Get Found
Luke 15:1–10
September 16, 2007
University Christian Church, Seattle, WA
Rev. Sandy Messick

I. Remember playing hide and seek as a kid? It’s that game that always begins with an argument about who’s “not it.” But someone always has to be it, and it’s their job to seek out and find all the rest.

A. Very young children love to play the game: and they are very easy to find. Very young children believe that if they can’t see you, you can’t see them. So they just close their eyes and pretend to be invisible.

B. When they get a little older, they’re still easy to find. They’re not very imaginative about hiding places, so they hide in either the last place they hid, or the last place you hid when it was your turn to hide.

C. But as they grow, so grows their ability to hide, until one day they’ve hidden too well. Robert Fulghum tells the story of sitting in his study listening to the neighbor children playing Hide and Seek. One of the children is outside his window, hiding under a pile of leaves. But eventually the voices of children fade and Fulghum realizes that the child is still hiding under the pile of leaves, only everyone else has been found and no one is looking for him anymore. In an effort to be helpful, Fulghum leans out his window and shouts at the pile of leaves, “Get found, kid!” which startles the child enough he jumps up, scattering leaves, and runs off quickly for home.

II. Unfortunately, as we grow to adulthood, we stop playing hide and seek for fun, and start playing it for real.

A. Sometimes we hide in plain sight: in our jobs at the expense of our family, in drugs or alcohol at the expense of our self respect, in our preoccupation with things at the expense of our souls. We hide from others and avoid deepening relationships. Or we hide from ourselves and deny the truest parts of ourselves. Sometimes we even try hiding from God, as if we are little children once again, closing our eyes and imagining that if we can’t see God, God can’t see us either.

B. And then we wake up one morning and we not only aren’t sure where we’re going, but can’t figure out where we are, or why, or how to get back. We’ve hidden too well, and we’re deathly afraid everyone’s stopped looking for us. The game has gone on without us. And we are well and truly lost. Sometimes still in plain sight.

c. Anna Murdock tells the story of a church she attended where the pastor was using this same scripture, the story of the lost sheep and the lost coin. For the children’s time, the pastor divided the children into two groups: One group, including the pastor, were the Good Shepherds. The other group were the sheep. The sheep were told to hide and the shepherds went hunting for them. All went well, and the message seemed clear, and the children went off to Children’s Church and the service went on as usual. Until, sometime later, a small, frightened voice was heard calling out from some hidden spot, “I’m still lost.” A child, who hadn’t been found. She ends the story by remembering a time in her life when she sat in the pew, Sunday after Sunday, crying out silently, “I’m still lost.” How many of the lost sheep are sitting in our midst today.

III. Jesus reminds us of the good news: God never gives up. God never stops looking for the lost sheep. He uses images familiar to his listeners: God is like a shepherd who lost one sheep. Just one. Out of a flock of 100 hundred sheep, 1% has gone missing. But even that margin of loss is too great for the shepherd. And so he goes out seeking. Searching. Unfailingly, without pause, the shepherd hunts until the lost sheep is found.

And then again: God is like a woman; a woman who loses a coin. She still has 9 in her hot little hand, but she misses the one. And so she sets about looking. Seeking, searching, unfailingly without pause, the woman looks and looks until the lost coin is found.

And oh, when the sheep and the coin are found, such rejoicing there is. As if that sheep and that coin were the most precious commodity in the world. To the undiscerning eye, nothing of particularly great value. But in the eyes of God, infinitely worth the time and effort of the search.

III. And so God searches for us. When we’ve hidden too well and can’t find our way back, God searches for us. Not that God will drag us back kicking and screaming. Oh no, never that. God always leaves open our ability to choose not to be found. That’s what free will is after all. But that doesn’t mean God will ever give up the search. Always ready to find us as often as we’re ready to be found.

IV. Barbara Brown Taylor a noted preacher, tells the story of a group of hikers taking a 10-day trek through the Smoky Mountains. As they soon discovered, not all walkers are created equal. Some fast, and some determined to bring up the rear. In this group, the straggler was a woman named Pat. She tended to keep to herself as she lagged behind, which was just as well because she was a complainer. She complained about the hike, about the weather, about the food, about the campsites. On the third day, after a particularly stressful hike, the group arrived at the campsite late, after dark, and in the rain. After a quick glance around, they realized that Pat wasn’t with them. In fact, she hadn’t been seen since earlier in the day when she had thrown rocks at the person assigned to stay with her, ordering him to leave her alone. Armed with flashlights, a thermos of hot soup, and an extra jacket, the group leaders headed back down the trail to find Pat. Everyone else milled around, making small talk, and trying their best not to think about what it would be like to be lost in the wilderness.

Around midnight, the leaders came back with a very tired, very relieved Pat. The group rejoiced around her, giving her hot chocolate and oatmeal cookies. No one asked if she’d be nicer from then on. No one asked if she’d learned her lesson. But the truth was, she did seem changed. Not drastically. Not a sudden conversion. But a little less caustic, a little more likeable. Rev. Taylor writes: Maybe it was getting lost that changed her. . but then again, maybe it was being found that did the trick.

V. Are you lost? Have you learned to play hide and seek a bit too well? The maybe it’s time to get found. Hear again the good news: God never gives up and never stops looking. But perhaps, at this moment, you’re not feeling lost. Perhaps you are one of the 99, relatively safe in the fold. In that case, perhaps it’s time to go looking for those who are still missing. Could we be the ones called to seek on the shepherd’s behalf? Could we be the ones called to venture forth beyond these walls, and within this very crowd, to find the lost and bring them home. What if your pastor announced that she was going to spend 90% of her time seeking the lost, and only 10% with the relatively safe in the fold? Could that be the new mission and focus of the church? And when they get home, can we be the ones to rejoice for all the ones who have been lost and now are found?

Thom Shuman, a pastor from Ohio, throws out that challenge in his poem:

Are you lost and in need of being found? Or found, for the moment, and being called to seek the lost? Wherever you are at the present, rejoice in the good news: In God’s eyes, not one sheep is worth losing, even 99% are not enough. God’s gracious love holds on, seeks out, and does not let go. And that is cause indeed for rejoicing. Amen.