September 11 and 12, 2004
Barbara Schlachter

The King of Love my shepherd is, whose goodness faileth never; I nothing lack if I am his, and he is mine for ever. Where streams of living water flow; my ransomed soul he leadeth, and where the verdant pastures grow, with food celestial feedeth. Perverse and foolish oft I strayed, but yet in love he sought me, and on his shoulder gently laid, and home rejoicing, brought me.

These first three verses of hymn 645 are a paraphrase of the 23^rd Psalm. This is one of my favorite hymns and one that I want sung at my funeral. The image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd is one of my earliest pictures of him. Not only did I learn about Jesus as a good shepherd in Sunday School, but I had the actual experience of straying and being rescued a number of times as a child.

I spent the first seven years of my life on my grandfather’s farm, and I was allowed to wander and play in the orchards and fields. Time after time, they tell me, I would get lost in the wheat or the corn. They would go up to the second floor of their houses, my grandparents and parents, and look out the window to find me. They dressed me in bright colors, and they would spot me and come and get me. I don’t ever remember being scared except once when I got caught in mud and couldn’t get my feet loose. Otherwise, in the fields, I would just sit down and confidently expect one of them to show up and kindly lead me home.

I have no doubt that my deep faith in God started from these early years. I came to expect that if parents and grandparents would rescue me, how much more so would Jesus. So Jesus was and is the Good Shepherd.

This story is well known and beloved by many besides me. Our bishops carry staffs like shepherds, and although probably few of us have ever seen a real shepherd with real sheep, it still carries metaphorical weight with us.   

This story in Luke is paired with another that we don’t know so well. It is the story of the woman who lost one of her ten coins, and looked and swept until she found it. Sweeping and searching for lost objects is something that many of us are quite familiar with. We do this almost daily. So why don’t we have Jesus saying “I am the Good Housewife.”  Why don’t our church leaders carry brooms?  Well, I just happen to have a broom here with me. I wonder how many of you were wondering if I was getting ready for Halloween!

Sometimes we are totally lost, like I was as a child and in definite need of being scooped up and carried home. And this is literally what a shepherd would have to do, because a lost sheep will not walk on its own. It lies down and has to be carried back to the fold. Shepherds in the Middle East persistently seek out their sheep even into modern times. It was a shepherd searching for a lost lamb that made the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls in the Quamran cave.

Often, however, we are not as much lost as in need of being swept clean, of being tidied up. I think our prayer of confession that we say each Sunday is more along the lines of straightening us out and cleaning us up and restoring the image of God in us. 

So they are both rich images. I have seen a lot of sheep in Ireland and Britain and in the Middle East , and I have swept a lot of floors and lost a lot of things, and thus I have ample experiences with these stories.

There is a difference between them, however. In one we identify with the sheep, and in the other we identify with the woman seeking rather than the lost coin. And I think that it is important to be able to do either. Sometimes we are in need of knowing we are carried in Jesus’ arms. As I wrote this I thought of my husband’s father, in the hospital in Nebraska , learning that he will have to wear a total torso brace for six months and not be able to return to his home. And my husband was driving the six hours to be with his father, and I thought of both of them being carried in Jesus’ arms, hoping that the images of comfort would be felt by them.

But then there are times that we need to identify with the shepherd seeking or the woman searching. We need to claim our place among the 99 sheep in the fold and the 9 coins and be thankful that we are indeed part of the safe and saved community. From there, we become commissioned to do the shepherd and housewife’s work—to do the searching and seeking of the lost.

For it is very clear that Jesus believed not one person should remain outside the fold, separated from God. No one should feel uncared for or alone. No one should be frightened when someone could seek them out and hold their hand. Perhaps some of these are folks that have been foolish and strayed, like the hymn says, and perhaps some of them become cut adrift because of life’s hard events. It didn’t matter to Jesus. If the Pharisees wanted to consider them sinful, fine. After all, what is sin except brokenness and separation, and if one outside is brought in, there is rejoicing in heaven. That is what matters to Jesus. 

The individual is important, every individual is important. It doesn’t matter if they are perverse and foolish; it doesn’t matter who or what; everyone counts because they bear the image of God.

In addition to this, though, there is a sense that the 99 and the 9 need the missing one to be complete and whole. The community suffers when everyone is not in the circle, not in the fold, not safely held. There is no such thing as thinking  “who needs him or her anyway.”  A family is incomplete without all of its members present. That is why death and divorce and other cut offs hurt everyone. It may be the way it has to be, but there is a price, and a lack of wholeness that will always be felt.

So when we in our churches lose someone, we lose part of ourselves. When someone returns, there is wholeness and rejoicing. St. Paul made it clear that we are all members of the body, and the various members cannot cut themselves off or be cut-off without the whole body suffering. 

At my ordination The Rt. Rev. Robert Dewitt who preached asked “What is the most important part of the body?  The part the hurts the most.”  We know this is the case;  just wear a pair of shoes that is too tight and see if you can really think about anything but getting those shoes off, and if you have a toothache, it’s hard to be aware of anything else. We need the body to be whole if we are going to be at our best.

For a moment I want to take this body image to the individual. Often we have parts of ourselves that we consider unacceptable. If we have had childhood trauma, we often bury part of ourselves deep within because we think that what happened was so painful and wrong that we cannot admit that it is part of us. We carry a splinter within; we hold on to pain, rather than let that wound be opened so that it can heal. When people who have been sexually abused, when wives or children who have been physically or emotionally battered can get help and learn to accept this part of themselves and know themselves as beloved, they are brought home to themselves just like the lamb was returned to the fold.

We all need all of ourselves. We all need each other. We all need to know we are being carried. We all need to go in search of what or who feel lost or left out. It’s just what Jesus did and expects of us.

Besides, recovery of a lost one makes God happy. Heaven rejoices. There is celebration when someone returns home. Rejoice with me, the shepherd calls, for I have found my lost sheep. Rejoice with me the woman calls, for I have found the coin I had lost. Just so there is Joy in Heaven. Eugene Peterson translates this line, “Count on it—that’s the kind of party God’s angels throw every time one lost soul turns to God.” 

Friends, we ought to be having these parties every day! Maybe that’s what the Eucharist is after all, for the word itself means Thanksgiving.