Joy in Heaven; or, Lost, Sought, and Found.

By:
Luke 15:7‑10
A boy living at a favorite seaside resort had gone into the water to bathe. Unknown to him, a strong back-going current was running, by no means easy to stem. Long and hard the brave lad struggled, but he was unable to overcome ebbing tide, and in spite of his arduous exertions, was carried some distance out to sea. A vessel bound for another port happened to be passing. The man on the look-out caught sight of an object in the water. A boat was instantly lowered, and pulled to his assistance, just in time, to save him. Thus the boy, who had narrowly escaped drowning, was picked up, and taken on board the ship. The sailors were very kind to him, one supplying him with one article of clothing, another fetching another, till he was rigged cut in a rather odd-looking, though not uncomfortable sort of attire.
That evening a gentleman, walking along the beach near where the boy had undressed, found his clothes lying on the shore. He looked here, and, sought there, but all in vain. No appearance of the boy was anywhere to be seen, nor could any tidings of him whatever be obtained. In the pocket of his coat, however, was discovered a piece of paper which revealed who the owner was, and where he resided. With a heavy heart the finder went to break the sad news to the fond parents. He said to the father he was sorry to have to tell him, he had found those clothes on the shore, but had, been unable to get any trace of the lad to whom they belonged, and almost feared he had been drowned. The father was speechless with grief, the mother well-nigh frantic with sorrow. They repaired to the spot. They searched and searched again, up and down, backwards and forwards, but to no purpose. They called and called, but only to be mocked by the echo of their own voices. It was long and late before the loving mother, always the last to give in, lost hope, and was obliged to resign herself to the inevitable. For alas! neither sight, nor sign, nor sound of their darling boy rewarded their persevering efforts. The mother spent her time in crying, the father’s heart was crushed, the other children wept for their missing brother, and everything was ordered for the house to go into mourning.
On the arrival of the vessel at its destination, another was about to start on the return voyage. The lad was transhipped, and taken back to his native place. No sooner had he put his foot on land than off he set towards his father’s house. He did not like to be seen in the strange cap, jacket, and shoes given him by the crew, and took the least frequented way. At last the hall door was reached. He both rang and knocked. The servant opened, and seeing who it was, screamed out with joy, “Here is Raster Fred!” The father rushed out, and with tears of delight embraced his son whom he had given up for lost, covering him with kisses. The mother fainted—it was too much for her; but on recovery her joy knew no bounds Who can describe the happiness of that family circle? or the delightful evening they all spent―parents and children ―together! The ordered mourning arrived, but was never used. It was a never-to-be-forgotten scene of unmingled rejoicing.
But wonderful as all this is, what is it my reader, to the joy in heaven over the return of a sinner? What is it to the Father exclaiming, “And let us eat and be merry; for this my son was dead, and is alive again, was lost, and is found”? Oh, think of God saying that! For this is God’s own joy, and He will have His joy in spite of all the murmurings of Scribes, Pharisees, or elder brothers, in welcoming back the wanderer, even kissing him in his rags, and there is not another that would not have thought of the rage before he kissed him but his father. Nothing could exceed the perfection of the grace that is here manifested without stint, without reproach, and without reserve. All is pictured in this, heaven-breathed parable of Divine love the departure, the search, and the reception―the sad leaving, the patient seeking, and the joyous homecoming.
But what a tale it tells of the real condition of every sinner, high or low, rich or poor, educated or illiterate, who has departed from God. And what is that condition? One word suffices―
LOST.
The lips of eternal truth have left no doubt on that subject. Every figure chosen by the blessed Saviour emphasizes the same solemn fact. Three times over it is here stated with unmistakable clearness. The comparisons are―a lost sheep―a lost piece of silver―a lost son. Lost! lost! lost!!!
Friend, your state is serious. It is not a temporary injury that has befallen you―not some slight breach which you can repair― not some lapse out of which you can recover yourself―not a simple wound which you or your fellowman can heal. You are lost. You may be amiable and polite, but you ‘are lost. You may be beautiful and idolized, but you are lost. You may be intelligent and learned, but you are lost. You may be affectionate and benevolent, but you are lost. You may be moral, yea, even religious, like the Pharisees, but you are lost. Do you say, “I do not mean to be lost.” Christless reader, according to the words of the Saviour of the lost, you are lost now. Do you ask, “Is there no hope”? Yes, but not from you. There is not only hope but salvation, thank the Lord! Still, though, for you, it is not from you. Your condition is such that nothing but the death of Christ could meet it. The Shepherd had to give His life. It was He who said, “The good Shepherd giveth his life for the sheep,” and, as you know, that He did on the cross. Now do you acknowledge in His presence that you are lost, and honestly take that place before God? If so, I have something else to tell you. You are SOUGHT.
Just because you are lost, God the Father, God the Son, and God the Spirit are seeking for you. The very object of this tripartite parable is to let you know the blessed activity of the quenchless love that goes after the lost, a quest too, wonderful to say, that engages every Person of the Godhead. Is this not contrary to all your vain imaginings? You reply, “Indeed it is, for I always thought God could only look upon me to condemn me, and I dreaded to think of Him.” Quite so, it is the lie of the enemy, whose device is to keep you at a distance from your only real Friend, for you are not even your own friend.
But you ask, “Do you mean to say that God loves me, a sinner, and wants me as I am?” That is what I do mean, and most positively affirm. What saith the Scripture? “For God commendeth his love towards us, that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us,” and the “Son of Man is come to seek” as well as to “save that which was lost”; and remember, the “Scriptures cannot be broken.”
Is not “lost” just what you are? Well, then, God commendeth His love toward you: Think of the feelings of the parents towards that lost boy! How they yearned over him! How they sought for him! How they mourned his loss! That is earthly love’ But what is it to God’s love? God is love, and being God, He will be love. Why remain away from Him? God vindicates Himself in being good to sinners. If a shepherd seeks a lost sheep, and a woman a lost piece of silver, has He not a right to seek the lost? He has, and, blessed be His name, He does, yea, finds His very joy in doing so, because He loves the sinner. Neither the lost sheep nor the lost piece of money could do anything. The losers were the seekers, and God seeks the lost. But, strange to say, the natural heart objects to Him seeking sinners. Yet, had He only sought the righteous, what would have become of us? Because “the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all,” it is the grace, that imputes nothing, which enables the soul to tell itself out unreservedly, when it knows there is forgiveness, not blame, for all that is discovered. Come, then, as you are to the seeking God; not to be judged, but to be justified; not to be condemned, but to be blessed; not to be cast out, but to be saved; for I have something still to tell. Not only are you lost and sought, but you may be
FOUND.
The shepherd said, “Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost.” The woman said, “Rejoice with me, for I have found the piece which I had lost.” And the father said, “It was meet that we should make merry and be glad, for this thy brother was dead and is alive again, and was lost and is found.” You ask me, “Is that God?” I answer, Yes, that is God, the whole Trinity, so to speak, mirrored in the shepherd, the woman, and the father. Do you not realize the depth of His interest in you? Would you be afraid to be blessed by Him? How can you keep at a distance? The wonder is you can remain away a moment longer. Is it possible you can refrain from saying, “I will arise and go to my Father?” Have you arisen? He sees you, even “a great way off.” Oh, those eyes of love! And when you have said not only “I will arise,” but determined to say, “Father, I have sinned, and am no more worthy,” what will you find? That the next instant He is on your neck, reproaching you? No, but kissing you. The very first conscious dealing with God is a kiss, whatever the previous workings in the soul may have been. And what is a kiss? It is an intimation of affection on the part of one who gives it. A kiss is an expression of endearment. It is a token of love. “But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion on him, and ran, and fell on his neck and kissed him.” You ask me: “Is that prodigal I? Does he represent me?” I reply, Yes, you, you or any other “one sinner that repenteth.”
You ask again, “Is that father, God?” I answer, Emphatically so, that is God, and God is love. Not only eyes of love that saw, but heart of love that had compassion, feet of love that ran, embrace of love that fell on his neck, and lips of love that kissed. Oh, the untold meaning of that reconciliation kiss! No sooner has the Father heard the wanderer’s confession of sin and unworthiness, than He calls for the “best robe,” the “ring,” and the “shoes.” It is no question of the worthiness of the erring child, but, what is worthy of the Father. “But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet.” Now, observe, this is not what is done in him, important as that is in its place. All this is put on him, and the Spirit takes pains to state it so. What is wrought within gives the capacity to enjoy all this, but it is not that in which I appear there.
This is the Father’s provision for the returned confessed, forgiven, and reconciled sinner in the Son of His love; so that he can be with the Father in His house as grand as anybody there. Like the thief on the cross of whom the Saviour said, “Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.” The “best robe” is Christ Himself, or “accepted in the beloved.” The “ring” is the emblem of everlasting love that has neither beginning nor end. And the “shoes” are the badge of sonship, for no servant in that country was allowed into the master’s presence with sandals on, that being the sole privilege of his own children. A “hired servant” might suit the prodigal, but not the heart of the father. He must have him there as a son. Then, through what was for him “in Christ,” entitling him to be in God’s presence according to God’s very nature, immediately the Father has made him suitable for His own eye, he is inside the house, and what follows? Not now “bring forth,” but “bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it, and let us eat and be merry.” He had been already kissed, robed, ringed, and sandaled, now he is feasted. And what a scene of festivity, mirth, and gladness it is! It passes description.
A wonderful time of joy most surely it was when the missing lad presented himself at his father’s house, but God’s reception of the sinner through Christ puts all human welcomes into the shade. If this is being found, would you, my reader, not like to be found? Come back, then, thou erring one! O wanderer, return. What a joy to be found! True, but the joy of God, the Finder, exceeds everything. This is grace. This is the gospel, and it is for you.
“Love was the spring of all,
Love triumphed o’er our fall,
The love of God!
My soul, this love adore,
And praise forever more;
Yea, sound from shore to shore
The love of God!”
W. S. F.