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LOST and FOUND Perhaps you know these stories well. The lost sheep, and the shepherd who pursues the stray and carries it home on his shoulders. The lost coin, and the frantic woman who sweeps her house to find it. There is one more story as well, the lost son and the father who waits up on him to come home, but for today, we that story we will hold for another time. The lost stories. Only Luke relays them to us, these best-loved stories of Jesus. You won’t find them in the other gospels. Luke tells us the stories to remind us of God’s desire to recover the lost. To remind us of God’s passion for the stray, the lost and the runaway. Tell me, what mental picture comes into your mind when you hear the phrase, “the lost.” Who do you see in your mind’s eye when I say something like, “we must have a heart for the lost.” Who do you think of? Who are the lost? The thief? The addict? The murderer, the rapist, the pedophile? Who’s on your list? Who are the lost? The prostitute? The abortionist? The homosexual? When we talk about the lost, we often act as if we have a common understanding of who we are talking about. Who is it? The pornographer? The wife beater? Or is your list more tame than all that..the lost inclusive of those who do not go to church on Sunday, or who do not read their Bible daily. The lost. If we’re honest, those we might think of as lost, we too often view with either pity or blame. Tsk tsk tsk. Look at her...she’s out carousing around all night on Saturday, no wonder she can’t get herself to church on Sunday. Tsk tsk tsk. Look at him. Spends all his money on beer and lottery tickets--no wonder his wife left him. Tsk tsk tsk. Look at them. How sad. They keep calling the police on one another--one of them’s going to really get hurt one of these days. Tsk tsk tsk. Those poor children...running around terrorizing the neighborhood--where are their parents for crying out loud? You suppose that’s the way some of us in the church tend to look at those we might consider lost? Sort of the way we might look at a table full of garage sale items--as though there might, just might be something worth salvaging, but all in all, mostly junk. The Pharisees and the teachers of the law--Luke remembers how they sort of did the same thing--looked at the lost and wrote them off as just so much junk. These tax collectors and other non-descript sinners who ate with Jesus. To the good folk from the congregation (the Pharisees and teachers of the law) these “sinners” and tax collectors who were welcomed to eat with Jesus were riff raff--and they were repulsed that Jesus would give them the time of day, let alone, eat with them. Now then, here’s the rub. We hear Jesus’ admonish the Pharisees and the Teachers of the law telling them that they should have a real heart for the lost, the way God has a heart for the lost. And many a preacher in the pulpit has taken that and run with it! “Church, where is our passion for the lost! Church, we are here to save the lost.” The trouble is, when we are honest--now I mean when we are truly, honest--we hear that message in the pulpit and many of us begin to think to ourselves, “well, preacher, you go get the lost if you want to, but all in all, they won’t make such good church members. Doubt if they’ll contribute much. Doubt it they’ll help out much. Doubt if they’ll do much more than dirty up the place.” Now then...the problem is...we often think that way because to us, the lost are like the lost were to the Pharisees and the Teachers of the Law. Nothing more than a load of junk. I’ll admit to you, I have struggled with just this issue. Still do, sometimes. But then, God’s word has a way of reminding me that God sees the lost a whole lot differently than I often do. For the lost, to God, are valuable things. Something worth the trouble and effort to find. Someone worth waiting up for. Someone worth running after and carrying home. The lost, are like, well....they’re like a little cub scout I want to tell you about, named Simon. Simon usually went to scouts while his mother finished directing the choir. They both ended about the same time. On the weeks we had a worship meeting after choir, Simon would shoot hoops in the gym or read a book or do homework under the watch of his older sister until their mom was ready to go. One month, we had just settled in for the worship committee when Simon’s big sister came by the room where we were meeting to tell her mother that she couldn’t find Simon. Simon’s mom excused herself with one of those phrases we toss over our shoulder now and then, “good grief, wonder what that boy is up to now.” The older sister returned a short time later. “Mom can’t find Simon either.” Well...needless to say, that ended the meeting. Leaving our calendars and other notes on the table, we all jumped up to join in the search. First, the upper and lower floors of the education building were searched. “Simon!“ Then store rooms. “Simon! Come on out now! Simon!” Then the darkened sanctuary. “Simon! You’re not being funny! Simon!” Eventually, we went out into the darkness to search the 8 acre lot around the church. It was growing later. “Simon!” SIMON!” Some of us began to ring doorbells. “Have you seen a young boy in a cub scout uniform?” “Simon!” He was nowhere to be found. The father was summoned to the church. The worship meeting long forgotten, all we had on our minds was “where could Simon be?” Eventually, a scout leader with a car load of scouts came driving up and parked. Out spilled several uniformed boys, including Simon. It seems, Simon’s parents were the only ones that had not been notified that the scouts would be going to another site to work on a service project that night. Needless to say, that incident brought about several reforms in our church’s procedures for parental notification and consent when it came to children and youth. I tell this story, because you see, we all went after Simon because he was precious to us...valuable. We all had a vested interest in finding him. Because of our love for him and our love for his family. So now, when I want to get my heart focused on just how much God desires to recover a relationship with the lost, I tend not to just think about sheep and about coins. I tend to think of Simon. I tend to think of search parties, spread out across fields when a child has wandered or worse, been snatched away. I tend to think of those moments and days following 9-11 when families showed up at ground zero day after day after day with photos of their loved ones, hoping against hope that the rescue workers might find them for the warm embrace of reunion. I tend to think of a terrifying few minutes when my own daughter, just 3 years old at the time, dissappeared into a large crowd at an arts festival. When I need to reexamine my own attitude toward the lost, I tend to think of how hard we look, how fast our heart beats, how long we search when we have something valuable at stake. That’s how it is, you see. That’s what Jesus was trying to teach the religious folk who were clucking their tongues. That’s how God see’s the lost. That’s how God wants us to see the lost. As simply the most valuable, most desirable, most precious thing there ever was. You see, in the parable, when Jesus talks about the lost, he’s talking about the LOST--those for whom the owner is searching not because they should, but because that which is lost is worth everything to them. Everything. You see, that’s why there is such a party when the lost has been recovered! You get it, don’t you? That’s why there is such a party when the baby is pulled from the well. That’s why there is such a party when the little girl is found in the woods. That’s why there is such a party when three trapped firemen are located underneath the rubble. You understand? That’s why there is such a party when the lost is found. Because the lost wasn’t just a nickel item on a garage sale table. There’s a party, because the most valuable thing there is, has just been found. And when that happens, all you want to do is party! The great preacher Fred Craddock says, “Jesus invites even his critics to join him and all of heaven in celebration of finding the lost. This joy is the heart of the gospel.” Now, I’m the new kid here. But I’ve been seeing this phrase around First United Methodist Church—I’ve seen it in the bulletin, in the Messenger, even on our stationary and my business cards. It’s on our advertising—you know what I’m talking about? The phrase—“A Community of Joy.” Is that who we are? Seems to me, that phrase, “A Community of Joy,” must mean that this community, THIS church is a community of faith where the lost are envisioned as the most valuable and desirable belonging of God. A Community of Joy is one where we are filled with rejoicing when the lost are recovered, the stray returned, the runaway welcomed home. Is that what it means? You tell me. Is that what it means? I hope it is. That we are committed to being a real, community of JOY! That we are interested in recovering what we’ve lost--our ability to see the lost for who they really are--the precious, valuable, and beloved possessions of God! Join me, as a response, reading these words from 1 Timothy, taken today from The Message Bible. This is the way our Savior God wants us to live. He wants not only us but everyone saved, for everyone to get to know the truth we've learned: that there's one God and only one, and one Mediator between God and us--Jesus, who offered himself in exchange for everyone held captive by sin, to set them all free. Eventually the news is going to get out!
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