We Are Lost

Gospel Reflection Luke 15:1-10

Create in me a clean heart O God, and renew a right Spirit within me.

Everyone loves the story of the lost sheep. It doesn’t matter that it’s been a few generations since shepherds were common, it doesn’t matter that we only know about wool from pictures and stories about sheep. Yet even still, this story of sheep and the lost lands close to my heart. It’s up there with Psalm 23 all of the Biblical imagery about the Good Shepherd, this grand metaphor that extends all the way through scripture and even into today.   

In a former incarnation of the priesthood, I taught children Catechesis of the Good Shepherd, both levels 1 and 2. Catechesis is distinct among children’s formation as it’s less about “learning” about God and Church than experiencing God and God’s love. The very young child, little ones that couldn’t yet read, would come and we’d introduce them to these parables of Jesus. There was a whole sequence of stories for the Good Shepherd, a meditation on the Psalm 23, then the Found Sheep, and then once the child has realized that we are the sheep, then Jesus the Good Shepherd. It goes on from there to connect this experience of Jesus the Good Shepherd with our place in church and how we’re fed weekly by Jesus the Good Shepherd at the table of the lamb, the Eucharist. I remember one such little boy, Max, who was overwhelmed with starting school. Everything seemed so big and scary to him, as he was only 4. I’ll never forget the joy that Max knew as he experienced the story of the lost sheep. It didn’t erase his fears; but he could also know what it was like to be found by and to belong to God.   

I don’t know about you, but for me, this week has felt like the opposite of this story. Instead of the Good Shepherd searching for and finding the lost sheep, I feel the fragmentation. A strike on Hamas in Qatar, instability in Nepal, ICE arrests, and the one that has taken so much of the airtime, the assassination of Charlie Kirk. An assassination? The last time there was this much unrest, it was the 60’s. 

I’m feeling lost. The bits and pieces that use to bind us together are eroding. It’s like I’m doing a 1000 piece puzzle not just on the table but on the floor and there is no light. The world is swirling, like when I’m too busy and I’m running to stand still. Being a sheep in God’s fold is the last thing I’m thinking about. I can imagine that this is what Max felt like, far off and forgotten, lost, all alone. 

And it’s not just the news. I know I’m found in the fragments too. My contradictory parts seem even more out of line. It takes energy and wisdom and a whole lot of hard work to bring these seemingly opposite sides together. It also takes time, so much time. Even as it drives me crazy, the adage that “time heals all wounds” shows itself to be true.  

Back in the day, after you’d had your computer a year or two, you got a message – it’s time to defragment your computer. It took a really long time, but you could watch all of the bits coming together, a little like Tetris, lining up one square at a time. Maybe it was the original ASMR experience. Satisfying. Calming. Like cleaning your house, without a broom. It was a visualization of bringing together, instead of separating. 

I wish I could say this is what we’re doing as a society, but I think we’re still in the season of fragmentation, of lostness, of forgetting ourselves, forgetting our common humanity, of division and strife instead of peace and justice, of hatred and enmity instead of love and care, of demonizing and ignorance instead of respecting the dignity of every human being. 

But we’re not left without consolation. 

I’m so glad we’re in the gospel of Luke this year. I’m just so glad, especially this week with all of the news. It’s a week, as President Lincoln said in his inaugural address, for our better angels. This is a week of found coins and sheep, eating with tax collectors and sinners, rejoicing in heaven, and seeing one another as the humans that we are because I’ll tell you what, none of us will ever be lost to God. 

So what to do? What can any of us do or be? How can we let ourselves be found in this climate? 

It begins with letting ourselves be lost. Of course we’re lost. This is part of what it means to be human. No one is ever always found. It’s not our job to do God. We can name it and not be afraid of it. I’m lost right now. I’m lost in work. I’m lost in responsibility. I’m lost in politics. I’m lost with my family. I’m lost in my anger. I’m lost in spirit. I’m lost. And tell someone about it, someone who can bear that burden with you, who can see you, hear you, understand you, someone with empathy and love. I can see a whole lot of people in this congregation who are this kind of trustworthy. They’re the kind who won’t try to fix you, but will sit with you in it. Being lost isn’t even close to the worst thing. And even as it seems contradictory, even as it seems to upend everything we know about power and getting through this impossible time, even as it seems like our weakness, being lost reminds us of our common humanity, our common heritage, our common belovedness. We must face this time with softness and tenderness. We must be the kind that rejoice when a sinner repents, instead of the ones sitting in the judgment seats, grumbling with the scribes and the Pharisees. 

Secondly, we must turn our hearts to love and resist hate with every part of our beings. I don’t say this to excuse my enemies. I don’t say this as one without an enemy, or as one who condones violence, hatred, or sin. In fact, it’s the opposite. Neither am I saying to let yourself or someone you love be a punching bag for someone else’s issues. Violence and injustice bear heavily on our bodies, and these are wounds that all of us will bear for years. Yet we must not stop with condemnation and hatred. Yes to condemnation, no to hatred! Yes to anger, no to hatred! Yes to naming the evil, no to “othering” a human, making them less than what they are. Yes to standing with the weak among us, no to refusing to see the image of God in their eyes, even if it is diminished. We must pray for those who we know are lost. We must pray for our enemies. We must give them each day to God, even though they may be “a stubborn and stiff necked people,” even when our “wrath burns” against them. 

Believe me, I know what this means. I am not a person without enemies. I am one who “took it all” for many years, not realizing what this did to my body or my children’s bodies. I am one who has to work at loving, at forgiving, at not othering. I am one who understands this way too well, who knows the cost both of hating and of forgiving again and again. 

In the gospel of John, Jesus feeds the 5,000 just as he does in the other gospels, but in this gospel, there’s a detail. They collect all of the fragments, all of the bits and pieces of fish and bread, the leftovers! It’s a little like we do on Sundays with the leftover wafers and wine. We put them in the tabernacle, and once every few weeks or so, Diana Sherman comes and fills our Eucharistic kits, the ones that we use to bring communion to those who can’t come to church. None of these fragments are lost – that’s what it says in John’s gospel. None of the bits and pieces of bread and fish are lost, none of the bits and pieces of you or of I are lost. Even as it seems like the pieces are falling everywhere, on the carpet, in the cracks of the floor, on our laps, nothing is lost. It’s only repurposed, ready to be found again by the Good Shepherd, ready to be used for the kin-dom of God when and if we’re ready. 

This is not a “time heals all wounds” moment. This is a “we’re lost and we need God more than ever” moment. This is a time to double down on our love, to read those Baptismal vows daily and then to do them. This is a time to look deeply as we offer the peace of Christ, to surrender to the love of God, to let ourselves be found by the Good Shepherd, and to pray for those who are lost. God even found the Christian hater, Paul. 

None of us will ever be lost to God.

I am lost and I am losing my way and also I am found and am always being found by God.