What They Never Taught You in Sheep-herding School1
9-16-07
Last Sunday started off in a rush. After hitting my snooze button 4 times, I realized what day it was, raced around the house, cramming in 1½ hours worth of preparation into 45 minutes. I was pulling our Ministry Faire Boards at the last minute, and printing off my sermon. I was feeling quite impressed with myself when it was time to leave for church. But of course, my car keys grew legs overnight and disappeared! I searched pockets, coat pockets, pant pockets, bag pockets. I checked my desk, my car, my gym bag, the table by the front door, the kitchen and bathroom counters. I checked under papers, even under the cushions of my favorite place to sit. I finally threw up my hands, chocked back the tears, looked at my dog, and said, "Layla, I’ve done lost my keys." She licked me, I was close to tears, worried about what time it was, and I went to get a glass of water. And lo and behold, as I opened the fridge door, sitting on the top shelf, between the pickles and the orange juice, were those clever car keys. I’m sure none of you have ever had keys hide in the refrigerator have you?
We’ve all lost things before. (If you haven’t I would like to chat with you after service.) Some of the items that we have lost were misplaced, some were accidentally set down, and some were dropped unknowingly. Some things have ended up in the "lost and found" boxes in places we don’t even remember going to. Then there are the things that end up in our coat pockets that we find weeks, months, and even years later! (It is fantastic when we find money!)
I think it is because we have all lost things, that we can safely say that we know a little about the emotions that Jesus is describing in our two parables this morning. We know the panicked search that doesn’t end until what was lost is found. Has anyone ever searched for a child in a park or grocery store? A paycheck in a bag or book or pocket? A pet in an overwhelmingly large neighborhood? And when we find what’s been lost, we know about the relief that calms our anxiety, the joy that fills the moment…the "Oh, thank god moments."
Jesus tells us two short stories. The first is about a shepherd, who discovers that something is missing. It’s evening, his feet are tired. He wants to lie down and sleep. You know the feeling; you can’t handle one more thing before your head hits the pillow. But, as part of his job, he’s counting sheep through his heavy eyelids. He counts once. He is tired so he counts again. He comes up one short. Now, these days we might think that one sheep missing would really be no big deal; unfortunate, but not critical. If you have 100 sheep one less is less food and work for you. One sheep doesn’t start a car, help us see, pay the bills, or even appreciate us when they are found. Ninety-nine are still hanging around. That is an excellent percentage! What’s one sheep? A 1% loss; is easily absorbed in most cases. Who among us would lose lots of sleep over a dumb sheep who should have stayed with the flock in the first place; who should have just said "no", been more careful, listened to her parents, finished school, stayed in church.
Now, this is not the first time we have talked about the intelligence of sheep in a worship service. True or false: sheep are very intelligent animals? Sheep don’t fetch the paper, chase stray cats, kill mice, or bark at strangers. They need constant supervision. Any shepherd knows that you shouldn’t leave your flock to find one stray sheep. To do so would leave the rest of the flock leaderless and vulnerable to predators. Yet, the gospel is unlike any other book. This parable is like a movie moment, that moment when one person starts dancing in the streets and everyone joins in and knows all the steps. We have a shepherd who pursues one wayward, lonely sheep, and upon finding it heaves it on his shoulders, carries it home. And then he sends out a bunch of Hallmark invitations cards with a picture of a sheep and when you open it up, out pops a shepherd inviting you to a found sheep celebration! His celebration far exceeds the importance of the find. There is no sheep in all of God’s green earth that is worth throwing a party for.
The second story is just as bizarre. A woman loses a coin, worth very little, and she drops everything in order to recover the loss. Imagine taking a day off of work to find a penny. God as cleaning lady, rolls up her sleeves, leaves the bucket and cloth in search for one measly coin. Can you see her, gently studying the floor, on her hands and knees looking behind the bookcase, checking the coat pocket, looking through the dust bunnies under the bed, and digging her hands in the couch cushions? Maybe she should try the refrigerator next? After a long, tiresome search she finds what she is looking for, and, very happy, she calls her neighbors and friends over for a celebration…for a coin. The cookies she baked cost more than that!
Both stories are straightforward: the parties cost more than the value of what was found. We don’t throw parties for pennies found, keys found, glasses found, checkbooks found; relieved we usually go about our days. And how dare Jesus liken God to a shepherd, which is about as despised as a cleaning woman. Tax Collectors and sinners, and likening God to those in society who are unworthy of such an association? How in the world can such a shepherd and cleaning lady mirror God to us?
Jesus is talking about a search that goes beyond missing pets, livestock, persons, or possessions. I’m guessing you have probably caught on to this by now. God the good Shepherd, God the lady who searches for her coin, God the father who welcomes home his prodigal son, delights in finding the lost. God finds great pleasure when the lost are found, when the broken are healed, when the alienated are reconciled, when the sick are made well, when those who are spiritually and emotionally dead are made alive, when the oppressed are lifted up, when the prisoner is released, and when the humble have been exalted.
You know, sheep aren’t noted for searching diligently for their shepherd when they get lost. Sheep don’t go on some long journey to find their god-shaped shepherd. All lost sheep can do is bleat. All coins can do is collect dust. But finding lost things is God’s cup of tea. And when lost sheep, coins, and prodigals are found, our great Shepherd sends out the cheesiest Hallmark invitations, inviting the community to celebrate.
I think that its possible to sing in the choir, serve on a ministry team, come to church gatherings, be liturgists, and yet be very alone, very lost. Being lost doesn’t merely mean addiction, atheism, poor relationships, or confusion in class. I think we have all felt lost…we’ve had a loss of direction in life, loss of words in an awkward moment, loss of security and self-worth in rejection, loss of hope in bleakness, loss of love in weakness. I think we all know that there is also a lost-ness that has nothing to do with geography. This is the sort of lost-ness that says, "I’ve lost control of my family, I’ve lost control of my job, I’ve lost control of my emotions, I’ve lost control of my body, I’ve lost control my life!" What we lose is the illusion that we were ever in control of our lives. We have felt lost, Godless, empty.
So what do we do when we are lost? Sometimes all we can do is bleat like a sheep, lie like a coin. Get found. But through the encouragement of community, the Spirit received in prayer, the resentment felt in restlessness, the understanding of Jesus resurrection, God puts us on God’s strong shoulders, rejoicing and brings us home. And once we’re home, we find that we can look upon other lost ones with a new sensitivity.
These parables are for any of us who have ever felt beat-up and burnt out. This story is for the wobbly and weak kneed who know, and yes sometimes even acknowledge, that they don’t have it together. These parables are for the rest of us who know that it is by grace that we are loved, or should we say, found. And don’t forget the rest of the message! When we share in God’s joy, it empowers and strengthens us to continue in the work of reconciliation, the "searching-for" enterprise described in these two parables. Being found encourages us to join in the search, or, at the very least, to come to the party and bring cookies.
When I was a little girl I had a stuffed dog I named Happy. Happy went everywhere with me. One of his ears eventually ripped off, stuffing was coming out, his color faded, he had juice stains on his body. I loved that stuffed animal. I remember the day I lost him in a large grocery store. Our searched commenced after I broke down into tears of panic. My mom even had them announce my lost animal over the intercom, "his name is Happy," I remember the clerk saying. I laughed out loud when I thought of Happy this week. Ripped ear, stuffing missing, faded color, juice stains, and lost!!!! Named Happy? It seemed fitting that his name was Happy, because even with all of those things wrong with him, I still wanted him, I was worried about him, I was searching diligently for him, and was doing everything to get him back in my chubby arms safely. If he were alive, how lucky and happy he would be.
My friends, aren’t you and I lucky? Jesus told a story about a shepherd who
got home with 99 of 100 sheep. One lost sheep isn’t bad. We would probably be
satisfied with that but the shepherd wasn’t. You see, God’s mathematics are
different from ours, and that’s incredibly good news. Somebody still wants us.
Somebody is searching diligently for us. Someone is trying to get us back home
safely. I say, any excuse for a party! Let us be open, and let us become people
of outrageous, expensive, reckless joy. Amen.
1 Thank You to Rev. Thomas Hall, for insights received from a sermon by the same title, What They Didn’t teach You at Sheepherding School, Sept. 2004.