Many years ago—for the first time—I accompanied catechetical students for a week of church camp. Located in North Carolina—near the Smokies—it was full of rugged terrain and thick forests.
One day I decided to go exploring on my own, after a while leaving a well-worn path to hike in the denser part of the woods. Eventually I came to a clearing—a large meadow filled with tall grass swaying in the wind. I thought, “Maybe I’ve made a circle of sorts and am now returning to the camp.” But every direction simply led me back into the forest—with no cabins or campers anywhere in sight. I was lost. “Oh, well. It could be worse. It could be raining.” Then, looking up, I saw that the light, billowy clouds were being quickly replaced by a dark, menacing sky. In a few minutes, it was raining cats and dogs. Eventually, I did find my way back to camp, where others saw not only scratches all over my legs, but also that I was drenched to the bone.
In one way or another, each of today’s readings has to do with the theme of being lost. In Exodus, for example, God’s people had once again grown anxious out in the wilderness. This time their leader, Moses, had left sometime earlier to meet God on Mt. Sinai. They began worrying he would never return and so, in their anxiety and impatience, decided to fashion out of gold their very own god. Before even seeing the commandments carved into those two tablets of stone, they had already violated the very first and most important one of all: “I am the LORD thy God. Thou shalt have no other gods before me”….They had become spiritually lost.
In the New Testament lesson, St. Paul briefly recounts the sins of his own earlier life: “I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence.”[i] Like overly zealous people throughout the ages, he had been wearing horse blinders, feeling compelled, feeling driven to round up those he believed were dangerous heretics and bring them to justice. Without even knowing it, he himself had become spiritually lost. Only in his later encounter with Jesus—on the road to Damascus—did he become transformed. Only after God turned him around 180 degrees did he begin going in the right direction—saving people instead of destroying them.
And the psalm of the day? You may recognize it as the one we use at the beginning of every season of Lent—on Ash Wednesday. The Prophet Nathan has just confronted King David about the terrible wrongs he’s committed—breaking not just one but three or four of the commandments:
- Desiring Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hittite, who was away at war. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.”
- Then calling her to the palace, so he could have his way with he, because, as the king, he could. “Thou shalt not commit adultery.”
- Then trying to cover up the fact that she became pregnant with his child. “Thou shalt not lie.”
- And last—when that didn’t work—arranging to have Uriah killed in battle. “Thou shalt not murder.”
David had become morally lost to the nth degree. Only when the severity of his sins had been found out, did he confess, repent, and beg God for mercy.
In the gospel are those who also are lost—tax collectors and sinners. The first group is easily identified—Jews who made their income by getting money out of the hands of their fellow citizens and putting it into the treasury of the Roman government—and often pocketing a good portion for themselves as well.
The second group—the sinners—who exactly were they? Well, certainly among them were those who did not wash themselves ritually before meals or always abide by dietary regimen prescribed by their faith. Often the poor could be counted among them.
But others were regarded as sinners because of their overall lifestyles.
- Men who caroused and drank to excess.
- Women who worked as ladies of the evening.
We could say they were all engaged in so-called victimless crimes—although substance abuse usually affects not just one but several persons. And women who work in the so-called oldest profession? Not often do they do so willingly.[ii]
So the Pharisees and scribes—who consistently sought to lead good lives—become rather upset with Jesus and seemingly with good reason. “Why can he not at least be like John the Baptist? Spell out their sins to them? Demand that they repent first and only then enjoy the company of the Good Teacher?”
But Jesus doesn’t take that approach. Instead, as one commentator puts it, “he demonstrate[s] a willingness to value them as persons and enter relations with them as people of worth before there is any repentance….[Rather than putting] the focus on [their] deeds [or misdeeds, he] puts the focus on the person and [the] possibility of transformation.”[iii]
That’s the point Jesus is making in each of the parables. The sheep has wandered off. Why? Because sheep aren’t very smart. They don’t do it intentionally. They just don’t know any better. (Like a person who sometimes wanders off the path at a church camp and gets lost!)
And the lost coin? It’s an inanimate object. It can’t sin. On its own, it’s incapable of doing anything.
The emphasis here is actually on the shepherd and on the woman. It’s on the man leaving, going after the sheep, finding the sheep, laying it on his shoulders, rejoicing, returning home, and celebrating. The same with the woman: lighting a lamp, sweeping the house, searching carefully, discovering the coin, and also celebrating.[iv]
Judging others and leaving it at that is the easy thing to do. But the difficult thing is to meet, to engage others on their own terms, on their own turf, remembering that God loves them just as much as anyone else—that they too are sons and daughters of the Maker of all things.
Even we Christians who take our faith seriously can end up feeling lost at one time or another, due to one thing or anotheror several things all at once. But in listening to Jesus, in drawing near to him as the tax collectors and sinners did, we realize he has been with us the entire time—that he’s never left us.
We keep in mind, then, to regard and approach others with a degree of spiritual humility—discerning whether God might be using us to engage others, to listen to their stories, to accept them where they are, and perhaps invite them into a new life or maybe return to a life they have wandered away from.
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This week a new café is opening up in downtown York—on the square. Waiting a long time for such a place, I’m going to check it out, maybe get some lunch there. But maybe mostly just get some coffee, hang out while wearing my collar, and see whether anyone might be interested in striking up a conversation. Who knows what might happen?
[i] 1 Timothy 1:13a.
[ii] William Loader, “First Thoughts on Year C Gospel Passages from the Lectionary: Pentecost 17.”
[iii] Ibid.
[iv] The theme of searching, finding, and celebrating is emphasized by David Schnasa Jacobsen, “Commentary on Luke 15:1-10” in Working Preacher (September 15, 2019).