"Rejoice with me..." (Luke 15:9). How many of you have had the frustrating experience of depositing a coin in a public telephone slot and losing it. Author Norman Cousins, a true believer in the healing power of humor, tells of a "lost coin" episode in his life: I went into the telephone booth to call my office. I put a quarter in the slot and dialed the number, but nothing happened. I pressed the "coin return" lever. Nothing happened. Then I heard a voice say, "Deposit 25 cents please." It was a recording. I put in another quarter, got a live operator and asked her to return my lost quarter. She said, "Sir, if you will give me your name and address, I'll be glad to mail it to you."
It seemed absurd that the telephone company would spend 29 cents in postage, to say nothing of personnel expense, just to refund a quarter to me -- and I told her so. I pressed the "coin return" lever again, and, miracle of miracles, the contraption started spewing out everything it contained: quarters, dimes and nickels came tumbling out in magnificent and overflowing profusion.
"Operator," I asked, "are you still there?"
"Yes."
"Operator, something quite remarkable has just happened. All I did was press the coin-return lever and the machine is spilling out all its earnings. There must be at least $3 in coins here and the flow hasn't stopped."
"Sir," she said, "will you please put the money back in the coin box?"
"Operator," I said, "if you will give me your name and address, I'll be glad to mail it to you."
Today's Gospel Text includes Jesus' "Parable of the Lost Coin." In the opening lines of the Reading, Luke tells us that many people perceived as sinners were turning out to hear Jesus speak. "They were all seeking His company to hear what He had to say," Luke says (Lk. 15:1). Seeing this, the self-righteous scribes and Pharisees complained. "This man welcomes sinners and eats with them," they said (Lk. 15:1).
And it is in this context that Jesus speaks a series of parables directly to those self-righteous men -- including the "Parable of the Lost Coin":
A poor woman has lost a single coin called a "drachma." Although the value of the drachma is only about 18 cents (a day's pay for a shepherd), nevertheless this one coin meant everything to the unfortunate lady. The parable tells us that before her loss, she possessed a total of 10 drachmas. We can surmise that the coins were her most valued possession: her dowry. Apparently, she had followed the custom of wearing the coins on her head-dress. As dowries went, it was a small one. A wealthier, perhaps "more eligible" woman, would have 30, 40 or 50 drachmas available.
(We can picture the bachelor with marriage on his mind casting nervous glances in the direction of the head-piece, mentally counting the coins as he gave the lady the "once-over").
When the poor woman realizes one of her drachmas is missing, she is thoroughly shaken. In a sense her whole future is at stake. The lost coin takes on new value. In the darkness of her windowless home she must use a broom to search into the dark corners. And the tinkle she hears when the broom hits the coin sounds to her like cathedral bells on Resurrection Day. Overcome with relief and joy, "she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin which I had lost'" (lk. 15:9).
After telling this parable, Jesus says, "Just so, I tell you there is joy before all the angels of God over one sinner who repents" (Lk. 15:10).
Before telling this parable, Jesus had pointed this out to the self-righteous scribes and Pharisees whose minds were closed to the idea of their own need to repent. "Just so, I tell you," Jesus said to them, "there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over 99 righteous persons who need no repentance" (Lk. 15:7).
There is, of course, a blessed irony in this. Those "99" men who need no repentance do not exist now, never before have existed and never will exist. We all are sinners! No exceptions! If all the sinners in this congregation were to get up right now and leave, this place would be empty. (What a relief it is to realize that Jesus invites us to "come as we are.")
Several years ago, "Readers Digest" published a little story about a parish "Adult Religious Education Class" that attracted a marvelously diverse group of students, in terms of race, ethnicity and economic status. One evening, a woman in the class told her fellow-students about a song she had heard recently on the radio. "The lyrics," she said, "talked about a place where 'everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came.'" Then she said, "Somebody told me that it was the theme song for a TV program about a saloon ("Cheers"). And I can't help wishing that they were singing it about our Church."
Somehow, those song lyrics inspired that class to give itself a name. After considering many suggestions, it was decided unanimously, to adopt the name, "The Come-Just-As-You-Are Class." Why do you suppose they chose that name? I like to think it represented a clear insight into the Gospels: that they were bonded together as a little Community of Christ, not by their individual strengths but by their individual weaknesses. It was in their weaknesses that they found a unity of purpose. "The Come Just As You Are" name suggests that in acknowledging their weaknesses, they were able to rejoice in the Gospel Truth that "there is joy before all the angels of God over one sinner who repents."
Like the woman in the parable of the lost coin, we sometimes become careless with one of our greatest treasures: Jesus' Gospel of repentance and reconciliation. Like the Pharisees, we sometimes number ourselves among the mythical ninety-nine who have no need of repentance.
We may be a little fuzzy on the meaning of repentance, but we can be sure that it involves much more than several small adjustments in our lives:
Repentance penetrates the crusts of piety we wrap around ourselves.
Repentance begins inside the heart, and turns life upside down for us and rightside up for God.
Repentance reverses our priorities, upsets our values, turns our pockets inside out.
Repentance shatters our systems of security, and hangs us on the thin thread we call the "Will of God."
Repentance revolts against the sin we have loved and reconciles us to God whom we have not loved.
In our lostness, we gather together as Jesus' friends and neighbors. Having listened to His Word, we are ready to accept His invitation to "rejoice and celebrate" with Him.
That's the marvelous thing about our Christian faith: God becomes Incarnate -- ONE OF US -- to seek us in our lostness.
However lost we may be, we are never abandoned. Jesus finds us where we are. He is with us now! We were lost, but now are found! Let us join Him in the celebration!
