The question isn’t what is lost or who is looking. These parables aren’t about the lost, but what it is to participate in losing and finding.
how Jesus reimagines a God of love
Proper 19C
Luke 15:1-10
Who is Jesus talking to?
This is one of the favorite questions in scripture. Literally, who is the audience for these words in the text?
Often it’s the disciples. And at the end of chapter 14, he was just talking to the huge crowd of followers.
Then it says
“All the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to Jesus.”
And then it says the Pharisees are grumbling about him.
“So he told them this parable”.
Who is the “them”? The disciples, crowds, tax collectors and sinners, or the scribes and Pharisees? The easy answer is all of them. A more nuanced answer is each of them. And the yet deeper answer is all of the above.
Because the truth is that which audience one is in effects how they hear the story. And it affects the purpose of the story.
Three Parables
Jesus tells three parables, which are all three variations on a common theme:
Something is lost.
Someone looks for it.
The lost is found.
The finder throws a big party.
The differences in each of these parables are subtle. And I think those subtle differences flesh out their stories even more.
A shepherd, a woman, a father.
A sheep, a coin, a son.
But they also contain elements which flesh out their difference in more challenging ways.
The shepherd leaves the sheep alone in the dangerous wilderness.
The woman lights lamps and looks throughout the night.
And the father welcomes home an estranged son.
For us, these examples highlight the true challenge in these parables. For in one, the shepherd seems reckless, leaving 99 sheep in danger to go after the one who is lost. Then a woman wastefully spends her resources scrambling for one coin. And then a father forgives a son before he can repent. And the man’s other son, the elder, becomes extremely jealous.
These parables seem careless, dangerous, even frightfully unfair. There’s a hint here of the Mary and Martha story, isn’t there? That sense of unnecessary division. Or perhaps the sense that Jesus isn’t being fair to everybody.
Hold onto that. Because that feeling is essential.
Which are you?
So now if we ask who is Jesus talking to, we’ll know these stories will be heard with different ears. People who feel lost will feel the hope they long for. Those who are following the way of Jesus are listening for the teaching. But what do the scribes and Pharisees hear?
When they say “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them,” they do so derisively, right? The word translated here as “welcome” may be “to bring into one’s arms”. The true charge against Jesus isn’t that he’s nice to the riff-raff. It’s that he embraces them like a father embraces a lost son. He touches the unclean, redeems the impure, heals the sick at the wrong time.
What they hear is a story they know is a teaching about God. And that teaching goes against the rules they guard deep inside.
We may hear the most quintessential story about God’s mercy but they hear heresy.
So when we locate ourselves in this story, do we place ourselves in one of these places? Whose shoes do we fill? The disciples? The crowds? Maybe the tax collectors and sinners or scribes and Pharisees?
Are we in desperate need to be shown mercy? Is it our work to sit and learn at the feet of our master? Or are we looking to call out the heretic in our midst and seek to silence him?
And given our place in this postmodern Christianity dare we only see ourselves in one of these roles and not all of them?
Jesus is talking to us
I think Jesus is a smart dude. He knows who is listening to him and how they will hear it. He also doesn’t assume they only hear one thing in it.
They will hear about a blasphemous mercy and incredible generosity. They’ll hear an aesthetic of urgent joy. And chances are, they’ll have what many call “all the feels”.
And so do we. Every time we read these parables, we encounter a text that challenges us in what we assume and invites us in to explore further.
These aren’t teachings about having the right answers! It’s about witnessing the true joy God has for all of creation.
I was reminded of a universal story.
One that every parent or caregiver experiences.
You’re in a busy store, looking at the shelves. You’ve only looked away for a second—it wasn’t that long—but your child is gone…
Or you’re at home and they’re playing pretend, running around the living room. You’re reading, escaping for a moment. And you hear it, the thump, the silence, then screams…
A sensation of incredible focus floods your brain. Where are they? Are they safe? Can I save them?
Nothing else matters. You’re not paying attention to the time or who is at fault or what percentage of responsibility should be taken by which parties. There’s no negotiating or caring for the terms of the debate. There’s only action. Only love.
And when you find them? Joy. Relief. Gratitude. Maybe some swearing to God you’ll do better. I’ll never let them out of my sight again!
These parables are about that single-focused sensation, that tunnel-vision. All these excuses and distractions aren’t the point.
The point is love.
A love which isn’t about retributive punishment or keeping score. One that knows the 99 will be fine if they stick together, but that one is scared and needs someone. A love that knows it would be more prudent to wait for the sun to rise but that the money isn’t really the point.
The kind of love that would drive a father down the driveway to wrap his arms around the son who dishonored him.
A love that would declare the dead has been raised. And there is only joy. A singular-focused love is abounding in joy and gratitude.
So it’s only natural that we throw a party. We celebrate.
A warning for cynics
The third parable warns us of what happens when we lose this singular focus. What kind of monstrous response we have when we major in the minors. The elder son is overwhelmed by jealousy. So he threatens to break apart his family and destroy his own future over his father’s mercy.
It’s an image we can all recognize. And it can seem rational at the time. Especially if that is us. And we’re afraid. Or feel as if we’ve been good. That we deserve more love from God than other people. When we deserve the fulfillment of our desires. Or to secure our privilege.
God invites us into this overwhelming joy, this crazy love. We aren’t the center of the universe or deserve more than our siblings.
The question isn’t whether or not we deserve it. We were never lost. And our threats of leaving mean now we are.
Found
There’s something beautiful about this story we often overlook. I think we focus on what Jesus is trying to say. Or we try to place ourselves in it. And in doing so, we miss something.
We focus on what’s lost: the sheep, the coin, the son. And we call these the parables of the Lost Sheep, Lost Coin, and Prodigal (Lost) Son. This is a pretty passive description. Something has happened to something.
And we jump to the primary agent in the parables: the shepherd, the woman, the father. That’s God. It’s an allegory.
But as Christians, we aren’t just tax collectors and sinners being brought into the arms of Jesus. Nor are we cynical leaders angry at not getting our way.
We are agents in the world. We aren’t characters helplessly enslaved to the narrative. There’s no sitting motionless behind a bookshelf waiting for the woman to find us.
This story provokes us to take agency; to claim the role of agent in this story. So we aren’t stuck being a son who gets lost and found or the son who loses himself in jealousy anymore than can be stuck being an inanimate object or stubborn livestock.
We are the shepherd! The woman! The Father! And when one of us is lost each of us can find her. We can embody that single-minded love, effervescent joy, and the deep gratitude that leads to celebrating. It isn’t alien to us!
We can love with all our hearts, all of our desire, and all our hope in the power of God’s love. We aren’t trapped and lost; we’re found! And so we can find others with a single-minded love, extraordinary gratitude, and zeal for celebrating.