Pentecost 16 (9/16/07): “The God Who Finds Us”

Text: Luke 15.1-10

Today, September 16, is on the church calendar the commemoration of Cyprian, a third century North African bishop. Cyprian is an important figure for many reasons, but one of them is the way he helped the church come to terms with what it means that Jesus welcomes sinners.

The church had just gone through a period of great persecution. The Roman government demanded that everyone offer sacrifice to the Roman gods, and of course Christians could not do this. But there were some who, in fear for their life, renounced their faith and sacrificed to the Roman gods. After this period of persecution had passed, many of these people asked to be forgiven and readmitted to the church. There were some—often people who had themselves been very courageous in the face of death or torture—who believed that what these others had done was unforgivable. But Cyprian, the kindly and pastoral bishop, insisted that those who were truly penitent could be reconciled and welcomed back into the church. He thereby helped the church recognize that, as our gospel lesson puts it, the Lord “welcomes sinners,” and none of us is beyond the reach of his great love.

In today’s gospel, of course, it is the Pharisees and scribes who grumble about Jesus’ propensity to welcome sinners. Jesus offers two familiar parables in response—parables which teach us one important thing about ourselves, and two important things about God.

First, about ourselves. These parables teach us that we, in fact, are lost. Now that’s not a comfortable thing to learn. That’s why we usually read these parables and focus what they say about Christ—that he searches out the lost. Well, we’ll get to that soon enough. We’re starting with us. The parables teach us that we are lost.

Well, let me speak for myself: I’m lost. Don’t like to admit it out loud, but I do so every week just the same, and so do you—we say “we confess we are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves,” or words to that effect. That’s what being lost means. And it’s how we are.

There was once a prosperous executive whose work required so much travel that he bought a plane and got a pilot’s license. After a few years he decided to purchase a pontoon plane so he could fly back and forth to his summer home on the lake. On his first flight in the new plane, he started to head for the airport landing strip, as he had always done. His wife was with him, and she realized what he was doing. “Pull up, George! You can’t land on the runway, you have pontoons, not wheels!”

The man quickly hit the throttle and veered toward the lake. As he landed safely on the water, he shook his head. “I don’t know where my mind was. I just wasn’t thinking. That’s about the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.” Then he opened the door and stepped out into the lake!

Well, it is important for us to keep in mind just where we are, who we are, and what our condition is. And our condition, according to these parables, is lost. A prayer from the Anglican Book of Common Prayer comes to my mind: “We have erred and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep. We have followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts. We have left undone those things which we ought to have done; and we have done those things which we ought not to have done; and there is no health in us.” Beautiful language, but it boils down to this: we are lost.

And even when we have been born again in the waters of baptism, even when we sing, “I once was lost but now I’m found,” even then we are, in a very important sense, still lost. It is as Luther said—we are at the same time justified and yet sinners. Unless we understand that to be our condition, our situation, we haven’t come to terms with what is reality for us. We are lost, like a lost coin, a lost sheep.

That’s what the parables say about us. What do they say about God? Two things. First, that God is gracious. It is by his grace that he searches for us and finds us. You know, the next parable Jesus tells in this chapter is that of the Prodigal Son, and we love that so much. But there is a sense in which these two little parables are even better. In the Prodigal Son story, the son “comes to his senses” and returns home. He takes the initiative. But here, with the Lost Coin and the Lost Sheep, the initiative is completely taken by the one who seeks. Robert Farrar Capon puts it this way: “The entire cause of the recovery operation in both stories is the shepherd’s, or the woman’s, determination to find the lost. Neither the lost sheep nor the lost coin does a blessed thing except hang around in its lostness.”

Now that is something wonderful to notice! It is like us, like what we say about ourselves being “in bondage to sin,” unable to free ourselves! This lost sheep, this lost coin, are just lost—they cannot find the way home like the Prodigal Son, they cannot even cry out for help. Like us, they may not even notice that they’re lost. Everything for them depends on being sought. If the woman, if the shepherd, doesn’t take the initiative to seek, then there is no hope of being found.

But the woman and the shepherd do seek! And so does God. “Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners,” Paul writes, “of whom I am the foremost.” There’s nothing here of “Pull yourself up by your bootstraps, and God will give you hand”; nothing even of “I will arise and go to my Father and say, ‘Father, I have sinned.’“ There is nothing here but sheer, absolute, unconditional grace that says “God seeks for the lost” and “Christ welcomes sinners.”

One of my favorite poems—you’ve probably heard me quote it before—is an anonymous verse:

I sought the Lord, and afterward I knew

He moved my soul to seek him, seeking me.

It was not I that found, O Savior true,

No, I was found by thee.

The Lord is gracious. He seeks for the lost, and he finds us.

But there is something else here about God, as well. “There is more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over 99 righteous people who need no repentance.” Joy in heaven! In both parables, the note of joy is loud and clear. The woman rejoices with her friends over finding her coin; the shepherd throws a party to celebrate the found sheep.

Dr. Yoshiro Ishida is an international Lutheran leader. He has been a teacher, pastor, church and college administrator. A few years ago Dr. Ishida was asked how he, a Japanese boy raised in a Buddhist family, had become a Christian. He told the story. He had been a very devout Buddhist who spent many hours in the Temple seeking God. One day he happened to come upon a Christian Bible, and he began to read. It was a whole new world for him. He couldn’t make much sense of it. Then he came to Luke 15. It was the joy of God that spoke to him. “My heart was caught with the fact that the parables portrayed the joy of God,” he said. He recalled the verse about joy in heaven over one sinner who repents. “I couldn’t believe it,” he continued. “I always thought we need to get right with God. That’s what I was trying to do at the Buddhist temple. But the Bible talked about a God who needs to save us, and a God who, when he finds us, is filled with joy! ‘What a strange God this is!’ I thought to myself. God is overjoyed with finding just one person. I found this new. I had never heard of such a thing. It meant that God was concerned with me. With me! Just one person! And God is filled with joy at finding me! To this very day,” he concluded, “that is to me what the gospel of Jesus Christ is all about.”

A God who is filled with joy when he finds us. Yes, that is a strange God—this God who seeks for us lost sheep, and who rejoices when he finds us!

“This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” Yes, and he welcomes you, if you are lost, if you are a sinner, he seeks you out, and when he finds you, welcomes you to his Table. He not only seeks you out and welcomes you, but he rejoices!

Copyright 2007 Richard O. Johnson. All rights reserved.