Counting In God’s Way
Irritation, confusion. The inner dialogue of how stupid could I be? You look and look, you look frantically , you look carefully. You examine your mind, you back track, you ask questions, but experience suggests the harder you look, the more you won’t find it. Sometime last year I lost this ring. It is what I consider to be my clergy-hood ring. I’ve worn it on my finger as I lifted the gospel book, it clanks against chalices, I imagine that it is strengthened with the waters of baptism. It’s not a particularly expensive ring, but to me it matters deeply. And suddenly I couldn’t find it. Nine times out of ten, it goes into the same jewelry box drawer where I keep my collars: but it wasn’t there. It wasn’t on an end table . It wasn’t by a sink. It didn’t seem to have been placed in any place brilliant or ridiculous. After a few days I had given up. I did a reverse image search on Google. I was able to find some replacements, and learned it was made by an artist in Israel. I went up to Macy’s to learn what size my finger is. And I ordered a new one. I was sad, but also relieved that my hand wouldn’t feel as empty on a coming Sunday. And then, not 20 minutes after I had ordered the replacement, I found the original. (Holy Spirit sure is a trickster sometimes.) It was under my shoes! A little bit of Cinderella, a whole lot of overflowing joy.
Many of Jesus’s teachings and parables take a bit of assistance to get into. Most of us are not experts on ancient agricultural practices. However the second parable today is ready and waiting, a wide open door to everyone from the age of 3 to 93: because no one makes it through life without losing something moderately important. Whether it’s the action figure, or a coin, or your car keys – we have all been there. My ring didn’t lose itself, that coin didn’t lose itself. This isn’t the widow with little to live on, it’s a woman of hearty means and she has lost well, let’s call it a hundred dollar bill. She went about wholeheartedly seeking to resolve the problem. and she did find the coin. She finds this monetary amount that was lost ,and then she throws a feast that probably cost more than the value of that lost coin. She does it to celebrate relationships, to echo God’s delight. It is a story of generosity overflowing, loving kindness that counts and shares beyond measure is a core Christian virtue that isn’t about funds. It is the kind of love that Jesus invites us into. However, this extraordinary kindness is one that is rejoicing, because it has known grief. Sometimes when I read this parable I think I oh, that’s so silly. Who would go to that party? But then I realize if it was someone I cared for, sure I would go to that party, because it’s a party, and the chance to celebrate with someone I love.
It’s important that the lost coin is paired with the lost sheep. It’s crucial because very easily we read other experiences of God in Christ into this parable. We hear Psalm 23, and the King of love my shepherd is Jesus saying: I am the Good Shepherd. It is part of the tradition, we teach it that way in Godly Play. It is that, yes, and.. it isn’t exactly what the specific text shares. This parable isn’t talking about a shepherd. It is talking about the owner of the sheep who lost the sheep. This isn’t the Poky Little Puppy, it is not Peter Rabbit. The parable doesn’t suggest that the agency of the critter lost itself. Nope. The owner did it.
We like to look for simple allegories in parables and that’s usually a fool’s errand. We try to play match games with …well.. this character is like God, and this character is like Jesus, and this character is good, and this character is bad and on and on we go. Yet in this text the sheep owner shouldn’t be aligned with God because God can’t lose us. We can get ourselves lost, many do, But God doesn’t lose us. We are precious, but we are not coins.
Things go missing. intentionally or unintentionally sometimes we find them sometimes we don’t. In some ways this lesson is inspiring in us that holy value of non-possession, and reminding us that it all goes back to God in the end. Lost relationships are much harder. Maybe you lost them or they lost you, or it could be both or neither. Whether you know why, or you don’t, whether you’re tried to search and find and it’s still gone, lost friendships can bring confusion, a space of self-doubt and frustration, some of those same feelings that show up when you lost that thing. You can’t make someone else’s attachment connect again, or maybe you can, but to do so with consent and dignity is beyond our own doing. Bringing these occasions to prayer are not about asking a genie to fix the situation. Connecting with God in these moments of lostness is putting ourselves in the flow of the deepest reality, one that knows both sorrow and rejoicing. And bringing the spaces of distance and lostness to God leads us to his celebration.
Did you notice how often the idea of counting is present in this lesson? Do you remember Jesus saying how God counts every hair on your head? Do you remember the question to start this reply? It is a question about who is in, and who is out, the question is about who counts. It’s a lawn dart flying at Jesus from a place that we all find ourselves in; modes of thought and systems of ‘order’ that put philosophical decoupage over selfish evils. Jesus’ is life death and resurrection are salvific because of how he shows us the way of repentance and hope that rescues us from dehumanizing falsehood. And then says: now do the same for the person behind you. Yeah, the one sheep is really important – but the whole flock is the point.
WWJD? He Counts it all. Who should you invite to dinner? The last, the least, the lost, and the lonely. What should you do when a treasure is missing: go and try to find it, bring it home if you can, and either way, throw it a party. These parables should reassess all of our prejudices and our community norms to see if our purse is full and to know when they’re in line with the sacred ethics of mercy, loving-kindness, and justice for the whole. This is the way of Jesus – the way of love. Like finding that coin, it takes intention and attention. It also asks that we let go of the frantic, to find the delight.