Jesus said to his disciples: “What is your opinion? If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them goes astray, will he not leave the ninety-nine in the hills and go in search of the stray? And if he finds it, amen, I say to you, he rejoices more over it than over the ninety-nine that did not stray. In just the same way, it is not the will of your heavenly Father that one of these little ones be lost.” (Matthew 18:12-14)
Advent is season of preparing, waiting, and anticipation. It is a season of repentance. We pray: “Come, Lord Jesus.” We await a King, a Messiah, the Light of the World. And into this expectant silence, we listen more interiorly to the words and wisdom of Jesus. In the above reading from Matthew’s Gospel, we hear Jesus telling a story of a single, straying sheep. A shepherd who leaves the ninety-nine. A frantic search over the hills. And a filled with great joy when the lost sheep is found.
This Gospel passage might feel out of place for Advent. It’s a teaching on the Father’s will: that not one of these “little ones” should be lost. Advent pulls back the curtain on its deeper meaning. This parable is not just about our care for each other; it is a stunning revelation of God’s heart, made flesh in the coming Christ.
First, consider the lost sheep who wanders away. In the field, slowly moving further away, step by step, getting distracted, all alone, exposed to the elements, and helpless in the gathering dark. Is this not the human condition Advent names? Our world, our own hearts, are prone to wandering. We sometimes get lost in busyness, in worry, in grief, in the sheer distraction of daily life. Advent begins by acknowledging this truth: we need to be found. The prophet’s cry: “We all, like sheep, have gone astray” (Isaiah 53:6). This parable makes that reality personal, intimate.
God in action: the shepherd does not write off the one as an acceptable loss. He does not say, “I have ninety-nine good ones. No. He leaves the ninety-nine on the mountains – secure and safe – and he goes in search of the lost sheep. He goes into the rough, the dangerous, the unknown.
The God we await is not waiting our return. The coming of Christ is the Shepherd leaving the heights of heaven and plunging into the thorny ravines of our world. The Incarnation – God becoming a vulnerable child – is the “ultimate “ love of God. He comes into world to find us, restore us, sanctify us, and reconcile us with the Father.
“And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he rejoices more over that one sheep than over the ninety-nine that did not go astray.” This is the destination of Advent. Our preparation, our repentance, our hopeful longing – it all culminates not in a scolding, but in a joyful celebration. The shepherd’s joy upon his shoulders is a foretaste of the angels song over Bethlehem. It is the joy of the Father: “For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is now found!” (Luke 15:24). Advent’s purpose is to bring us to the Christmas joy – not just holiday cheer, but a specific, overwhelming joy of being found. Of hearing, in the quiet of our lostness, the footsteps of the seeker, and feeling ourselves lifted onto his shoulders of grace.
For the one feeling lost: Advent is your season. The darkness you feel is the terrain the Shepherd is navigating to find you. Your feeling of being far off is not a reason for despair, but the very condition for the miracle. Stop trying to find your own way back. Listen for his call. Let yourself be found.
For the ninety-nine: we are called to the shepherd’s heart. We are to share his concern for the lost, supporting the search through prayer, compassion, empathy, and witness. We are to wait, not with judgement, but with anticipation for the celebration that is coming when the lost one is home. The flock’s joy is in the shepherd’s joy.
This Advent, as we wait for the King, we are reminded: His Kingdom comes one found sheep at a time. His majesty is revealed in mercy. His love knows no limits, but is infinite.
As we light the candles of the Advent wreath, marking these days of hope, peace, joy, and love, we pray, “Come, Lord Jesus,” to the lost and found, trusting that the Good Shepherd is already on the move, determined: to find you, find me, finds us all, and carry us home to the everlasting joy of His Kingdom. Come, Lord Jesus, our seeking Shepherd. Find us, and fill us with your joy.
St. Jude, pray for us ~ Blessings,
Fr. Ryan