Nothing is Ever Lost

Have you ever enjoyed a cup of coffee from one of these mugs? It’s a yellow Fire King mug. They were made by Anchor Hocking from 1942 to 1976. I think everyone had a set of them. Maybe yours were blue or green.

Perhaps you had one of these open-wheeled Formula One Dinky Toy cars manufactured by Meccano from 1934 to 1979. This one is a Ferrari. If you remember these, you’re getting old!

If you are a little bit younger, perhaps you reminisce over stuff like this, the Walkman/Discman, manufactured by Sony from 1984 to 2010. Can you even imagine life before Spotify?

We all have items that we remember with great fondness. We are all a bit sentimental. It’s usually not that those items have great intrinsic value, but that they have certain good memories attached to them.

The yellow Fire-King mugs mean so much to me because when I was 5 years old, and my mom and I were the first ones up in the morning, she would make me toast with peanut butter and sliced bananas, and a cup of coffee in a yellow Fire-King mug. I’m sure the coffee was mostly milk and sugar! The open wheel Dinky Toy race cars mean so much because when my family immigrated to Canada, we sold everything and brought very little with us. All that I brought were my teddy bear, named Teddy, my stuffed dog, named Doggo, and two open-wheel Dinky Toy race cars. When I am feeling sentimental about the passage of life, I wish there were a place where I could find all those old things again. Well…there is such a place…it’s called eBay, and I recommend that if you are sentimental, you stay away from it!

I have a strange recurring dream that involves some of these strange artefacts. In my dream, I am in a beautiful house. It might be one of the houses in which I grew up, and it might be a sort of dream-like combination of all my childhood houses. As I walk around the house, I begin to find things. Here is a set of yellow Fire-King mugs, and then I see the knives and forks we used when I was a child…in fact, all of my old dishes. I haven’t seen them in sixty years, but now I remember this pattern. Then I begin to find all my childhood toys, my Dinky Toys, the Ferrari, and the whole set, Teddy and Doggo! Then I find all my old clothes, my books, my shoes. And then I have this stunning revelation. Somebody has been following me throughout my life and gathering up every item I have ever used. All the things that I thought were lost were not lost; they have been saved, collected and gathered in this place. I am surrounded by every beautiful thing that I have ever had.

Then I step out of the front door of this beautiful house of gathered memories and onto a green lawn that leads down to a clear blue river. There are lush trees and wildflowers. I begin to walk down to the river, and as I do, I hear a dog barking and see a little black-and-brown Border Collie running towards me. It’s Goldy, the little dog who was so much a part of my childhood. Goldy jumps up on me and licks my face; she is as happy to see me as I am to see her. We walk together towards a bend in the river, and I begin to hear music; someone is playing the piano.

It’s Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. I have heard it so many times before. And there in a gazebo beside the river, sitting at a grand piano is my sister, Sharon. It has been so long since I last saw her. I am overjoyed, but also now overwhelmed by the strangeness of this place where all that I have lost has been found again. Sharon, a concert pianist, died at just 29 in 1986. I want to speak with her, but she gestures for me to keep walking. She says, “Come back in a bit, but there is more you should see now.”

Back down by the river, a man is standing at an easel. He is holding a palette knife and making broad strokes on a canvas. The oil paints create a distinctive smell that was so much a part of my childhood. It’s my dad, who died at the age of 91 in 2018, and I am so thankful to see him again. I run to speak with him, but he gestures for me to keep going. “Come back in a bit,” he says, “We will have a cup of tea, but for now, there is much more you should see.” And so, I continue to walk along the side of the river toward another bend, where I sense a great, warm light. And as I walk, I wonder to myself, “Who has gathered all these things. Who has gathered all the treasures of my life. Who has restored all the people whom I have ever loved?” But I know the answers. And, for a moment, I am filled with deep grief, but only for a moment, then there is only joy. I am in heaven, and my first great realization is that nothing was ever lost. Every good thing that ever was, still is, and will be for all eternity. Nothing good was ever lost. No person was ever lost. God, in an act of boundless love, has collected every precious thing and person and kept them safe for me. I continue to walk towards that next bend; the birds are singing in the trees. Then I am awakened by the singing of the birds outside, and I will have to wait another day to see what my sister and father wanted me to see.

Please don’t think that I imagine even for a moment that what I am sharing with you is a real description of heaven. It is just a sweet dream. What heaven truly is, is something even more wonderful than this! My dream is simply a description of a principle I believe is valid and supported by the Bible. The principle that nothing good is ever lost. What stays with me most from that dream is the joy, the overwhelming sense of wholeness and restoration when I find that nothing has been lost. All the good things were gathered up and held safely. All the lost people are ready to say, “I was not lost, I was waiting for you.”

Scripture has much to say about that which was lost being found again. Jesus knew that all the people he was talking to had lost something, or more importantly, had lost someone, and he wanted to assure them that all that was lost would be found again.

In Luke 15, three things have been lost: a sheep, a coin, and a son. In a few words, Jesus conveys the deep grief and sadness of each person who has lost something. Every person hearing these stories could easily relate to the emotions that come with loss. And each story ends with the recovery of the lost item and the wonderful joy that accompanies restoration. To recover something that was lost is truly a great joy.

Everyone loved the stories of finding the lost items, but in the context of Luke’s gospel, the deepest joy came not from finding the sheep or the coin, but from finding the lost son. That story means that all the lost people can be found, all the people deemed sinners can be restored, and all the lost dignity and worth can be given back. We have all lost so much through the difficult circumstances of life, but in the Kingdom of God, nothing is lost. All good things will be restored. And a great part of that restoration is the idea that we are returned to God when we are made whole, when our grief and brokenness are addressed with kindness, compassion and grace. It is often our sadness and disappointment with life that causes us to be disillusioned with God and to feel separate from God. God addresses our sadness directly to bring us home. We are not lost.

Psalm 56 says, “You have gathered all of my tears in a bottle, you have kept a record of them.” I think it is this passage, and the idea that God has gathered everything that I have lost, even my tears, that has inspired that strange dream of someone gathering all of my lost things and people. When you think that you are grieving alone, remember this: God is gathering every one of your tears. God is weeping with you, tear for tear, feeling all your pain with you. And when that day comes that God restores to you all that you lost, God will sit with you and say, “Nothing was ever lost.” And then God will bring out the vessel that contains every tear you have ever shed, and God will remember with you what each tear means. “Do you remember when you were 10, and your dog died? Here are the tears you shed for your beloved pet. Do you remember the day you fell off the jungle gym and broke your arm? Here are the tears you shed for that pain. Do you remember how you cried when your sister died? I have gathered those tears. Do you remember how you cried when your dad died? I have gathered those tears. I have gathered, counted, and recorded all your tears, and they are precious to me. I cried these tears with you”

What is lost? Not my silly mugs, or cars or any other artefact. Not a sheep or a coin, or even the prodigal son. It is that we appear to lose our loved ones to death. But they are not lost. They are in God’s safekeeping, and they will be restored to you. It is not just that God collects all our tears, but that God will restore all that is lost and wipe away all our tears.

Revelation 21:3-4 says, “See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them and be their God; he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.”

Ultimately, this sermon is about the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In his death, we see how much God loves and cares for us. In his resurrection, we see that death has no power over us. 1 Corinthians 15:25-26 says, “For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. The last enemy to be destroyed is death.” With death conquered, nothing is lost. Every good thing is restored.

As you think about God today, I encourage you to consider that God is not merely an external, omnipotent being far away. God is the love we feel for our mom and dad. God is the love we feel for our brothers and sisters. God is the love we feel for our children. God is the love we feel for our friends. 1 John 4:7-8 says, “Whoever loves is born of God and knows God, whoever does not love, does not know God, for God is love.” That love, the love you feel for those closest to you, is eternal. It has an eternal quality. Death has no power over it.

What have you lost? Who have you lost? I know you have all lost much. Your hearts have been broken. You have walked through the valley of the shadow of death. You have wept tears like a river. But one part of God’s promise is this. God promises to restore every good thing you have lost. God promises to wipe all the tears from your eyes. God promises there will be no more tears, no more pain, no more death. All of your good moments are eternal. They are not lost. In God’s safe keeping, they last forever.

I have a strange recurring dream. In my dream, I find all the things I have lost again. My yellow Fire King coffee mugs and my Dinky Toy race cars. Those are just silly things. But I also find all the people whom I have loved and lost. It may be just a sweet and silly dream, but the substance of it is true. No good thing is ever lost. No life is ever lost. Everything will be restored and made even more wonderful than it was in this world. And one night, I will stay asleep long enough to walk around that final bend in the river, and I will see Christ face to face, and Jesus will say, “Mark, let me wipe those tears from your eyes, and let me store them up with all your other tears that I have gathered.”