I should preach to you about sheep and shepherds today, and perhaps in a moment I will. After all, the lost sheep is one of the best known of the parables Jesus told, one I’ve re-told very fruitfully in many a children’s service and school assembly. But first, let me tell you a story about a family moving house.
At the end of weeks of sorting things out, packing, preparing, the day at last had come. Everything that was moving had been packed into boxes and cases and tea chests. All the furniture was piled together, the carpets and rugs were rolled up, the pictures had been taken down off the walls and wrapped in old sheets. Soon the furniture van would arrive, and everything would be loaded in. And then the family would follow by car: Mum, Dad, David and Alison.
Alison had packed a bag with a lot of her toys in. They were to come with the family in their car, being, as she said "MUCH too precious to send in any old furniture van." Her mother had tried to pack My Little Ponies and a host of other things into the boxes labelled “toys”, but Alison would have none of it. Nearly all her best toys were in the car. Her big brother David, on the other hand, had been happy to let his toys be packed - those he was even bothering to take, that is. Really, David was growing out of toys. He'd sent quite a few to the summer jumble sale at school.
Some of the others were outside, in the Box for Broken Toys. For when you move house there’s a great opportunity for sorting things out, and throwing things out, and Mum had done her best. That toaster that had somehow lingered on in the kitchen even though it had toasted nothing for years - there’d be no place for it in the new kitchen. Dad's old gardening trousers and that dreadful hat he sometimes wore were at the bottom of a dustbin bag where. all being well, he’d never find them. And the Broken Toys - cars and tractors with wheels missing, dolls that had lost an arm or leg, jigsaw puzzles with pieces missing: all of these had been tossed into the Box for Broken Toys, ready for that day's visit by the Dustbin Men. New house equals new start, no more Broken Things.
Among the Broken Toys was Scrufftop. He was actually quite near the bottom of the box, because he'd been one of the first Broken Toys to go in. Scrufftop had been David's teddy bear, but David didn't need teddy bears any more. He hadn't looked at Scrufftop for years. Scrufftop had an eye missing, a torn ear, and was mostly bald; nor was he as well stuffed as once he'd been. Not that he'd ever been a very handsome bear (hence the name). If toys could talk, like they do on 'Toy Story', I don’t imagine the other toys would have said much to Scrufftop that was positive. He’d had his day. Once he'd been loved; now he was just rubbish.
David and Alison were both very excited about the new house; but Alison was feeling a little bit sad as well. She'd had many happy times in the old house, and it was sad to see it now with no curtains in the windows, already beginning to look unwanted. The furniture men were just finishing loading the van, so the children climbed into the back of the family car. Many of Alison's toys were in the boot - to be honest, there wasn't much room for anything else - but she'd brought one load into the car with her (packed in a Sainsbury's Bag for Life); and now, as the car headed out of the drive, she delved down and found Harry, her fluffy and cuddly green hedgehog. A little bit of comfort, as she said a sad goodbye to their old happy house.
Meanwhile, down near the bottom of the Box for Broken Toys, think of Scrufftop - unloved and unwanted, not even thought about any more. Once he'd been loved; now he was just rubbish. Or was he? When David noticed his sister cuddling Harry the Hedgehog, he suddenly shouted out, "WHERE'S SCRUFFTOP?" Mum looked round and smiled. "Where's what?" she said. "David, you’ve not bothered with that old thing for years!" She turned back. "Haven't you brought him?" asked David. "Of course not!" Mum replied. The car turned onto the main road out of town. "We have to go back for him!" David announced - and with one of his 'My dear, what have you done now?' expressions on his face (but wisely saying nothing) Dad turned the car round, and headed back.
Back at the old house the Dustbin Men were already busily shifting rubbish. Half the street had been cleared already; and if there hadn't been a bit of a problem getting the dustbin lorry past a bus going one way and a milk float heading the other, maybe the bags and boxes at David and Alison's old house would also have gone. As it was, they just got back in time. As soon as the car came to a stop, David's door was open; he ran straight to the Box for Broken Toys, and scrabbled and scrabbled down to nearly the bottom. And there he was - old hairless, one eyed, torn-eared fantastic Scrufftop.
Broken? Maybe he was. Old? Certainly. But unwanted and unloved, and just rubbish? No way. New house, new start, lots of new things to look forward to, but it seemed there'd always be a place for old Scrufftop.
So there you are. Funny, isn’t it, how we can go on loving scruffy old special toys like teddy bears, how they stay special even when no-one else would give them a second glance. Funny, isn’t it, how God feels much the same about us. David loved Scrufftop in a special way; even though he'd grown out of most of his toys, he wasn't going to let go of Scrufftop. Years later, and grown up, it wouldn’t surprise me if he still has him, and still loves him.
God loves each one of us in just that same way. As if each one of us was that one special toy you go on loving when you've forgotten all the others. And he still loves us, loves us just as much, when we're scruffy and smelly and not very lovable. He may not like us, but he goes on loving us. Other people may throw us out, treat us like rubbish, but God continues to love us. That’s the message Jesus came to bring; that’s the story behind the story of the lost sheep. It’s about how much God loves and treasures and cares for each one of us.
So back to the story of the lost sheep. I reckon that most of the time if one out of a hundred sheep goes missing, the shepherd will write it off, cut his losses, and be thankful he’s still got the others; but this shepherd doesn’t do that. Each one of his sheep is known, valued, loved; so off he goes to search for it. And when he finds it and brings it home, there's great rejoicing.
Some people thought that if Jesus was a proper teacher he’d spend all his time with the insiders, the holy folk who did all the right things and never strayed. They were highly suspicious of the way he’d go off to visit and spend time with outsiders, folk like tax collectors, prostitutes, undesirable people - sinners. Jesus gives them and us a simple and direct answer. You may write people off, he says, but God never does. We may drift away from God, to get lost in all the tempting byways of the world, but God never stops loving us.
The Church is the body of Christ, so being as like Jesus as we can be is our number one priority. This parable reminds us that to do that includes seeking out those who are lost, and bringing them home. Teresa of Avila says that 'ours are the hands with which Christ seeks to bless the world today'. So the Church can never be content as it is, and the Church has no right to be aloof and in any way to look down on those around it. We’re all rather like Scrufftop, loved despite ourselves, not because of our innate goodness or beauty. What saves us is not that we do well, but that God does not give up on us. And so like our Lord himself (and in his service), our call is to seek out the lost and strayed, and to bring them back so that they, like us, can know God's love for them, and know that love for real. And then there will be rejoicing in heaven.
As Jesus says to us (every one of us): "Love one another, just as I have loved you."
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