The Lost
This week is on Luke 15:3-7:
The rejoicing that takes place over the lost begins when they're rescued. It's not the fact that they're lost that's a cause for celebration, but the fact that they've been found and retrieved. It's almost worth them being lost just to find them and have them back again. I say almost, because if it was worth it, we'd be trying to lose things all the time just to experience finding them again!
Jesus doesn't celebrate the sheep being lost. He isn't all like "Finally, one of those stinking hairy animals is gone! Ninety nine to go!" He notices the loss. Not only does he notice it, but he's compelled to seek the lost sheep out and bring it back. He isn't complacent. He doesn't figure "Ahh well, that sheep probably wanted something I wasn't providing, so he'll find it eventually. Good for him." The sheep thinks he's doing himself a favor, but really all he's doing is putting himself out where the wolves and lions can get at him.
When he finds the sheep, he doesn't just bring it some food and leave it where it is. He doesn't go back to his friends and say "I have found my lost sheep. He's in the ravine. Rejoice with me." He grabs the sheep and brings him back to safety. How else could it be a victory? It's not information that is needed, but a rescue. The shepherd is celebrating a victory over loss, snatching his treasure from the mouths of lions. He's not celebrating the act of running away. He's not celebrating the sheep who need no rescue, who never were in danger in the first place. He's cheated death!
In being "lost" we don't naturally realize that Jesus doesn't come to us just to announce himself or keep an eye on us. He comes to call us and rescue us. He arrives on a mission. In becoming like him, in demonstrating his kingdom, we may find ourselves in the same mindset. Do we just want to see the lost, maybe socialize with them, or do we want to drag them to safety? It's a different thing to want to see someone saved than it is to just want to see them.
As under-shepherds, when the master shepherd says "Hey, there's a sheep in the ravine, can you go rescue him?" how do we respond? Do we go and take a survival course first, maybe buy some maps of the area, and some fancy gear, and then go get him? Or do we just go and get him? How urgent is it to us? Do we go, see the sheep, bring him a meal or two, cut his hair, and leave him, feeling good about ourselves? There's a beautiful directness about what Jesus does, that I think is lost in our modern hive of specialization. If his call is valid, we should be able to answer it ourselves. And if it's urgent, we must answer it.
It's funny that these things would be common sense to a primitive culture thousands of years ago. People knew about community, and about danger, and about bravery and adventure, and now we just watch those things on TV. If someone is in trouble, you rescue them. Let nothing stop you. Even the most religiously devout sabbath-keepers would violate the sabbath to rescue a lost animal. Nowadays we assume someone else will take care of it, preferably with a uniform or a fancy degree. But what if Jesus is calling us?
Think about being the sheep. Why do we wander? What do we expect to find? What would we want from the shepherd, once we realize we've gone too far out? Are we alone in that? Is being lost something worth looking down on? Is it something to encourage? Or do we secretly want to be found after all?
And think about being the shepherd. Are we willing to be direct? Are we willing to go into danger to bring people out of it? Do we care enough about getting the sheep to safety to do that? Will someone else go in our place? If Jesus calls us, should we let someone else take our place? Isn't it easier to just keep feeding the ninety nine safe sheep, and forget about the one? Or maybe shepherding isn't exactly like running a business with its acceptable losses.
If we meditate on these things, we'll be better Christians and better understand the mind of Christ.
Then Jesus told them this parable: "Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent."
The rejoicing that takes place over the lost begins when they're rescued. It's not the fact that they're lost that's a cause for celebration, but the fact that they've been found and retrieved. It's almost worth them being lost just to find them and have them back again. I say almost, because if it was worth it, we'd be trying to lose things all the time just to experience finding them again!
Jesus doesn't celebrate the sheep being lost. He isn't all like "Finally, one of those stinking hairy animals is gone! Ninety nine to go!" He notices the loss. Not only does he notice it, but he's compelled to seek the lost sheep out and bring it back. He isn't complacent. He doesn't figure "Ahh well, that sheep probably wanted something I wasn't providing, so he'll find it eventually. Good for him." The sheep thinks he's doing himself a favor, but really all he's doing is putting himself out where the wolves and lions can get at him.
When he finds the sheep, he doesn't just bring it some food and leave it where it is. He doesn't go back to his friends and say "I have found my lost sheep. He's in the ravine. Rejoice with me." He grabs the sheep and brings him back to safety. How else could it be a victory? It's not information that is needed, but a rescue. The shepherd is celebrating a victory over loss, snatching his treasure from the mouths of lions. He's not celebrating the act of running away. He's not celebrating the sheep who need no rescue, who never were in danger in the first place. He's cheated death!
In being "lost" we don't naturally realize that Jesus doesn't come to us just to announce himself or keep an eye on us. He comes to call us and rescue us. He arrives on a mission. In becoming like him, in demonstrating his kingdom, we may find ourselves in the same mindset. Do we just want to see the lost, maybe socialize with them, or do we want to drag them to safety? It's a different thing to want to see someone saved than it is to just want to see them.
As under-shepherds, when the master shepherd says "Hey, there's a sheep in the ravine, can you go rescue him?" how do we respond? Do we go and take a survival course first, maybe buy some maps of the area, and some fancy gear, and then go get him? Or do we just go and get him? How urgent is it to us? Do we go, see the sheep, bring him a meal or two, cut his hair, and leave him, feeling good about ourselves? There's a beautiful directness about what Jesus does, that I think is lost in our modern hive of specialization. If his call is valid, we should be able to answer it ourselves. And if it's urgent, we must answer it.
It's funny that these things would be common sense to a primitive culture thousands of years ago. People knew about community, and about danger, and about bravery and adventure, and now we just watch those things on TV. If someone is in trouble, you rescue them. Let nothing stop you. Even the most religiously devout sabbath-keepers would violate the sabbath to rescue a lost animal. Nowadays we assume someone else will take care of it, preferably with a uniform or a fancy degree. But what if Jesus is calling us?
Think about being the sheep. Why do we wander? What do we expect to find? What would we want from the shepherd, once we realize we've gone too far out? Are we alone in that? Is being lost something worth looking down on? Is it something to encourage? Or do we secretly want to be found after all?
And think about being the shepherd. Are we willing to be direct? Are we willing to go into danger to bring people out of it? Do we care enough about getting the sheep to safety to do that? Will someone else go in our place? If Jesus calls us, should we let someone else take our place? Isn't it easier to just keep feeding the ninety nine safe sheep, and forget about the one? Or maybe shepherding isn't exactly like running a business with its acceptable losses.
If we meditate on these things, we'll be better Christians and better understand the mind of Christ.
Comments
Post a Comment