Recently a paper-clipped envelope headed for the bank on my morning errands, was misplaced. This brought on a bit of a panic into our little abode. Checking diligently in all of the places it might have been, I tore our house apart doing my best to think logically, remain clear-headed, and introduce the St. Anthony prayer to our little ladies (‘Tony, Tony, turn around, something’s lost that must be found’). I did find it, eventually (in our collection of library books). *Cue exasperated sigh of relief/frustration/humor.
Ironically, I remember thinking of the parable of the lost coin–in this season of parables–the man who bought the field, the merchant who sold all he had for the pearl of great price. The only explanation in my book for this eccentric behavior was that the woman must have been crazy. Who throws a party for said lost funds after freaking out in an effort to find them? I don’t know about you, but the last thing I want to do after losing my mind over anything–no matter how trivial–is have a bunch of people over.
Unless…
Unless the thing that was unearthed was not only the coin, but a new understanding of the lost thing and my attachment to it. Maybe the field owner and the merchant aren’t crazy after all, satisfied with wisdom to see past what meets the eye. Maybe the frantic woman searching for her coin actually found more than she lost. If that’s true, you could make a good case for celebrating with abandon or purchasing the very field where the pearl of great price is secured, retiring from a career as a merchant who has made a life out of watching things come and go.
Ample opportunities
These ordinary pearls are strewn generously throughout our daily encounters–after all, what are pearls but bits of sand and (more often) parasites that have grown so irritating inside the shell of an oyster that the oyster covers and re-covers it until it is smooth:
The near collision at an intersection, the MRI that provided an evaluation of a current health risk, forgiveness between friends, the way parents linger by the bedside of their sleeping children. Seen with this wisdom, we might recognize a second chance rather than a jerk with road rage, a head start on a diagnosis rather than a poor prognosis, reconciliation rather than rift, gratitude in addition to exhaustion…each of these scenarios are pearls of the kind Jesus described as well as the wisdom Solomon was gifted.
That we all might be collectors and wearers of pearls.