Scripture

Luke 15:1-10

In this passage, Jesus uses two metaphors for the seeking God: that of 'the prudent pastoralist', and the one we examine today, 'the thrifty chatelaine'.

Both today's reflection and next week's are based on the first ten verses in Luke 15, the chapter which also contains the parable of the wayward son, the forgiving father and the unforgiving brother.

We don't always bother with authorship, but a note on it is appropriate today. There is general agreement that this gospel, and the Acts of the Apostles, were written by Paul's missionary colleague and personal physician, a gentile named 'Loukas' (or Luke).

Many, myself included, find Luke the most appealing of the four gospels. There is a strong emphasis on Jesus' concern for people in all kinds of need, and also on the role of women in his ministry.

There are two magnificent passages that point to a new order. One is Jesus' own 'manifesto' in chapter 4, based on words from the prophet Isaiah. The other is Mary's song in chapter 1, commonly called 'The Magnificat'.

I don't think we can escape the very strong hint in this - that Jesus' dream of a new order came through his mother. Perhaps it was a memory of his mother which gave him the metaphor we reflect on today: The thrifty chatelaine (or mistress of the household).

Suppose a woman who has ten silver coins loses one of them What does she do? She lights a lamp, sweeps her house and looks carefully everywhere until she finds it. When she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbours together, and says to them, 'I'm so happy I found the coin I lost. Let us celebrate!' In the same way, I tell you the angels of God rejoice over one sinner who repents.

1. The divine feminine

I suppose the first and most obvious feature in this little parable is that Jesus is using an image drawn from females' experience of femaleness in speaking of the divine.

Given what we said about Luke highlighting the role of women in Jesus' ministry, it may not surprise you that this material does not appear in Mark or Matthew. But it's consistent with Luke's high view of women - typified in the exalted position he gives to Jesus' mother.

In fact, the scriptures contain a wealth of imagery of God as female. In her book The Divine Feminine, Virginia Ramey Mollenkott deals with metaphors of Mother Bear, Mother Eagle, Mother Hen, Female Homemaker, Female Beloved and Nursing Mother, to name but some.

For me, the most evocative metaphor drawn from females' experience of femaleness has to be in the gospel of John; I refer to John's report of the conversation between Jesus and a religious leader named Nicodemus.

Nicodemus is portrayed as a genuine seeker who sees Jesus as inspired by God. Jesus tells him that the mode of entry to what he calls 'the kingdom of God' is by being born again. Nicodemus at this point becomes rather obtuse, and says, 'But how can a man who is getting old be born again? How can he go back into his mother's womb and repeat the process?'

To this Jesus explains that he is speaking 'metaphorically' about the action of the Spirit of God, in the gift of a new beginning and a new being. Following on this, some of those who are eager that we see both maleness and femaleness in the divine, suggest that the Spirit is the female aspect of God.

Be that as it may, the fact is that John has Jesus using a metaphor that is unambiguously female. Men do not give birth. Neither do men fully appreciate the long trial of gestation, the agonies of labour or the feeling of exultation that a woman experiences when cradling the fruit of her womb.

2. Divine persistence

Second, Jesus is using this image to speak of the persistence of the Divine.

Presumably the woman could have said, 'It will turn up sooner or later' or 'I'll wait for the children; they can help search' or 'It's no good worrying; I still have nine left'. But that is not what she does. First she lights a lamp in case the coin has rolled into a shadowy corner. Second, she sweeps; it could be under a piece of debris. That done, Jesus says she looks carefully everywhere. One can picture her on hands and knees.

She searches until she finds it. There's no fretting, no exasperation, no hint of giving up until she finds her lost coin. The Greek word translated 'find; can also mean to recognise or to meet with, which are appropriate if the search is for missing persons.

Which is, of course, what the parable is all about. It is about the One who is everywhere and at all times looking for missing persons - who have lost their bearings, lost their way, lost their reason for being. And this Divinity, Jesus says, may be likened to a housekeeper who covers every inch of her turf until what was missing is missing no more.

It is an image of persistence, to be sure, but of gentle persistence. The Bible tells of men and women who hear the Voice in very dramatic and arresting ways (coming from burning bushes and thunder clouds), but these are exceptional people having exceptional experiences. For the vast majority of us, God comes more like a woman scratching around the floor, humming softly to herself, until the missing coin is safe again in her hand. It is an image of gentle persistence ... or perhaps 'gentle persuasion'?

One of our great bridge-builders between faith and science is Charles Birch, former professor of biology at Sydney. Birch is not happy with the notion that God is inseparable from everything (what we call 'patheism') nor the alternative that God is independent of everything (what we call classical 'theism'). He argues that God is involved in everything that is happening, but independent of it - operating within the process as 'The Great Persuader'.

At the heart of the universe there is persuasive love, sustaining all individual entities and enticing them to deeper experiences so far as their freedom allows ...

(Charles Birch On Purpose, Kensington, NSW: New South Wales University Press, 1990, pp. 91-2)

Persuading and enticing is more feminine. Bullying and compelling is more masculine. I suspect that with this image of a woman on her knees, running her hands over the floor, Jesus is saying something about the gentle persistence of God.

3. The joy of the Divine

But the story doesn't end here. Jesus uses this image to speak about the joy of the Divine. He says, 'When she finds the coin, she calls her friends and neighbours together, and says to them, "I'm so happy I found the coin I lost. Let us celebrate!"' This is a different way of speaking about God from the one to which we've grown accustomed. It's not common for us to think of God, or speak of God, as 'feeling' - except perhaps in terms of anger and vengefulness. Godtalk concentrates more on images of might, majesty and power. We end up with a God who is 'impassible': a God who does not feel.

This may well be a flow-on from our using too many images drawn from males' experiences of maleness, and neglecting the kind of metaphor Jesus uses here. We think of maleness as tough, clinical, unemotional. Of course, it's all a bit of a pose, but nonetheless it's very strongly built into our way of thought. Men hide from the non-rational, affective, aesthetic in themselves - preferring to assign these characteristics to women. And male-constructed godtalk perpetuates the dominance of a God made in their own image.

Jesus upsets this with his metaphor of a woman who cannot contain her excitement. Having searched in silence, she breaks into joy and runs out to tell everyone. It's a scene of jubilation, perhaps even with tears of relief and joy. It should help men get into touch with that side of their being, and own up to a repertoire of tender feelings.

The implication is that the whole world (including humanity) has the capacity to bring both sadness and joy to the Divine. This is what gives the parable an interesting twist. It is saying that when we allow ourselves to be found, so to speak, there is rejoicing in heaven. That God is overjoyed with our response to gentle persuasion. Now a story - to illustrate, and to close.

A few years back I had one of those experiences dreaded by doctors, police and clergy. I had to inform a couple that their nineteen year old had been accidentally kicked in the head while playing football. He was in the intensive care unit at one of our hospitals, with a fractured skull, and possible brain damage. He was unconscious, and the medical staff were not prepared to guess at what might happen in the following few hours. There was little response to stimuli, and they had told me not to be optimistic.

The family had loose ties with their local church, which rallied around in all sorts of ways. There were prayers for him and his parents in the services, and people were quick to offer practical assistance with meals for the younger kids so that the parents could stay by him in the hospital.

The first twenty-four hours came an went, with no observable change. But he was still alive, and that gave everyone a little more hope. Another day went by, and there was no sign of stirring from his coma. His mother was with him during the day, and his father came in at night, sleeping on a stretcher by the bed. On the third day, the mother tried to get some response, and thought her boy's hand was tightening a little around hers. But there was still no other sign of response.

When I arrived next day, I stayed outside because the nurses were giving him some attention; his mother came out and sat alongside me. She looked a wreck, but a determined wreck! Then the nurses came out, she went in ahead of me. I thought it best if I waited a little while. Suddenly she emerged from the room, tears cascading down her face. She clung to me, quivering from top to toe. I thought he must have died in her arms. Not so. 'He's responding', she said. 'He opened his eyes and said "Hi, Mum"'.

He had lapsed back into unconsciousness, but that initial hint of a response was all she wanted. She was over the moon. He made good progress over the next few days. Apart from some headaches, numbness in parts of his face, and some unsteadiness on the feet, he was in good shape after about three weeks.

I like to think it needs only the beginning signs of response on our part to bring joy to God. For heaven's sake! None of us achieves instant union with God, much less instant perfection! That isn't what is meant by one sinner repenting. It means turning around and saying to God, 'Here I am. I want to be friends with you'. That's a beginning ... and it's enough.

Reproduced here on the Warragul Uniting Church web site with the permission of the author,
Rev Dr John Bodycomb -2004.