The Parable of the Lost Keys

Jesus seemed to have a knack for making profound statements about the incomprehensible nature of God through the telling of simple, mundane stories: farming, going to work, having dinner, and the one I most resonate with, losing things. Yes, to those of you who did not just chuckle or roll your eyes or throw another dart at that picture of me you have hanging on your wall, I great difficulty with keeping track of my belongings. Call it holding on loosely to the things of this earth.

Anyway, this morning I awoke to piddling torrents of rain and the timpani-rumblings of thunder reverberating in my ears, sounds I greatly enjoy. I decided to drive to the main Wichita State campus this morning rather than walk, both because of the storm and because I had a doctor's appointment scheduled in just enough time for me to drive directly there after class. I thought myself a very astute planner. However, I forgot upon exiting my vehicle that I was toting a very pristine leather laptop case given to me by my father, and it was becoming rather discolored due to the precipitation. I cantered inside of the hall and proceeded directly to the men's room to run some paper towels along the exterior of the case in hopes of reversing any damage. The bag was fine, and I went on my merry way to class, preparing myself for some sight-singing and interval notation. At the end of the class I shared a third of a friend's umbrella and made it back to my car relatively dry. I reached down to my right hip to detach the keys I hang from the belt loop there, but instead of the usual green carabeener grazing my skin, I experienced very damp denim. Yes, yet again, my keys went astray. To shorten the "parable", I did a lot of searching, missed the appointment, and found the keys in the lost and found. No real harm done, and some private rejoicing was in order. Relief far outweighed the price it took to find the keys.

Now to tie it all in...

In Luke 15, Jesus gives us a three clear pictures of God's heart for the lost and wayward of this world (you should drop what you're doing and read it right now, it's brilliant). A man loses one of his many sheep and leaves the faithful ones to find the stray. A woman loses a precious coin, and though she has others she searches her entire house to find it. A man's son leaves the fold to pursue his own ambitions, and when he comes shamefully home he finds his father waiting for him with open arms and a heart overflowing with compassion and inexplicable love.

How do these illustrations apply to us? I think the stories come with both an incredibly humbling encouragement and a challenging motivation. First, the losing of the items. What would prompt a shepherd, a homeowner, a father to search so desperately for what they are missing? The fact that whatever was lost is worth the effort and sacrifice necessary to restore it. For some reason, God in His infinite holiness and perfection considers flawed, wayward humans worth something. Worth quite a lot of something in fact, as Jesus voluntarily left his throne in the heavenlies to serve the poor and broken and later die for those who persecuted and murdered Him. At the end of each parable, Jesus made it a point to express the joy that the seeker has in finding their beloved runaway. The shepherd calls everyone he cares about together for a party, and Christ relays that "in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent" (Luke 15: 7). Jesus misses us when we stray! Do we grasp the enormity of that? Does that not make us want to break down and run with reckless abandon toward Him?

I think this is where the challenge lies. If Christ would love us enough and miss the chance for relationship with us enough and consider the opportunity to get to know even one human being enough grounds to sacrifice and die the way he did; if our repentance is grounds for a heaven-shaking, blowout party, then how do I dare forget Him? What gives me the gall to decide not to follow his commands, to pursue my own selfish ambitions and trite desires of the flesh? It's truly sickening when you compare our commitment to Christ to the commitment He has for us. I find comfort in the fact that the shepherd had no hatred for the sheep. The woman did not hurl insults at her coin when she lost it. The father did not transform his son's room into a high-dollar sauna when he flipped him the bird and left. These people were heartbroken, desperate, and earnest seekers of what they lost. They wanted so badly to return things to the way that they were meant to be. So I ask us all, do we acknowledge our Father's love for us? If we are created in His image, and something so trivial as losing our keys can make us panic and abandon conventionality to find them, how can we deny His mourning for those who disown Him? I pray that this would motivate us to better follow the teachings of Jesus, not out of obligation or merely fear, but also because God desires us so badly. Why should we deny Him what He came here to find?