Lost and Found

 

(Note: I originally wrote this blog in 2013 and again in 2016. Each time, including this 2022 rendition, I revised it to reflect how the event currently affects me. Over time the emotions associated with being lost and found have never diminished.)  

We all know what it’s like to lose something or someone. Perhaps we can remember a time when we felt lost ourselves. We all know those associated feelings that border on fear, if not terror.  Luke 15:1-32 helps us to remember how we felt when we experienced loss and the joy we felt when we were “reunited” or “found.” One of my most memorable experiences with feeling lost goes back to my early childhood and today, almost 80 years later,  it is indelibly ingrained in my memory.

I was not more than five years old and my mother, sister and I were at a crowded beach in Coney Island. I must have gotten a little bored sitting on the blanket alone with my mother and sleeping baby sister. So I began pestering my mother about wanting to get some water for my pail to bring back to the blanket where we were sitting and make some mud pies. Mom resisted my going to the shore alone despite it being less than 50 yards away but she did not want to leave my sister sleeping unattended. I finally convinced her that I could not possibly get lost as the water was so close and I would always be aware of where mom was sitting. She yielded and so I made my way with my metal pail and shovel in tow, carefully drawing a  Hansel and Gretel-like “directional” line in the sand with my foot.

I played at the surfside for a bit, filled my pail and turned to make my way back to the blanket. Of course, the line was obscured and I began to panic because despite not being able to find the line in the sand, fear blocked my ability to remain calm and scan the heads and faces and see my mother waving (as I learned later.) And so I began to cry. A woman standing nearby immediately came to my aid, and assured me that we would find my mother. Although it must have seemed an eternity in a matter of seconds my mother  gathered me up in her arms and held me close, assuring me that I was not lost and that I was always in her sight. Perhaps the reason I can still remember this event so vividly  even as I write today, is because of how palpable the safety of my mother’s arms felt.

I relate this childhood experience with the stories Jesus uses in our gospel to describe what it means to lose and to find and to be lost and be found. I wonder what is the more memorable of the two emotions, the fear of being lost or the joy of being found. In both instances Luke depicts the joy in finding what was lost and being found. There was no recrimination just joy.

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.