Numbers

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
September 11, 2022

19 Proper C 

Two parables:

          Once, after a very long time of not being able to sing together in worship due to a pandemic, a certain church that will remain unnamed was finally able to sing together.  There had certainly been music over the past many months-organ music, recorded hymns and choir anthems, but no live singing.  When the Sunday finally arrived, and singing was allowed even if masks were required, the joy was palpable.  The priest was grateful for the mask so her tears of joy would not show.  What had been lost was found, and there was a sense of wholeness again as the church sang together as one and there was great rejoicing.

          Again in that church, after many months of not being able to see one another’s faces because of the pandemic, the Sunday came when the masks could come off.  That which had once been taken for granted and lost, the ability to exchange a smile, to see each other fully, had been restored.  The smiles were huge.  The energy created by simply seeing the faces of friends was contagious.  What had been lost was found, there was a sense of wholeness again, and there was great rejoicing.

          When we hear Jesus’ parables this morning about a lost sheep and a lost coin, we understand the losing, the finding, and the rejoicing.  For once, Jesus actually makes sense and I love the thought of God rejoicing!  And yet, when Jesus’ parables make such great sense, we are often called to look deeper.

          First, the answer to the question “Which of you, having 100 sheep and losing one of them does not leave the 99 in the wilderness and go after the one?” is probably no one.  No one is going to leave the 99 unattended and go after the one.  Then there will be one found sheep and 99 lost sheep.  Secondly, Jesus is making a rather large leap from the finding of a lost sheep or coin to the rejoicing in heaven over a sinner who repents.  Neither a sheep nor a coin are capable of repentance.  They are just lost.  Lastly, we can think that the shepherd and the woman represent God looking for the lost, but we are never lost to God.  We may feel lost.  We may act lost, rather like the people in the reading from Exodus this morning, and God may not be happy with us, but God knows right where we are. We are never lost to God.

          So what is Jesus up to this morning and how do these parables respond to the grumbling of the Pharisees and scribes who say “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them?” 

The answer, I believe, is in the numbers.  There were 100 sheep and 10 coins, both nice round numbers that indicate completeness.  Both the lost sheep and the lost coin belonged to a larger whole.  Without the lost sheep or the lost coin, the whole is broken.  Something is missing.  When the sheep and the coin are found, the whole is complete again.  And there is great rejoicing, not just that the lost have been found, but that the broken has been made whole.

          Later this morning/in a few minutes, we will baptize Madeline Bailey.  We can easily think that we have brought this little sheep into the fold and we will say “We receive you into the household of God.”  So, yes, we do welcome Madeline into the fold. But we also welcome her into the fold to join us in the work of making the broken whole.  Our work, as the baptismal covenant tells us, is to work for justice and peace, to proclaim the Good News in word and action, to respect the dignity of every human being, to bring wholeness to this broken world, and to rejoice when whatever is broken is made whole. 

          One last story.  Two of the Sundays I was on sabbatical, I worshipped on line with St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church in Vestavia Hills, Alabama, a suburb of Birmingham. In June, that church was the victim of a terrible shooting that took the lives of three beloved parishioners.  The whole was broken in a devastating way.  I took that shooting hard.  An Episcopal Church in a community not unlike Hudson where a friend of mine worships had been attacked.  On the Sunday after the shooting, the church was packed and the rector delivered a powerful sermon about being a gospel witness to the love of God even in the midst of tragedy, loss, and brokenness.  Some weeks later, I joined them again on the Sunday they reconsecrated the Parish Hall where the shooting had occurred.  Again, the church was packed.  The sermon was delivered by a former rector who is now a bishop.  The message, however, was the same.  Our call as Christians is to work for the healing of the world, to mend brokenness, and to be a force for love.  In the midst of sadness, loss of many kinds, and unspeakable grief, there was wholeness and deep joy and genuine rejoicing grounded in God’s abundant love that is without exception.  I am sure that rejoicing was not only earthly, but heavenly as well.

          On this day especially, when we remember the events of 9/11 21 years ago, and the deep losses of so many kinds on that day, and in the midst of the many losses and frustrations of our own day, Jesus’ response to the grumbling of the Pharisees and scribes reminds us of the call of the gospel to work for wholeness.  The work of the gospel, and the work of baptism, is to restore the broken to wholeness, to work for unity where there is division, and to proclaim our faith that love heals by showing that love to the world.  The appropriate response to the restoration of wholeness and unity is not grumbling, but deep and unbridled joy-both on earth and in heaven!

                                                                            Amen.