Lost and Found

I've never really seen the show, except for that one time I caught a bit of it while channel surfing. I'm sure it's a very good show and that I would probably like it if I invested myself into it. It has happened with other well-written shows.

In the last two weeks, much has been lost in our church. Two dearly loved servants of the church; quiet servants making bold impacts in the lives around them, yet no longer in the kitchen to help pour tea at potlucks. Another dear woman lost her memory, confused and angry that her family would take her to receive the care she doesn't know she needs. Yet another losing her appetite due to cancer treatment. All of us, losing another moment... and another... and another... as time slowly plods (or races swiftly by).

The coin. The sheep. The son. Life is turned upside down to find that which is lost. But getting lost can be so much better. Getting lost in a television show, in one's own political opinions, in the heat of the moment, are all much better than being challenged to do what is right or be a good steward or serve someone other than ourselves.

But being found means someone bothered to do the looking. Being found means we're reinvested, part of the flock again, a restored child that has to go back to doing the chores. The object in question (time, coin, sheep, son, et al.) must have some value to the Finder.

What if we too become finders, recovering lost time, finding time to rescue dying relationships, finding a space to meet God daily, finding the courage to run out to greet grace, finding the resolve to restore a sense of purpose to waking-up every morning. Our lives can be spent either way: either in losing or in finding. And only one of them leads to rejoicing.

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So he told them this parable: "Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.' Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.

Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.' Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents."

Then Jesus said, "There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger of them said to his father, 'Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.' So he divided his property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living.... But when he came to himself he said, 'How many of my father's hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands." ' So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him....."

Luke 15:3-21

Simple Gifts

Bold voices sang the National Anthem to conclude the ceremonies. As they did so, the wind blew outside. The American flag which hung out of sight outside the window where I was, fluttered into view, as if those chest-fulls of air were blowing down the Blue Ridge Mountains and into Floyd. The winds of change indeed.

30 minutes before, tremendously talented musicians such as Itzhak Pearlman and Yo-yo Ma played John Williams' arrangement of the old hymn, "Simple Gifts." Watching their fingers defy the bone-numbing chill, I found it ironic that it would require more than simple skills to play the extremely difficult music well.

And yet that seemed to be the theme: simple gifts into grand designs. A black man with humble beginnings writes the pages of history that will never be forgotten. Those singers, musicians, pastors and poets, their pneuma-blown gifts faithfully to transform a wintery day into a historic moment. It all began somewhere for them. And it does for us.

"To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good." (1st Corinthians 12:7). History-changing days are born from simple beginnings. We might not make national news, but we could see the world around us transformed if we might take our simple gifts and use them well.