Finding the Lost

I am the world’s best at losing things. Keys. Purse. Wallet. Don’t even get me started on socks- where do they all go? Jim likes to tell me I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached.

But sometimes what is lost is more serious than socks or keys. In our text today, Jesus tells a parable of a shepherd who loses a sheep and of a woman who loses a silver coin. See when something of great value is lost, everything changes. I remember early on in mine and Jim’s marriage, he lost his wedding ring. He hunted everywhere for it. He searched everywhere in the house. He even got a metal detector and scanned over the yard around the house. So he bought a new one, and then it was lost. This happened a couple of times until it became a joke about what number wedding ring he was on now. Four wedding rings but still the one wife. Years later when we moved from our first home, he found the original in an empty paint can in the garage and you would have thought we won the lottery. There was such excitement.

I remember just a few weeks ago here when Everett’s dog Jack went missing. It was posted and everyone shared and then when he was found, oh my goodness at what wonderful news it was. As the scripture says, when the lost is found, we should gather together with our friends and neighbors to rejoice.

We are all aware of the recent case of Liza Fletcher who was abducted and killed in Memphis. In August of last year, our nation was rocked with the search for Gabby Petito. Today we also remember the 21st anniversary of 9/11 and the loss of 2,977 people, 441 of which were first responders. I remember traveling to New York with my high school marketing class a year or two after and visiting ground zero. Flowers were along the ground and hundreds of photos of missing persons were still posted along the orange plastic fence. Beyond that it was still a mess of fractured earth and rubble, like a giant chasm of loss.

When something valuable is missing, we drop everything and search. We exhaust all resources. We turn over every corner, retrace every last step. Inside of us, there is a deep desire for the lost to be found.

Have you ever been lost? I remember when I was at Kent State and went to visit a friend one weekend. Again, before GPS. So they gave me directions and I wrote them down and was able to get to her house just fine. But on the way back, something happened. I missed a turn or an exit and suddenly was surrounded by unfamiliar scenery. I kept trying to find a place to turn around but the road just kept winding. My phone had died and there was no way to charge it in my car. I began to panic. I finally found a place to pull over and ask for directions. “Can you please tell me where I am? Can you please tell me how to get back?” I was lost.

Maybe you haven’t lost your sense of direction, but you have lost other things: your spirit, your joy, your sense of identity, your faithfulness, your purpose, or your ability to cope. Maybe you too look around and seem to find your own life in what looks like unfamiliar territory and you’re going “where am I?”

Sometimes life can feel like it’s own game of hide and seek. Think about when you played it when you were young. When you are little, there is such a deep joy in being found. The hiding place isn’t as important as the excitement in being found. Adalyn will throw a blanket over her head and feel completely invisible. Then she will squeal when we find her. And if we go too long without finding her, she starts yelling out letting us know, because she wants to be found.

But somehow as we get older, the game becomes more about finding the best hiding spot. We delight when we trick the seeker, when they can’t find us. I remember one time zipping myself up in a suitcase (I definitely still couldn’t pull that off), and I was so proud of myself that I couldn’t be found.

And so we become better at hiding, better at staying hidden, better at keeping parts of ourselves from God until suddenly we look around and wonder “where am I? Am I beyond being found? Is anyone even looking for me anymore?” Sometimes we feel beyond being found. I have lost family recently who felt that way. I have had friends who have died because they thought they were beyond being found.

But please hear this. Even when we can’t locate ourselves, God is always able to locate us. Even when we are lost, we are still found in God. Just sit with that a moment. You are never beyond being found in God. There is never a place you can possibly go that God cannot find you. I don’t care how good you are at hiding, God is always better at finding. The Creator will always seek his creation. The shepherd will always seek his sheep, take it upon his shoulders, and carry it home.

For Christ began his ministry in saying, “I have come to seek and to save the lost.” That is the ministry of Christ, and therefore it is also the ministry of the church. There is a man by the name of Gregory Boyle who is a Jesuit priest and served as the pastor of Delores Mission Church in LA during the latter 80’s and early 90’s. During that time, it was the poorest Catholic parish in Los Angeles and surrounded by the highest concentration of gang activity.

During Father Boyle’s time there, the church became a hangout for gang members, undocumented immigrants, and those experiencing homelessness. One day a former member drove up to the church and looked at the lot of people outside and within and said to Father Boyle, “you know, this used to be a church.” Father Boyle looked back at this former church member and said,“you know, some people think this is finally a church.”

The church is called to seek out those whom no one else is looking for or looking after. No matter how good everyone else is at hiding, the church should be even better at finding, inviting, sheltering, and rejoicing like crazy when even one is found. If only we could set aside our mouths full of judgment to make room for joy. Christ calls us to “Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.” We are to share with our friends and our neighbors. And it isn’t just our rejoicing. We share together in joining with the joy of heaven.

When I was at Annual Conference this summer, during opening worship they began to sing a song you may have heard from the musical Dear Evan Hansen entitled “You Will Be Found.” There from all across the state, from all different opinions and places, we gathered together and sang:

“Even when the dark comes crashin' through When you need someone to carry you When you're broken on the ground You will be found! So when the sun comes streaming in 'Cause you'll reach up and you'll rise again If you only look around You will be found”

Tears streamed down our faces. Joy was shared. As it turns out, all is not lost after all. As it turns out, we are found in the arms of God.