Luke 15:8

THE LOST COIN

‘Either what woman having ten pieces of silver, if she lose one piece, doth not light a candle, and sweep the house, and seek diligently till she find it.’

Luke 15:8

Dust flying, confusion reigning, a woman, with a lighted candle, searching in the dark corners of the house—it is a strange picture certainly. But it is one of the most striking that the Divine Artist ever painted.

I. The lost coin.—Observe, this coin was dropped, not ‘in the depths of the unfathomed sea,’ not in the highway of the world without, not on some wild and trackless moor, but in the house. Within the house it surely might be found: recovery was not hopeless. And what house is here intended but the Church.

(a) This coin upon the floor was useless. Current coin of the realm is intended to be used. Even so, Christian, if you are living in worldliness and self-indulgence, you are dead while you live—dead, at least, to usefulness.

(b) Further observe, that this piece of silver was without doubt defaced. Do men take knowledge of us that we have been with Jesus? Or has contact with the world obliterated all traces of the Divine likeness in our souls?

(c) Notice, again, that this coin was dishonoured. There it lay, amid dirt and rubbish, trodden under foot. If your destiny is so high, you will not be suffered to slumber thus. If you are a saint indeed, and yet are fallen in this world’s dust, Christ’s broom and candle are not far off your soul.

II. The search.—There are two parts in this process, both of which are instructive.

(a) The first thing to be done was to light a candle. You can find nothing in the dark. ‘At that time, saith the Lord, I will search Jerusalem [not Babylon] with candles, and will punish the men that are settled on the lees: that say in their heart, The Lord will not do good, neither will He do evil’ (Zephaniah 1:12). Well, if it be so, better be judged now than condemned hereafter. Let us have no part dark, no wicked way, no unmortified lust, no secret pride, no long-cherished grudge, no shrinking from the cross, no love of filthy lucre.

(b) The candle, however, is not the only instrument that the Holy Spirit used. A broom is needed. Christ must sweep as well as illumine. We know the first effect of the use of the broom. The dust flies in clouds. The first effect of the approach of God’s Spirit to the soul with broom and candle is always to raise the dust. Don’t imagine it can be otherwise. God’s plan is not to cover over evil, but to bring it to the surface and get rid of it. What though the dust does fly; cannot the Great Housekeeper cleanse it? Has He no recipe to lay the dust? He has an unfailing remedy—‘No wound has the soul that Christ’s blood cannot cure.’

Rev. E. W. Moore.

(SECOND OUTLINE)

THE PRECIOUSNESS OF EACH SOUL

This is a parable of the love of God. God represents Himself as missing one soul. God would show to us that each soul is precious. Each one was separately created; each one has a place designed for it in the universal temple; each one not filling that place leaves a blank. The eye of love misses it, and therefore the hand of love seeks it.

I. God’s love lights a lamp of revelation in the world.—Though you may care little about your lost soul, God cares for it much. God has lit His candle—the candle of Divine revelation, and He is throwing its illumination upon you. We wonder you come here to church if you do not intend to be shone upon. There is that in you which cries out for God—which you cannot persuade to rest out of God’s light. Many a man feels without knowing what he wants. The Divine Master interprets. You want God’s love. Hinder not, thwart not God’s search for your soul. But love herself might light the candle, and yet the lost coin not be found under the long accumulation of dirt—of easily besetting sins and long-indulged habits. So the parable goes on to speak of a sweeping. It is a homely figure—beneath the dignity of this pulpit, some might say, only that here Christ has gone before.

II. The love of God sweeps the house, which is the man.—Is not this the real meaning of that sickness, that bereavement, that disappointment, which seemed to you so casual, or so wanton, or so cruel? The love of God had failed in its illumination. You suffered the dust of earth to lie thick upon you—perhaps the amiable dust of kindly sentiment, of satisfied affection, or perhaps the ugly dust of eager grasping, of over-mastering passion; and so evading the illumination you necessitated the sweeping. It was the love of God still. And now there comes into the very life’s life a stir and an agitation which cannot be disregarded. Now begin all manner of questionings from which previously you were free. While you cared not for God you took God for granted. All is confusion, added difficulty and conflict; you are passing now from death unto life, not passed. The love of God is at work, and will seek diligently till He find.

III. This seeking is unto finding.—Love will not stay till she finds. Help her, brethren, every one, in her gracious, her wonderful work. Help the joy of angels. Kick not against the goad. It drives till you will let it lead. Then all is peace, ‘quietness, and assurance for ever.’ To find the lost soul is not easy. The whole work of sanctification is wrapped up in it. Every thought has to be brought into captivity: every habit uncoined and re-nicked.

—Dean Vaughan.