christian season of Lent did not really develop until after the 4^th century? For the first 400-some-odd years of Christian history, there was no season of Lent.

But when people did start to observe a special season before Easter, it was for the purpose of preparing individuals to receive baptism, which was celebrated on Easter Sunday. Back then, and for a good part of church history, preparation for baptism was a drawn-out process, sometimes lasting as long as two years. That final period before Easter, which came to be known as the season of Lent, was the final push for people to prepare to be baptized and to make the vows of baptism. It was an intense time of spiritual discipline, learning, and penitence.

In other words, the church wanted these people to know what they were getting into before they took those vows, before they pledged their lives to Christ and to the church, before they set their feet on an intentionally Christian journey of following the ways of Christ every day.

In order to learn about what it meant to commit to following the ways of Christ, people needed to learn as much as they could about Jesus. And they did that by diving into the gospels, the stories about Jesus – the ways he healed and related to other people – and the stories of Jesus – the stories he told during his ministry.

Now, in order to teach the people and help them understand God and God’s ways, Jesus told a lot of stories. We call them “parables.” These are short stories, sometimes only a couple of sentences, sometimes a few paragraphs, that are designed to make people think about what Jesus was trying to teach them. They were stories that were framed in settings, words, and images that would have been very familiar to the people of Jesus’ day. That’s why there are so many parables about sheep and fig trees and fishing, for instance. Fig trees and sheep and fishermen were common things in first-century Galilee. The people saw them all the time.

Jesus’ stories were not designed to function like “fables” because there wasn’t one clear, unambiguous “moral” to the story. No, the stories Jesus told were open-ended, engaging, and thought-provoking. In addition, Jesus often used them to remind people about something, or to confront them, or even to disturb them and rouse them into action.

For each of the next four weeks, we will be talking about one of Jesus’ parables. Many of them will be familiar to you. Indeed, some of Jesus’ parables have become a part of popular culture – stories such as the Good Samaritan or the Prodigal Son, for instance.

But the problem with stories being so familiar is that we tend to think that we already know what the story means. We think we already know what Jesus was trying to teach us with the story. They say that familiarity breeds contempt. Maybe, but it also breeds indifference. Sometimes, the stories become so familiar that we stop listening to them in ways that challenge us or provoke us.

For this series of messages on the parables, I’ll be using a wonderful book by Amy-Jill Levine titled “Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi.” In this book, Dr. Levine notes that if we hear a parable, especially a familiar parable, and think, “Oh, that’s nice,” or “Oh, I really like that story,” or if we fail to see in the story any challenge to the ways we think or act, then we aren’t listening to the story well enough.

Last week, I talked about how important it is for us to listen to Jesus. I said that Jesus’ words aren’t confined to a place and time 2,000 years ago. Jesus continues to speak to us today through the words that are recorded in the gospels. If we claim to follow Jesus, then the stories he told can’t remain as historical artifacts to be cherished and admired. We need to ask two questions: first, what did the parables say to people of Jesus’ time, and second, what are they still saying to us today? At the very least, the parables or stories that Jesus told should provoke, confront, and unsettle us today just as much, if not more, than they did to people of his day.

The parables we’re looking at today are two stories about losing and finding and celebrating. In the first story, someone has 100 sheep, loses one, goes out and finds it, then celebrates with his friends. In the second story, a woman has 10 valuable coins, loses one, searches the house until she finds it, then celebrates with her friends.

Both of these stories have traditionally been interpreted as allegories – that is, each character or prop in the story can be directly related to something else. For instance, it’s common to connect the shepherd or the woman with God. The coin or the sheep are interpreted to be people who are lost through their sin. God, then, searches carefully for these lost people and rejoices when they are found.

But if we look more closely at the stories, we realize that that kind of interpretation doesn’t hold up. If we are willing to let the stories speak to us in new ways, we can detect a very different message.

For instance, in both cases, the blame for losing the sheep or the coin falls on the shepherd and the woman. The shepherd lost the sheep. The woman lost the coin. The sheep and the coin didn’t get lost by themselves. Even if the sheep wandered away, it had no concept of getting lost. The fact is that these things were lost through the carelessness or indifference of the people who were responsible for them.

Does that sound like something God would do?

And then when the sheep and the coin are found, do you think they care? The owners care a lot – so much so that they celebrate with their friends. But the sheep and the coin, again, have no concept of this joy of being found. They have no reason to celebrate.

Does that sound like a “sinner” who is “found” by God?

Finally, if we hear these stories as descriptions of “lost” sinners who are found, then we are reducing them to nice, happy stories that don’t threaten us or make us uncomfortable in any way.

Perhaps we can discover a “new” hearing or a “fresh” reading of these stories that would be more in line with the message that Jesus was trying to make – a message that provokes us, that challenges us, that calls us to action.

What if . . . what if the stories are not about us being lost, but instead, are about us losing something? What if WE are the shepherd and the woman? How would this change the message and significance of the stories?

First, it would mean that we need to recognize that we’ve lost something, and then take responsibility for it.

The shepherd had 100 sheep, and yet he realized one was missing. The woman had ten coins, but she still noticed one was missing.

How often do we think about what’s missing from our lives? How often do we take responsibility for it?

We’re all missing something. Maybe it’s faith. Maybe it’s hope. Maybe it’s patience. Maybe it’s honesty and authenticity. All of us are missing something that would make our relationship with God and with others as full as possible. When was the last time we really took stock of our lives, our faith, and our relationships instead of simply assuming that everything is where it should be?

Second, it would mean that we need to be actively, intentionally searching for whatever it is that we’ve lost. Jesus begins both these stories with a very pointed rhetorical question: “Which one of you,” he asks, “if you lost something valuable, would not go and search until you find it?”

Indeed. This is where the story provokes us, confronts our apathy, afflicts our comfort, and calls us to action. If we are to follow Jesus, if we are to be on a journey toward an ever-deepening relationship of love with God and others, then we are to be constantly searching for what we’re missing.

In his gospel, Luke introduces these two stories by describing the setting that Jesus finds himself in. And, as is often the case with the gospels, this setting is critical to our interpretation of the stories. Luke tells us that “all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to Jesus. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, ‘This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.’”

So the stories have something to do with sinners and other outcasts.

Luke tells us after each story that there will be “more joy in heaven” over one sinner who repents. As I noted, many people take this to mean the one lost sheep or the one lost coin.

But what if . . . here I go again . . . what if, when Jesus talks about the one “sinner,” he means the man or woman who realizes something is missing? What if by “repenting,” Jesus means “taking responsibility for losing something valuable in our relationship with God, and then going all out to find it?”

What if the “righteous” people in Jesus’ stories represent those religious experts who were grumbling, and who couldn’t or wouldn’t recognize what was missing in their own lives?

Rather than hearing these stories as a comforting ones – ones in which God searches for us who are lost and then brings us back into the fold – perhaps we need to hear them as a clear call to recognize what we might have lost in our lives, and then go out and search for it until we find it. This isn’t easy. It’s hard work. But for all our efforts of taking stock of ourselves and our faith, and our hard work of searching, we will experience the celebration of incredible joy when we find what’s missing.

In finding what is lost is the potential for the wholeness and joy that God longs for us to know.

So, for your Lenten practice this week, I challenge you to discover what’s missing in your relationship with God, and then go out and start the work of finding it. Amen.