Readings: Luke 15:1-10         

In the gospel we heard two stories about lost things being found.  In the first, a sheep is separated from the flock.  It finds its way back through the love of the shepherd who searches until he finds it.    There is a joyous reunion when it is carried home on the shepherd's back.  In the second, a small silver coin becomes separated from a woman's headdress.  The woman does not give up until she finds the coin.  When she finds it, she rejoices with her neighbours. 

They are images that express great truths about our relationship with God, for they point to God's talent for finding us.  Fortunately, that talent is greater than our talent for getting lost.  And that is indeed good news. 

My suspicion is that we can all relate in some way to the stories.  No matter how many times I hear them there is something I sense about myself, about the times I have felt lost.  I remember the terrible fear I felt as a small child when I suddenly found myself separated from my parents, all alone in a big frightening store surrounded by tall shelves that completely cut off my vision.  I ran up one aisle and down the next in a complete panic.  What a wonderful feeling when I finally saw my mother’s familiar face.  How disconcerting when she didn’t even know I was lost!  Those feelings of panic come back to me at other times in my life when I feel lost and lose hope.  There are times in each of our lives when we have become lost in our failures and troubles.  We have all faced times in our lives when God has seemed far away.

I find it reassuring to see myself as that little sheep draped over the shepherd's shoulder being carried safely home.  My panic at discovering myself all alone and in need is over.  The good shepherd is there to guide, to comfort, and to restore.  And the rest of the flock is there to rejoice at my safe return.        

I can see myself as the lost coin lying out of sight in some dark corner of the hut.  I can picture the Palestinian woman lighting her candle and searching through the rushes on the floor until she finds me.  It is all so reassuring and cozy. 

But then I ask myself, “Who are the lost in the story?”  Jesus was speaking to a group of Pharisees and scribes who were grumbling about the kind of people he kept company with.  It seems he had an extraordinary attraction for the alienated of society, the sinners, the harlots, those in real need.  It annoyed the so-called righteous.  They saw people in terms of their sins.  It made them feel even more righteous.  And Jesus challenged that in them. 

This parable then, is less about restoring what is lost, and more about our ability to rejoice that this can happen.  And that is not as easy as it sounds.  Sometimes it is very difficult for those who are alienated from God to find their way back.  It may be because they do not even recognize that they are lost.  Or they are afraid, possibly with good reason, that we, good Christians that we are, will not accept them back.  It is sometimes very difficult for us to rejoice over the return of the one who was lost.  We are suspicious about why they are back.  We are certain that nothing in them has changed. 

When I travelled to Israel I toured with thirty other people by bus.  We travelled every day to various sites.  The guide would lead us and talk about the importance and the history of the each place.  Then he would give us time to see things for ourselves.  Because we were on a tight schedule, he always gave us clear instructions about when to meet back at the bus.  Most of us were compliant.  Within three or four minutes of the set time we would all be sitting on the bus.  Except for Fred!  We would wait and we would wait.  Isaac, our guide would go off looking for him.  When he did come back he would be nonchalant about it.  He relished telling stories about his forgetfulness.  There were no apologies. 

"Time," he told us, "has never had much meaning for me."  At first we laughed good-naturedly.  But we avoided him.  And as the trip wore on, our patience grew thinner and thinner. 

It was Isaac who finally took it in hand.  We were touring Nazareth.  We had seen Mary's well and the Church of the Ascension.  "You have until three o'clock to shop.  Then we must leave," Isaac told us.  Then he turned to Fred.  "And if you are late this time we are leaving without you.  We have another stop to make, and we must be at the hotel by seven.  Am I making myself clear?" 

Three o'clock arrived.  There were twenty-nine of us sitting on the bus.  No Fred! 

"Has anyone seen him?" Isaac asked.  "Ten minutes!  That's what I'll give him.  Then we're leaving!"  Ten minutes past.  Still no Fred!  A short conference at the front of the bus! 

"We'll split up and look for him," he explained to us taking three others with him.  "The rest of you just stay put.  Please!"  We complied.  Twenty minutes later they all returned.  Still no Fred! We were all very angry by this time. 

"Can we just go?" we all said.  "After all, you did warn him." 

"I know what I said.  But it's different when it happens," was Isaac's reply.  And we all knew he was worried.  We muttered about how little we cared.  But when it became dark and he still was not back, we too became worried. 

Isaac decided to go looking one more time.  This time he met with success.  It turned out that Fred had not just forgotten about time.  He really had gotten lost.  Feeling rather tired, he had found himself a quiet place to take a snooze.  He woke up in time.  But when he tried to find the bus, he had wandered in the wrong direction.  By the time Isaac had found him, he was in a total panic figuring that we really had left.  He had checked every tour bus in town. 

Seeing him looking pale and worried dissipated our anger.  In fact we all rejoiced that he had been found safely.  At the same time, we hoped that the experience had changed him somehow.  But you know, it really hadn't.  He continued to be somewhat late for the bus.  He continued to joke about his forgetfulness.  But somehow he did become more consciously a part of the group.  We began to keep track of where he went.  We took turns walking with him, getting to know him.  He stopped wandering quite so far. 

There are times when we get off centre and wander from God's way.  All is not lost.  God actively searches for us and never gives up.  We hear the call of the Good Shepherd.  We are restored to his loving care.  He delivers, heals, forgives, empowers, draws back to joy and health, strength and courage.  He gives purpose and meaning to lost souls. 

Christ is still out seeking the lost.  And that is where we must go as instruments through which Christ may find others who are wandering and in trouble.  We must help to touch them, to restore them, to give purpose and meaning to their lives.  For the joy of being loved and accepted calls us to love and accept others. 

I love Robert Fulghum's stories.  One that he tells is about hide-and-seek.  First he reminisces about his childhood experiences.  As he remembers it there is always one child who hides too well.   No one can find him.  Finally they simply give up and go on to something else, leaving him in his hiding place.  He goes on to tell of his frustration at watching a group of children at play.  The one child is totally hidden just below his window. Fulghum finally shouts, "Get found!" scaring the poor child and totally breaking up the game.

I say to you today, “Get found!”  And help others to get found.