Luke 10
ABSChapter 10. The Parables of Divine Mercy(Part 2)In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents. (Luke 15:10)The three parables of the 15th chapter of Luke are a trinity of divine love and mercy. Like the Scripture itself, they cannot be broken and never should be divided. While each has its separate lesson, they form a glorious unity of truth and grace and a picture of God which is fitted to move and attract every sinner’s heart. It is like the photograph which a loving mother, seeking for her long-lost daughter, hung up on the dance halls of a great city, hoping that someday her wandering child would see it and come home. So the Son of Man has hung up this picture of divine mercy to attract and win back to God the lost sheep and the wandering prodigals of this sinful world. Let us look first at each of these parables in detail and then seek to gather up the lessons of the series.
Section I: the Good Shepherd, or the Mercy of Jesus Seeking the Lost
Section I—the Good Shepherd, or the Mercy of Jesus Seeking the LostLuk_15:3-7This beautiful picture centers around the person of Jesus. The sinner is represented by the foolish sheep, the weakest, most defenseless, and often the most unwise of all creatures; lost not through willful intention always, but through folly, wandering and neglect of the shepherd’s voice. When lost, the sheep is the least likely of all creatures to find itself, and the least able to take care of itself. “We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way” (Isaiah 53:6). We are represented in the parable as lost in the wilderness. It is a dangerous place, even with the fold around us and the Shepherd near; but without the Shepherd it is a dreadful place to be lost in. Fierce wolves, trackless wastes, wild tempests, impassable torrents, desolate mountains, and unsheltered wilds—these are the figures which portray the misery and perils of lost souls. The value of the lost one is strangely indicated by the contrast between one and 99. Only one was lost, but that one outweighed all the flock, for the moment of peril and need. Every individual soul is missed by the Shepherd, and is worth all His toil and love and suffering. But it is the picture of the Shepherd that stands out with most glorious vividness. The moment He discovers that one is lost, He immediately leaves the 99, and goes Himself to find it. He does not send but goes. He seeks the lost one. It tells of patient love. It tells of His long-suffering pains and toils. It tells of the 33 years of His earthly love and sorrow. It tells of the long journeys through Galilee and Judea, the weary summer days, the sleepless nights, the agony, and bloody sweat, the denial, the betrayal, the crucifixion, the hideous darkness of the cross, the hidden face of God, the fierce wolves that crept upon Him in His dying anguish from the dark wilderness of His sorrow, the strange horror of the burden of sin, the love that has still followed sinful men through all the years since then. The Shepherd seeks them now so patiently, and waits so long to be gracious, and follows until He finds. And then when He finds the lost sheep there is no upbraiding, no scourging. Gently He lifts it to His bosom. In its weakness, He carries it along. He does not even feel its heavy burden. He is so glad to find it that He carries it on His shoulders, rejoicing. And when He reaches home, He calls all heaven to rejoice because the lost is found. This is the picture of that matchless love, the seeking, saving, sacrificing, keeping, overcoming and everlasting love of the Lord Jesus Christ.
Section II: the Parable of the Lost Coin, or the Mercy of the Holy Spirit
Section II—the Parable of the Lost Coin, or the Mercy of the Holy SpiritLuk_15:8-10Here the lost soul is represented by the figure of a coin. This is one of the most familiar symbols of value; and perhaps, the most expressive to ordinary minds, to whom nothing seems so valuable as money. The soul is the precious coin. It still bears upon it the stamp of God. And although lost amid rubbish and dust, it still contains the precious gold, compared with which all other created things are poor and cheap. The seeker and finder is a woman; fitting type of the blessed Comforter, often represented, it would seem, under the image of a mother. The lost coin is one of the 10 which she has treasured, and for which she has no doubt a plan of wise investment. Everyone is needed and this lost one cannot be dispensed with. Every soul has its place in the divine plan, and is unspeakably and eternally precious. Until saved and restored, it is out of its true place, and something is lost in the full purpose of God. Like this woman, the Holy Spirit is the great seeker of lost souls. For 1,800 years the divine Comforter has been thus engaged, seeking in dark corners and unclean recesses for the immortal treasures which man has thrown away. The process of the search is instructive and expressive. The lighting of the candle suggests the work of spiritual illumination, the shining in of the truth upon the conscience and heart, the quickening of our spiritual apprehensions and convictions, the revealing to the soul, of sin and of God. The sweeping of the house has also its counterpart in the dealings of God with souls under conviction: the sharp and sudden trials that come, the knock of sickness, bereavement, disappointment or loss, upon the door of the closed heart, the shaking up of our circumstances, until we are compelled to look around us and realize our situation and awake to the consciousness of our danger. And all through this, the Spirit is seeking diligently, whispering to the heart, touching every chord of impression and aspiration, and drawing the soul to Jesus. How long the process sometimes lasts and how patiently the blessed Spirit waits till He finds the lost coin; and then the joy of the Holy Spirit over the newfound heart. This is the secret of the strange gladness that comes into the soul when truly converted. It is the joy of the Spirit overflowing into the consciousness of the sinner, until it becomes his joy, too.
Section III: the Parable of the Prodigal Son, or the Mercy of the Father
Section III—the Parable of the Prodigal Son, or the Mercy of the FatherLuk_15:11-32First, we see the picture of the sinner. What selfishness! “Father, give me my share of the estate” (Luke 15:12). What earthliness of desire—the portion of goods, the things that I can eat and drink, and wear, and enjoy with my senses! What self-will and false independence of control! He longs only to get away from the restraints of authority, to be his own free master, only to find at last that he has become a slave. What heartlessness, and alienation from his father’s love! He goes as far as he can from his home, and suffers no thought of compunction for the father’s feelings, or consideration for a father’s love. What profligacy and riotous living! He wasted his substance; spent all. How myriads of young men today are just wasting their strength and life, expending their God-given powers in the exhaustion and self-destruction of base indulgence. What misery at last! “After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need” (Luke 15:14). How soon the cup of pleasure is drained. How soon even our own natures refuse to reward indulgence with delight. How soon lust ends in satiety and disgust; and that which administered pleasure becomes a stinging pain and torture. Not even the husks of the swine are afforded him. There comes a time when even the basest and coarsest gratifications lose their power to please, and the soul feels that it is starving; and even if surrounded with everything in the universe, it would seem to be perishing of hunger. What shame and disgrace! “He went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs” (Luke 15:15). He is a poor slave of Satan, and the devil uses him only for the meanest purposes. How many men that might have been useful today, and honorable, if they had only obeyed the Father’s commands and trusted the Father’s love, are pouring out alcoholic swill to feed the filthy swine that swarm the barroom, and yet they are unable to take any pleasure from it, but are living a life of constant torment and self-reproach, because of their wasted youth and opportunities. And finally, how complete the wreck: “when he came to his senses” (Luke 15:17)! It looks as if even reason had been dethroned. The sinner is a madman and a fool. And when he comes to his senses he feels as one that is awakened from a dream of insane delusion and desperate folly. His Repentance and Return The first step was his coming to his senses. It suggests the first moment of reflection. At length, after the wild rush of years, he stops for a moment and begins to think. It is the first pause of his headlong heart since he left his father’s home. Oh, if souls would only think, God could speak to them, and mercy could still reach them. The next strand in the cord of love that at length brought him home, was the thought of his father. “How many of my father’s hired men have food to spare” (Luke 15:17). It is the thought of God’s love and grace that always prompts true repentance. Next is the question of his own misery. “I am starving to death” (Luke 15:17). At length he realizes his true situation, and is willing to confess to himself his failure and misery. And everything that he has called pleasure and freedom, he sees at last to be a cruel mockery and a hideous dream. Then comes that which must always accompany any true return, the purpose of his will: “I will set out and go back to my father” (Luke 15:18). If men would only realize that their choices and purposes are the true helms of life. Anyone can be saved who simply wills it. Then comes the spirit of humility, penitence and readiness to confess his fault. “I will… say to him: Father, I have sinned” (Luke 15:18). There is nothing degrading in a sincere confession. There is nothing more manly and noble than an honorable apology for a mistake; and penitence is simply a becoming apology to our glorious and gracious Parent, and is necessary for our own true self-respect, as well as for any just or lasting pardon. Yet with all this, there was much that was wrong in the spirit and repentance of the prodigal. There was much of pride still lingering in his heart, and he was really determined to buy his way back to his father’s favor; or, at least, to earn some place as a servant at his board. It was a self-righteous idea which always clings to the fallen heart. I will do something to deserve God’s mercy. “I will… say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son” (Luke 15:18-19). This is all right, but “make me like one of your hired men” (Luke 15:19) is the very self-righteousness which Christ and His apostles declared shut the Pharisees out of the kingdom of heaven. It is the sinner still comforting himself with the thought that he is going to do better, and somehow make up for his past misdeeds by trying to serve God. Happily, when he got back, his father choked all this out of him before he was able to utter it. He let him say, “I have sinned… and am no longer worthy to be called your son,” and then he stopped short all the rest of his studied speech by his overflowing welcome, and his fatherly reconciliation (Luke 15:21-22). Therefore although our penitence may be imperfect, and our faith be weak and faltering, let us come the best we can. This is the beautiful teaching of this parable, and it comes out with still more force in the next division. His Reception and Reconciliation First, it was immediate. The father did not wait until he got back, and stood in the reception room and made an ample apology. Before he heard a word from his lips, when he saw him still a great way off in the distance, he ran to meet him, and, without a particle of reserve, manifested by his actions his overflowing welcome and forgiving love. So God meets on the way the first desire and endeavor of the penitent soul to return to Him, and even before we are conscious of the truth in its divine clearness, somehow, our heart has been made to feel that He is ready to receive us graciously, and love us freely. Next, it was cordial and gracious. “His father… was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him” (Luke 15:20). It was not only a gracious acquittal, but a full hearty forgiveness. When God saves a sinner, He does not merely tolerate him, but He loves him with all His heart. Further, it was not only gracious, but it was free. No word of any conditions was suffered. As we have seen, the ungenerous speech which the son had meditated, offering to pay his way, or earn his living as a servant, was not allowed to be uttered; but, by the father’s free, unconditional mercy, he was welcomed and perfectly restored. So the sinner is received—not because of the service he is going to render, not because of the love he is going to show, not because of the value he is going to prove, but absolutely and wholly through the divine mercy, and for the sake of the atoning sacrifice of the Lord Jesus Christ, our perfect Ransom and our only plea. Again, it was paternal. The father would not suffer him to be a servant, or anything else than a very child. He immediately commands that the symbols of sonship will be put upon him—the best robe, the ring of affection, the shoes of dignity, the feast of honor, and the assurance, “For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found” (Luke 15:24). And so the soul that returns to Christ cannot go half way, and cannot stay in the kitchen and in the fields of servile bondage. There is only one place, and that is in the Father’s arms, and at the Father’s table. Nothing less than complete sonship is provided or permitted for the most vile and unworthy of God’s ransomed ones. Marvelous grace, unspeakable dignity! This moment reeking in sin, clothed in rags; the next, seated in honor and purity as heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, and saying with rapturous wonder, “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!” (1 John 3:1). The best robe expressed perfect justification, and divine holiness. The ring is the token of covenant love. The shoes are marks of honor; slaves always walked with naked feet. The feast tells of the joy and gladness to which God receives His restored children. And the father’s word proclaims how mighty the transformation, how terrible the ruin, and how literally the salvation of the soul is life from the dead.
Section IV: Conclusion
Section IV—ConclusionThe first lesson which we are taught by this series of parables is the preciousness of the human soul. This is presented under the image of the lost sheep which was almost as dear as a child to an Oriental shepherd; of a lost coin, which with many people is the supreme standard of value; and of a lost son, which is the climax of all that the human heart holds dear. The lost soul is as dear to God as the sheep to its tender shepherd, the precious treasure to the men and women who make it the supreme object of their life, and the fondly loved child for whom a father or mother would give all the world. Still further there is a heightening scale of value and appreciation shown in the parables in the fact that in the first it is one out of 100 that is lost; in the second it is one out of 10; but in the third it is one out of two, intimating that when God lost the human race He lost one-half of the things of value in this entire universe. The next lesson we are taught is the love of God for sinners. The whole Trinity is revealed here in the fullness of divine love. The Parable of the Prodigal Son tells of the love of the Father. The Parable of the Good Shepherd tells of the love of the Son. The Parable of the Woman tells of the love of the Holy Spirit. Father, Son and Holy Spirit are all working and waiting to save the lost sinner if he will only come. There is a strange and touching picture here of the heavenly world and its interest in the salvation of men. What efforts men have made through the telescope to get one little glimpse of yonder worlds of space. How poor the light that even the finest telescope sheds on those celestial realms. But Christ has given us here one glimpse of heaven at the very moment when the tidings arrive that a lost son has been found. All heaven is overcome with joy; the angels rejoice, the Father rejoices, the Son rejoices, the Holy Spirit rejoices. God is not ashamed to show His joy “in the presence of the angels” (Luke 15:10), and there are other beings that rejoice still more. There is the mother whose last message was one of loving appeal that you should turn to God. There is the wife who walked by your side and whose beckoning hands are calling you to come home. There is the little child that left the gates ajar for you to follow. Oh, the tender, sacred cords that are drawing sinners home. The next lesson is what we might call the theology of salvation. I was once asked by a Unitarian why men could not be saved by the Parable of the Prodigal Son and what need there was for all this talk about the atonement in view of the picture Christ Himself has given us of the Father’s love and willingness to save. The Holy Spirit immediately suggested the answer. “The Parable of the Son is not complete in itself, but follows the Parable of the Good Shepherd. The father could not welcome his lost child back until first the Shepherd, by His sufferings, opened the way. The three parables together constitute the gospel message. The Savior must suffer and die, the Spirit must seek and find and then the sinner comes home and the Father welcomes him to His heart.” The part of the sinner in the process of salvation is made very plain here. First he must see his condition, his misery, his sin and come to himself. Next he must resolve and choose to return to God. It is not “I feel,” but “I will” that turns the scale. “I will set out and go back to my father” (Luke 15:18). The salvation of every soul is a matter for his individual choice. It is simply making up your mind and then going. Then, of course, there is repentance. “I have sinned…. I am no longer worthy to be called your son” (Luke 15:18-19). There is nothing more honorable on the part of a gentleman than a manly apology for his fault. Repentance is just an honorable acknowledgment to God that we are wrong and a fixed purpose to change our way and turn from our sin. Finally, we have a humbling view, at the close of the last parable, of something worse even than the sinner’s sin, namely: the uncharitableness of the older brother who refused to join in the welcome to the prodigal and threw the shadow of his selfishness across that happy scene. He had his punishment in being shut out from the festival by his own spirit. Yes, the worst of all sins is the sin of lovelessness. God save us from the curse of religious selfishness and give to us the spirit of Him who came to “seek and to save what was lost” (Luke 19:10).