A VERSE BY VERSE COMMENTARY ON LUKE 15 1-7, DEALING WITH THE LOST SHEEP THAT WAS FOUND AND RESTORED.

1. LUKE 15 1-7 COMME TARY
EDITED BY GLENN PEASE
The Parable of the Lost Sheep
1 ow the TAX collectors and sinners were all gathering
around to hear Jesus.
CLARKE, "Publicans and sinners - Τελωναι και ᅋµαρτωλοι, tax-gatherers and heathens; persons
who neither believed in Christ nor in Moses. See the note on Luk_7:36. Concerning the tax-gatherers,
see the note on Mat_5:46.
GILL, "Then drew near to him,.... To "Jesus", as the Persic and Ethiopic versions express it: this
was on the sabbath day, and either when he was in the Pharisee's house, where he was invited to
dinner, Luk_14:1 or rather when he came out of it, when the multitude, who could not come near him
whilst there, took the opportunity of gathering about him;
even all the publicans and sinners; whom the Pharisee would not admit into his house, it being
contrary to their traditions to eat, and drink, and converse with persons of such an infamous
character; See Gill on Mat_9:10, Mat_9:11 The word "all" is omitted in the Vulgate Latin, Syriac,
Persic, and Ethiopic versions; but the Arabic version has it, and the Greek copies; and signifies that
there were a very large number of them, even all that were in that place, and in the adjacent cities and
towns, that got together
for to hear him, or "from him", as the Arabic version; or "doctrine" from him, as the Persic version
adds: these having heard much of him; and it may be, might be under some remorse of conscience on
account of their vicious lives, came to hear him preach.
HE RY, "Here is, I. The diligent attendance of the publicans and sinners upon Christ's ministry.
Great multitudes of Jews went with him (Luk_14:25), with such an assurance of admission into the
kingdom of God that he found it requisite to say that to them which would shake their vain hopes.
Here multitudes of publicans and sinners drew near to him, with a humble modest fear of being
rejected by him, and to them he found it requisite to give encouragement, especially because there
were some haughty supercilious people that frowned upon them. The publicans, who collected the
tribute paid to the Romans, were perhaps some of them bad men, but they were all industriously put
into an ill name, because of the prejudices of the Jewish nation against their office. They are
sometimes ranked with harlots (Mat_21:32); here and elsewhere with sinners, such as were openly
vicious, that traded with harlots, known rakes. Some think that the sinners here meant were heathen,
and that Christ was now on the other side Jordan, or in Galilee of the Gentiles. These drew near, when
perhaps the multitude of the Jews that had followed him had (upon his discourse in the close of the
foregoing chapter) dropped off; thus afterwards the Gentiles took their turn in hearing the apostles,
when the Jews had rejected them. They drew near to him, being afraid of drawing nearer than just to
come within hearing. They drew near to him, not, as some did, to solicit for cures, but to hear his
excellent doctrine. Note, in all our approaches to Christ we must have this in our eye, to hear him; to
hear the instructions he gives us, and his answers to our prayers.

2. JAMISO , "Luk_15:1-32. Publicans and sinners welcomed by Christ - Three parables to explain
this.
drew near ... all the publicans and sinners, etc. — drawn around Him by the extraordinary
adaptation of His teaching to their case, who, till He appeared - at least His forerunner - might well
say, “No man careth for my soul.”
JOSEPH BENSON, “Luke 15:1. Then drew near unto him all the publicans and sinners — That is, some of all the
different classes of publicans, or all those of that place, and some other notorious sinners; for to hear him — Being
influenced to do so through the condescension and kindness which he manifested toward all descriptions of
persons, the most abandoned not excepted. Some suppose they came by a particular appointment from all the
neighbouring parts. But as Luke goes on in the story, without any intimation of a change, either in the time or the
in their
office, a more convenient opportunity of attending.And the Pharisees and scribes murmured, &c. — Thinking this
behaviour of our Lord inconsistent with the sanctity of a prophet, they were much displeased with him for it, and
murmured at that charitable condescension, which ought rather to have given them joy.
TRAPP, "VER 1. All the publicans and sinners] Christ familiarized himself with these despised
persons, and thereby much won upon them. Affability easily allureth, austerity discourageth; as it did
that honest citizen, which having in himself a certain conflict of conscience, came to Master Hooper the
martyr’s door for counsel; but being abashed at his austere behaviour, dared not come in, but departed,
seeking remedy of his troubled mind at other men’s hands.
LANGE, "Luk_15:1. All the publicans and sinners.— ÉÉÜíôåò , not in the sense of all manner of
(Heubner, a. o.), but a popular way of speaking, with which the collective mass of all the there present
publicans and sinners is designated. Comp. Luk_4:40.—Drew near unto Him.—The common
explanation: were wont to draw near unto Him (De Wette), is grammatically not necessary, and has this
disadvantage, that thereby the connection with that which precedes is unnecessarily given up. Better:
They were at this moment occupied with this matter of coming to Him, and that with the distinct
intention of hearing Him. We have therefore to represent to ourselves an audience which, at the time of
the Saviour’s departure from Galilee, had apparently streamed together in a public place, and the
majority of which consisted of publicans and sinners, who, at the moment, had pressed before the
Pharisees, and by that fact excited their bitterness.
COFFMAN, “This, one of the most beloved chapters of the word of God, isAN ACCOUNT of what was
probably a single discourse of Jesus Christ, the whole theme of which was "The Lost." First there was the lost
sheep (Luke 15:1-7), then the lost coin (Luke 15:8-10), and finally the two lost sons. It was the Saviour who rescued
the lost sheep, the church (under the figure of a woman) who sought the lost coin, and the Father who patiently
awaited the return of the prodigal, reinstated him with honor, and then went out and entreated the older brother.
Since the church is the temple of the Holy Spirit (1 Corinthians 6:19), theACTIVITY of the entire Godhead
appears here as engaged in the redemption of the lost.
There are four ways to become lost, and all of them are evident in this remarkable sermon. The sheep was lost by
wandering away from the flock, the coin was lost through no fault of its own, but through the inability or
carelessness of the woman. The prodigal was lost by overt and willful disobedience; and the elder brother was lost
through pride, selfishness, and self-righteousness.
Now all the publicans and sinners were drawing near unto him to hear him. And both the Pharisees and
scribes murmured, saying, this man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them. (Luke 15:1-2)
"Jesus hadALREADY expounded the reasons for his moving "into the streets and lanes of the city" (Luke 14:21)
to include the sinners and publicans as objects of the divine mercy; and, in this great chapter, the rationale behind
his holy actions was revealed. Even aSINGLE sheep, or a single coin, was something of eternal value in the

3. eyes of the Father. God loves every man.
This man receiveth sinners ... Unconsciously, his enemies spoke in these words the Master's highest praise.
Intended by them as a slander, the words have been treasured by the church of all ages as glorious and eternal
truth. Set to music, and sung in ten thousand congregations of worshipers, these words have blessed millions.
Sinners Jesus will receive; Sound this word of grace to all Who the heavenly pathway leave, All who linger, all who
fall.
Sing it o'er and o'er again: Christ receiveth sinful men; Make the message clear and plain: Christ
receiveth sinful men![1]SIZE>
And eateth with them ... See under Luke 9:19 for an extended list of the slanders against Jesus. The
attitude of those self-righteous leaders of the people who held themselves to be so far above the
common class of sinners was in itself the worst of sins, and Jesus made it the climax of this sermon
on the lost, as exemplified by the older brother in the third parable.
ENDNOTE:
[1]TRANSLATED from Neumeister, "Sinners Jesus Will Receive," Great Songs of the Church
(Cincinnati, Ohio: Standard Publishing Company, 1937), No. 210.
WHEDON, “The TRIAD OF PARABLES in, behalf of the Peraean Publicans and Sinners.
1. Then drew near—We suppose these transactions to have taken place in the Peraean ministry of our Lord, of
which Bethabara was probably the rallying point. This, being near Jericho and the fords of the Jordan, with their
custom-houses, many publicans and sinners would be in the neighborhood, to whom the preaching of our Lord
presented powerful attractions. This section too was more plentifully stocked with aliens and Gentiles, who,
mingling with the irreligious Jews, constituted in all probability the sinnershere named inCONNECTION with
the publicans. We therefore do not quite coincide with Stier and Alford, who understand Luke as merely affirming a
general fact that publicans and sinners were in the habit in different places of attending the Lord’s ministry. On the
contrary, we rather hold that the discourses of this entire chapter and the next took place on a very special day,
namely, the closing day of his ministry in Peraea. See note on Luke 13:32. It forms, indeed, a key to the entire
passage, Luke 15:1to Luke 17:10, to note that among the Gentile and publican population in thisREGION there
was a general turning toward Christ, and that he is earnestly sustaining them against the cavils and sneers of the
Pharisees.So also chapters 14 and Luke 18:9-14.
PULPIT COMMENTARY, "Luk_15:1, Luk_15:2
Then drew near unto him all the publicans and sinners for to hear him. And the Pharisees and scribes
murmured, saying, This Man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them; more accurately rendered, there
were drawing near to him. This was now, in the last stage of the final journey, the usual state of things.
The great outside- class came in crowds to listen to Jesus. These were men and women who, through
home and family associations, through their occupations, which were looked upon with disfavour by
the more rigid Jews, often no doubt through their own careless, indifferent character, had little or
nothing to do with their religious and orthodox countrymen. Poor wanderers, sinners, thoughtless ones,
no one cared for them, their present or their future. Do not these in every age make up the majority?
The religious, so often Pharisees in heart, despising them, refusing to make allowances for them,
looking on them as hopelessly lost ones. But at no time was this state of things so accentuated as when
Jesus lived among men. Now, among such care. less irreligious men and women, are man whose hearts
are very tender, very listen if the teacher of religion has Mud, wise words for them. The grave and
severe, yet intensely pitiful and loving, doctrines of the Galilaean Master found such. His words were
words of stern rebuke, and yet were full of hope, even for the hopeless. No man had ever spoken to
them like this Man. Hence the crowds of publicans and sinners who were now ever pressing round the

4. Master. But the teachers of Israel, the priestly order, the learned and rigid scribes, the honoured doctors
Of the holy Law,—these were indignant, and on first thoughts not without reason, at the apparent
preference felt for and special tenderness shown by Jesus to this great outside class of sinners. The
three parables of this fifteenth chapter were the apologia of the Galilaean Master to orthodox Israel, but
they appeal to an audience far greater than any enclosed in the coasts of the Holy Land, or living in that
restless age,
ELLICOTT, “(1) Then drew near unto him . . .—Better, and all the publicans and the sinners were drawing near
to hear Him. There is not quite the same direct sequence in the Greek as in the English, but what follows comes
naturally after the mention of the “multitudes” in Luke 14:25. Publicans and sinners knew that Jesus had turned, as
in indignation, from the house of the Pharisee, and this, it may be, gave them courage to approach Him.
WILLIAM KELLY, " evertheless His words drew to Him the outcast and degraded, too
wretched not to feel and own their need. The tax-gatherers and sinners, instead of bearing a
repulse, were coming near, immensely attracted, to hear what they felt to be the truth, and what
conscience bowed to, though they had never heard it before. They heard, indeed, that which they
could not but perceive levelled the pretensions of proud men. For the Pharisees and scribes had
no notion of following Jesus any more than of coming to Him. They deified self in the name of
God. It was their own tradition they valued; and if they seemed to make much of the law, it was
not because it was of God, but because it was given to their fathers and identified with their
system. Their religion was a settled setting up of self - this was their idol. Hence they murmured
at the grace of Christ toward the wretched. For the ways of Christ, like His doctrine, levelled all
and showed, according to the subsequent language of St. Paul, that there is no difference. o
doubt the man who is in quest of his own passions and pleasures will neither go to Christ nor
follow after Him: still less will he who has got a religion of his own on which he plumes himself.
Grace goes down to the common level of ruin that sin has already made. It ADDRESSES man
according to the truth; and the truth is that all is lost. And where is the sense of talking of
differences if people are lost? How blind to be classifying among those who are cast into
perdition! To be there at all is the awful thing - not the shades of distinction in ways or character
that may be found among those who are there. The tremendous fact is that, having all equally
sinned against God and lost heaven, they are all equally consigned to hell.
But there is that also in the sayings of the Pharisees and scribes which shows that they, too, felt
the point of the truth, and what they resented most was grace. For they murmured saying, "This
[man] receiveth sinners380a and eateth with them." Indeed He does; it is His boast. It is the going
out of Divine love to receive sinners. And it was His grace as a man that deigned to eat with them.
Had He not done so, with whom could He have eaten at all? But in truth, if He deigned to eat
with men, He did not choose His company. He had come down and been manifested in the flesh
expressly to manifest the grace of God; and, if so, He received sinners and ate with them.
KRETZMA , "The fifteenth chapter of Luke is, as one commentator has called it, the golden
center of this Gospel, revealing in a wonderful way the love of the Savior for the lost and
condemned sinners. The Lord here exhibits the unspeakable riches of His merciful love to all
men, but especially to those that feel the need of that mercy. There were nearing to Him at that
time, the evangelist writes. As iron filings are attracted to a magnet, so the message of love and
forgiveness which Jesus proclaimed drew the broken hearts to His grace. It was not merely the
attraction of human sympathy and kindness, but it was the sweetness of the Savior's love and the
glorious promise of pardon, full and FREE. Publicans and sinners they were, despised and cast
out of the synagogues throughout the land; they were not permitted to associate on a plane of

5. equality with the Jews in good standing. But these outcasts came, not like the majority of the
other people, primarily for the purpose of witnessing miracles of various kinds, but to hear Him.
The blessed words of salvation attracted them; they could not hear enough of the healing message
which Christ proclaimed with unwearying kindness. Others, however, were present that had a
different opinion concerning such intimacy of the Lord with publicans and sinners. The Pharisees
and scribes murmured with indignation against Him, saying that He made Himself the equal of
the scum of the lowly people by receiving them and eating with them. The mocking and derisive
words of the Pharisees have now become the song of praise in the mouth of believing Christians:
"Jesus sinners doth receive!"
PULPIT, "Luk_15:1, Luk_15:2
A bitter charge the highest tribute,
The great Teacher himself said that the things which are highly esteemed among men may be
abomination in the sight of God; and we may safely assume that the converse of this proposition is true
also. Certainly, in this bitter charge brought against our Lord we now perceive the very highest tribute
which could be paid him.
I. A BITTER CHARGE AGAINST THE SAVIOUR. It is not easy for us to realize the intensity of the
feeling here expressed. The Jews, arguing from the general truth that holiness shrinks from contact with
guilt, supposed that the holier any man was, the more scrupulously would he avoid the sinner; and they
concluded that the very last thing the holiest man of all would do was to have such fellowship with
sinners as to "eat with them." Their patriotic hatred of the publican, and their moral repugnance toward
"the sinner," filled them with astonishment as they saw him, who claimed to be the Messiah himself,
taking up a positively friendly attitude toward both of these intolerable characters. Their error was, as
error usually is, a perversion of the truth. They did not understand that the same Being who has the
utmost aversion to sin can have and does have the tenderest yearning of heart toward the sinner; that he
who utterly repels the one is mercifully pitying and patiently seeking and magnanimously winning the
other. So the men of acknowledged piety and purity in the time of our Lord failed completely to
understand him, and they brought against him the charge which might well prove fatal to his claims—
that he was having a guilty fellowship with the outcast among men and the abandoned among women.
II. THE HIGHEST TRIBUTE TO THE SAVIOUR. In that attitude and action of his which seemed to
his contemporaries to be so unworthy of him we find the very thing which constitutes his glory and his
crown. Of course, association with sinners, on the basis of spiritual sympathy with them, is simply
shameful; and to break up their association with the intemperate, the licentious, the dishonest, the
scornful, is the first duty of those who have been their companions and have shared their wrong-doings,
but whose eyes have been opened to see the wickedness of their course. It is for such to say, "Depart
from me, ye evil-doers; for I will keel) the commandments of my God." But that is far from exhausting
the whole truth of the subject. For Christ has taught us, by his life as well as and as much as by his
Word, that to mingle with the sinful in order to succour and save them is the supreme act of goodness.
When a man's character has been so well established that he can afford to do so without serious risk
either to himself or to his reputation, and when, thus fortified, well armed with purity, he goes amongst
the criminal and the vicious and the profane, that he may lilt them up from the miry places in which
they are wandering, and place their feet on the rock of righteousness, then does he the very noblest, the
divinest thing he can do. It was this very thing which Jesus Christ came to do: "He came to seek and to
save that which was lost." It was this principle which he was CONTINUALLY illustrating; and nothing

6. could more truly indicate the moral grandeur of his spirit or the beautiful beneficence of his life than
the words by which it was sought to dishonour him: "This Man receiveth sinners, and eateth with
them." It is this which will constitute the best tribute that can be paid to any of his disciples now.
"There is nothing of which any true minister of Jesus Christ, whether professional or not, ought to be so
glad and so proud, as to be such that the enemies of the Lord shall say tauntingly, while his friends will
say thankfully, 'This man receiveth sinners.'"
III. THE GREATEST POSSIBLE ENCOURAGEMENT TO OURSELVES. There are men who know
they are sinners, but care not; there are those who do not know that they are guilty in the sight of God;
and there are others who do know and who do care. It is to these last that the Saviour of mankind is
especially addressing himself. To them all he is offering Divine mercy; restoration to the favour, the
service, and the likeness of God; everlasting life. On their ear there may fall these words, intended for a
grave accusation, but constituting to the enlightened soul the most welcome tidings—"This Man
receiveth sinners.'—C.
BIBLICAL ILLUSTRATOR, "This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them
Christ’s influence with the masses
The masses were drawn to Christ’s teachings.
I. THE REASO S FOR THIS ADMIRATIO .
1. All lack of affectation--no parade of greatness, no false assumption of humility. His manner
was what beauty is to the landscape, what the sublime, majestic repose of the ocean is to the
ocean’s greatness. His manner ever reflected the moral grandeur of His being.
2. The originality of His methods.
3. The grandeur and claims of His doctrines.
4. The authority with which He spoke.
5. The adaptation of style and matter to the people.
6. His profound earnestness.
7. His scathing denunciation of the hypocrisy of the ruling sects.
II. THE EFFORTS OF THE SCRIBES A D PHARISEES TO U DO THIS I FLUE CE. ot
because they loved men, but because of caste, of pride, and cold-hearted selfishness.

7. III. CHRIST’S MA ER OF MEETI G THIS OPPOSITIO . He takes every opportunity to
overcome their prejudice, and enlighten their minds, seeking to impress upon them the superior
glories of the new disport sation. (W. E.McKay.)
Christ receiving sinners
I. THE DESCRIPTIO OF SI ERS CHRIST WILL RECEIVE.
1. Sinners of all ages.
2. Sinners of all stations.
3. Sinners of all degrees.
II. I TO WHAT JESUS RECEIVES SI ERS.
1. Into His forgiving grace and favour.
2. Into His family.
3. Into His heaven.
III. THE WAY A D MA ER I WHICH CHRIST RECEIVES SI ERS.
1. In the way of acknowledgment and confession.
2. In the way of repentance, or turning from sin.
3. In the way of humility and faith.
ow as to the manner:
1. Most freely.
2. Most tenderly.
3. Most readily.
Application:

8. 1. The subject is one to which every believer’s heart responds.
2. The subject is full of encouragement to the inquiring sinner.
3. The subject is limited to the present life. Here only He receives. (J. Burns, D. D.)
This man receiveth sinners
These words were originally spoken as a reproach against our Lord. When we repeat them it is
with widely different feelings. They are to us a message of joy--nay, the only true grounds of joy
and hope to man.
I. THE PERSO S REFERRED TO. “This man”: “sinners.”
1. The contrast in its most general aspect. They--“sinners”--evildoers, violators of God’s law.
He--“holy; separate from sinners.”
2. Take the outward life of both. His--faultless, beneficent. Theirs--the reverse.
3. Consider the spirit of His life, and of theirs. Perfect love and confidence in God; perfect love
and devotion to the good of man. They, governed by selfishness; destitute of faith; living under
influence of impulse, passion, etc.
II. THE RELATIO EXPRESSED BETWEE THESE TWO CLASSES OF PERSO S.
1. What should you expect? A man is known by his companions. Like seeks like.
2. Yet, He receiveth sinners.
(1) To mercy and pardon.
(2) To grace and guidance.
(3) To love and friendship.
3. And all this He does
(1) freely;
(2) readily;
(3) eternally.

9. III. WHAT IS OUR I TEREST I THIS SUBJECT?
1. To some, none. But why, and how? Are they not sinners? How, then, can they be saved? Is
there another who can thus receive?
2. Do you fear to come? Why? Consider His words of invitation and promise. Consider His acts of
welcome and beneficence.
3. Are we received? See that you never abandon His protection. (W. R. Clark, M. A.)
Christ receiving sinners
I. WHO IT IS THAT RECEIVETH SI ERS?
1. “This man.” That Christ was “man,” may easily be shown from the united and ample
testimony of Scripture. Revelation makes no attempt to conceal this fact. It treats it as a matter
that is necessary to be known, and as fully and readily to be believed, as His essential and eternal
divinity. Godhead without manhood could have effected no atonement for the world’s
transgression.
2. But “this man” was Divine, He was God “manifested in the flesh,” combined all the glory of
the Deity with all the weakness of man--all the infirmities of the creature--with acts and
attributes splendid and incomprehensible! He was frail as flesh, yet omnipotent as God. Thus was
our nature infinitely enriched, though sin had beggared it of all worth.
3. “This man” gave to the universe the most amiable, attractive, and stupendous manifestation of
the Deity ever witnessed, a “manifestation” altogether different from any which had been
previously afforded. Here was no throne of sapphire, no city of pearl, no retinue of celestials, no
blaze of unapproachable brightness, no footpath on the firmament, no chariot rolling “on the
wings of the wind,” and studded with the stars of the skies. The majestic symbols of the presence
and power of the Infinite were kept back, and here was man in weakness, destitution, reproach,
suffering, and death. “This man” showed how low the Deity could stoop, how much the Deity
could love, how infinitely the Deity could redeem, with what frail and broken things the Deity
could rebuild His moral universe.
II. HOW THIS MA RECEIVETH SI ERS.
1. He “received” them universally; His arms of love are ready to embrace all.
2. “Christ received sinners “without upbraiding them on ACCOU T of their sins.

10. 3. Observe the delightful and blessed certainty that “sinners” have of being “received” by Him.
III. WHAT DOES CHRIST’S RECEPTIO OF SI ERS COMPREHE D? To what are they
received? The world receives its votaries, but only to oppress them with its vexations and vanities.
Satan receives sinners, but only to slavery and wretchedness. Doth Christ receive them? It is--
1. To a state of reconciliation with Himself; He casts around them His Divine complacency, makes
and calls them “His friends.”
2. Christ “receives sinners” into a state of holiness. He sanctifies all the powers of the intellect, all
the affections of the heart, and all the actions of the life.
3. Christ “receives” them under the special protection and guidance of His providence. They rest
under the pavilion of the Almighty Redeemer, are encircled as with a wall of fire, and fenced
round and defended by the angels of glory.
4. Christ “receives” them into the full immunities of His kingdom of grace. In that kingdom “all
things are theirs.”
5. Christ “receives the sinners” He thus sanctifies and blesses into heaven. This is the last and
greatest gift of God in Christ. This will perfect every holy principle and every religious joy. (E.
Horton.)
Jesus receiving sinners
I. THE WORDS, AS THEY WERE I TE DED, CO TAI A FALSE A D MALICIOUS
CALUM Y. “This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them.” The fact itself was undeniable:
but what interpretation did the Pharisees wish to put upon it?
1. They meant to insinuate that the followers of Jesus consisted chiefly of worthless and
disreputable characters; and this was false.
2. These murmurers meant to insinuate, further, that Jesus loved the company of sinners for its
own sake; and this again was false.
3. Or, perhaps, they meant to insinuate, that those whom He favourably received CO TI UED
sinners still; and this was as false as the rest.
II. THE SAME WORDS U DESIG EDLY EXPRESS A MOST GLORIOUS TRUTH. They
truly describe--

11. 1. The persons on whose behalf the Son of Man is interested--“This man receiveth sinners.”
(1) one but sinners--among the race of Adam, at least--have any concern or part in Jesus Christ.
(2) The vilest of sinners are not shut out from partaking in that mercy, which is equally needful to
the most virtuous.
(3) Once more--sin still dwelleth even in those who have partaken of the mercy of Christ; yet doth
He not cast them off. And why? Because He is not displeased to behold sin in His followers? God
forbid! o--but because He delights to see them “fighting manfully” against it, and gradually
overcoming it through the power of His grace.
2. The regard which He shows toward them--He “receiveth them, and eateth with them.”
(1) He receives them to His own favour, and to that of His Father.
(2) He receives them to spiritual communion with Himself, and with His Father.
(3) He receives them, finally, to His visible presence in the kingdom of His Father. (J. Jowett, M.
A.)
Christ receiving sinners
I. THE IMPIOUS CALUM Y I TE DED. You all know that the proverb has been accepted in
all ages, and clothed in all languages, “A man may be ever known by his associates.” Tell me his
friendships, and I will tell you his nature, for according to his companionships must be his
character. ow these Pharisees would force home this proverb upon the holy Saviour. Could He
come forth from that Father’s bosom, could He have just stepped into this naughty world out of
that world of holy love, and not be the Friend of publicans and sinners?--ay, the very best Friend
they ever had, for He came to seek and to save the chief, as He said most feelingly who had not
been a publican and a sinner, but a Pharisee and a sinner. This shall be to eternity His praise and
glory. But then it is said, or it is thought, by some Pharisees and scribes, that such a reception of
the sinner is a patronage of his sin--that such a gospel of free grace has a perilous tendency to
release man from moral duty; that if good works do not enter into the ground of the sinner’s
salvation, no obligation remains for the performance of them by the man--just as these Pharisees
implied that receiving sinners was to be a patron of their sin. Refute this error whenever it shows
itself, as the Lord refuted the slander of the scribes--by the revealed mind of God. I mean by the
pure word of Scripture; on the one hand saying, “ ot by works of righteousness which we have
done, but according unto His mercy He saved us”; and on the other hand affirming “That faith
should work by love.”
II. THE PRECIOUS TRUTH ASSERTED. The eater never did bring forth such sweetness as
when this testimony was extorted from wicked men. Why this revelation of the Father’s will? My

12. brethren, the great foundation of all Divine revelation, from the forfeiture of Paradise downward
through all its prophecies, and through all its promises, the great foundation of all revelation lies
in this little fact, “God receives sinners.” Open your Bible, read through the Scripture; it gives
you the character of God. Surely the errand of the beloved Son must be in harmony with that
character. Listen! hear the declaration of your Father’s mind: “I have no pleasure in the death of
him that dieth, saith the Lord.” Listen to the exhortations of your Father’s love: “Let the wicked
forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let Him return unto the Lord, and
He will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon.” Listen to the
proclamation of His own name: “The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering,
and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and
transgression and sin.” Hear His promise: “I have blotted out as a thick CLOUD thy
transgressions, and as a cloud thy sins: return unto Me; for I have redeemed thee.” Hear His
remonstrance: “How shall I give thee up, Ephraim? how shall I deliver thee, Israel? how shall I
make thee as Admah? how shall I set thee as Zeboim? Mine heart is turned within Me, My
repentings are kindled together. I will not execute the fierceness of Mine anger, I will not return
to destroy Ephraim; for I am God, and not man.” Oh! declarations, expostulations,
proclamations, promises, remonstrances, surely these must have their sign and seal in Him, of
whom it was said, “See Him, and you see the Father”; of whom it could be said, “The voice of
those human lips is the very echo of the voice of God.” (J. P. Eyre, M. A.)
The approachableness of Jesus
I. First let us PROVE THE APPROACHABLE ESS OF CHRIST, though it really needs no
proof, for it is a fact which lies upon the surface of His life.
1. You may see it conspicuously in His offices. Our Lord Jesus is said to be the Mediator between
God and man. ow, observe, that the office of mediator implies at once that he should be
approachable. Another of His offices is that of priest. The priest was the true brother of the
people, chosen from among themselves, at all times to be approached; living in their midst, in the
very centre of the camp, ready to make intercession for the sinful and the sorrowful. So is it with
our Lord. You may be separated from all of human kind, justly and righteously, by your
iniquities, but you are not separated from that great Friend of sinners who at this very time is
willing that publicans and sinners should draw near unto Him. As a third office let me mention
that the Lord Jesus is our Saviour; but I see not how He can be a Saviour unless He can be
approached by those who need to be saved.
2. Consider a few of His names and titles. Frequently Jesus is called the “Lamb.” I do not
suppose there is any one here who was ever afraid of a lamb; that little girl yonder, if she saw a
lamb, would not be frightened. Every child seems almost instinctively to long to put its hand on
the head of a lamb. O that you might come and put your hand on the head of Christ, the Lamb of
God that taketh away the sin of the world. Again, you find
Him called a Shepherd: no one is afraid of a shepherd. Timid, foolish, and wandering though you
may be, there is nothing in the Good Shepherd to drive you away from Him, but everything to
entice you to come to Him. Then again, He is called our Brother, and one always feels that he may

13. approach his brother. I have no thought of trouble or distress which I would hesitate to
communicate to my brother, because he is so good and kind. Brethren, you can come to the good
elder Brother at all hours; and when He blames you for coming, let me know. He is called, too, a
Friend; but He would be a very unfriendly friend who could not be approached by those He
professed to love. If my friend puts a hedge around himself, and holds himself so very dignified
that I may not speak with him, I would rather be without his friendship; but if he be a genuine
friend, and I stand at his door knocking, he will say, “Come in, and welcome; what can I do for
you?” Such a friend is Jesus Christ. He is to be met with by all needy, seeking hearts.
3. There is room enough for enlargement here, but I have no time to say more, therefore I will
give you another plea. Recollect His person. The person of our Lord Jesus Christ proclaims this
truth with a trumpet voice. I say His person, because He is man, born of woman, bone of our
bone, and flesh of our flesh.
4. If this suffice not, let me here remind you of the language of Christ. He proclaims His
approachability in such words as these, “Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden,
and I will give you rest.”
5. The old proverb truly saith that “actions speak louder than words,” and therefore let us review
the general ways and manners of the Redeemer. Yon may gather that He is the most
approachable of persons from the actions of His life. He was always very busy, and busy about
the most important of matters, and yet He never shut the door in the face of any applicant. ot
once was He harsh and repulsive. His whole life proves the truth of the prophecy, “The bruised
reed He will not break, and the stocking flax He will not quench.”
6. But, if you want the crowning argument, look yonder. The man who has lived a life of service,
at last dies a felon’s death! The cross of Christ should be the centre to which all hearts are drawn,
the focus of desire, the pivot of hope, the anchorage of faith. Surely, you need not be afraid to
come to Him who went to Calvary for sinners.
II. I now shall proceed, with as great brevity as I can command, TO ILLUSTRATE THIS
GREAT TRUTH.
1. I illustrate it by the way which Christ opens up for sinners to Himself The coming to Jesus
which saves the soul is a simple reliance on Him.
2. Thitruth is further illustrated by the help which He gives to coming sinners, in order to bring
them near to Himself. He it is who first makes them coming sinners.
3. I might further illustrate this to the children of God, by reminding you of the way in which you
now commune with your Lord. How easy it is for you to reach His ear and His heart! A prayer, a
sigh, a tear, a groan, will admit you into the King’s chambers.
4. The approachableness of Christ may also be seen in the fact of His receiving the poor offerings
of His people.
5. The ordinances wear upon their forefront the impress of an ever approachable Saviour.

14. Baptism in outward type sets forth our fellowship with Him in His death, burial, and
resurrection-what can be nearer than this? The Lord’s supper in visible symbol invites us to eat
His flesh and drink His blood: this reveals to us most clearly how welcome we are to the most
intimate intercourse with Jesus.
III. In the third place, we come TO E FORCE THIS TRUTH; or, as the old Puritans used to say,
improve it.
1. The first enforcement I give is this: let those of us who are working for the MASTER I soul-
winning, try to be be like Christ in this matter, and not be, as some are apt to be, proud, stuck-up,
distant, or formal.
2. There is this to be said to you who are unconverted--if Jesus Christ be so approachable, oh I
how I wish, how I wish that you would approach Him. There are no bolts upon His doors, no
barred iron gates to pass, no big dogs to keep you back. If Christ be so approachable by all needy
ones, then needy one, come and welcome. Come just now!
3. The last word is--if Jesus be such a Saviour as we have described Him, let saints and sinners
join to praise Him. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Open house for all comers
I. JESUS RECEIVI G SI ERS.
1. This was and is a great fact--our Lord received, and still receiveth sinners. A philosopher wrote
over the door of his academy, “He that is not learned, let him not enter here”; but Jesus speaketh
by Wisdom in the Proverbs, and says “Whoso is simple, let him turn in hither: as for him that
wanteth understanding, let him eat of My bread, and drink of the wine which I have mingled”
(Pro_9:4-5). He receives sinners as His disciples, companions, friends. “This man receiveth
sinners”; not, however, that they may remain sinners, but to pardon their sins, to justify their
persons, to cleanse their hearts by the Holy Spirit.
2. I want your attention to another thought--namely, the consistency of this fact. It is a most
consistent and proper thing that this man should receive sinners. If you and I reflect awhile we
shall remember that the types which were set forth concerning Christ all seem to teach us that He
must receive sinners. One of the earliest types of the Saviour was oah’s ark, by which a certain
company not only of men but also of the lowest animals were preserved from perishing by water,
and were floated out of the old world into the new. Moreover, the Master has been pleased to take
to Himself one or two titles which imply that He came to receive sinners. He takes the title of
Physician, but as He told these very Pharisees a little while before, “The whole have no need of a
physician, but they that are sick.” There is no practice for the physician in a neighbourhood
where every man is well.

15. 3. Observe the condescension of this fact. This man, who towers above all other men, holy,
harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners--this man receiveth sinners.
4. otice the certainty of this fact.
5. Do observe the unqualified sense in which the sentence is put, “This man receiveth sinners.”
But how? What sort of sinners? How are they to feel? How are they to come? ot a word is said
about their coming, or their preparation, but simply, “This man receiveth sinners.” One man
came on his bed--indeed, he did not come, but was brought by other people; Jesus received him
all the same for that.
II. ow, I wanted to have spoken upon the second head, but I have not had sufficient forethought
to store up the time, so we must only say of that just this: that Jesus Christ having once received
sinners, enters into the most familiar and endearing intercourse with them that is possible. HE
FEASTS WITH THEM--their joys are His joys, their work for God is His work for God. He
feasts with them at their table, and they with Him at His table; and He does this wherever the
table is spread. It may be in a garret, or in a cellar; in a wilderness, or on a mountain; He still
eateth with them. This He does now in the ordinances and means of grace by His Spirit; and this
He will do in the fulness of glory, when He takes these sinners up to dwell with Him. (C. H.
Spurgeon.)
An appeal to sinners
Many a true word has been spoken in jest, and many a true word has been spoken in slander.
ow the scribes and Pharisees wished to slander Christ; but in so doing they outstripped their
intentions, and bestowed upon Him a title of renown,
1. First, then, THE DOCTRI E. The doctrine is, not that Christ receiveth everybody but that He
“receiveth sinners.” Christ receives not the self-righteous, not the good, not the whole-hearted,
not those who dream that they do not need a Saviour, but the broken in spirit, the contrite in
heart--those who are ready to confess that they have broken God’s laws, and have merited His
displeasure. ow, let us remark, that there is a very wise distinction on the part of God, that He
hath been pleased thus to choose and call sinners to repentance, and not others. For this reason,
none but these ever do come to Him. There has never been such a miracle as a self-righteous man
coming to Christ for mercy; none but those who want a Saviour ever did come, and therefore it
would be useless for Him to say that He would receive any but those who most assuredly will
come. And mark, again, none but those can come; no man can come to Christ until he truly
knows himself to be a sinner. The self-righteous man cannot come to Christ; for what is implied
in coming to Christ? Repentance, trust in His mercy, and the denial of all confidence in one’s self.
His very self-righteousness fetters his foot, so that he cannot come; palsies his arm, so that he
cannot take hold of Christ; and blinds his eye, so that he cannot see the Saviour. Yet another
reason: if these people, who are not sinners, would come to Christ, Christ would get no glory
from them. When the physician openeth his door for those who are sick, let me go there full of
health; he can win no honour from me, because he cannot exert his skill upon me. The benevolent
man may distribute all his wealth to the poor; but let some one go to him who has abundance,

16. and he shall win no esteem from him for feeding the hungry, or for clothing the naked, since the
applicant is neither hungry nor naked. A great sinner brings great glory to Christ when he is
saved.
II. ow, then, THE E COURAGEME T. If this Man receiveth sinners, poor sin-sick sinner,
what a sweet word this is for thee I Sure, then, He will not reject thee. Come, let me encourage
thee this night to come to my Master, to receive His great atonement, and to be clothed with all
His righteousness. Mark, those whom I address are the bona fide, real, actual sinners, not the
complimentary sinners, not those who say they are sinners by way of pacifying, as they suppose,
the religionists of the day; but I speak to those who feel their lost, ruined, hopeless condition.
Come, because He has said He will receive you. I know your fears; we all felt them once, when we
were coming to Christ. Doth not this suffice thee? Then here is another reason. I am sure “this
Man receiveth sinners,” because He has received many, many before you. See, there is Mercy’s
door; mark how many have been to it; you can almost hear the knocks upon the door now, like
echoes of the past. You may remember how many wayworn travellers have called there for rest,
how many famished souls have applied there for bread. Go, knock at Mercy’s door, and ask the
porter this question, “ Was there ever one applied to the door that was refused?” I can assure you
of the answer: “ o, not one.”
III. ow the last point is A EXHORTATIO . If it be true that Christ came only to save sinners,
my beloved hearers, labour, strive, agonize, to get a sense in your souls of your own sinnership.
(C. H. Spurgeon.)
Christ receives all
In the ew Testament the Lord seems to have selected some of every kind and class to show that
He will receive all.
1. He will receive the rich--Joseph of Arimathea.
2. The poor--Lazarus the beggar.
3. The learned--Dionysius the Areopagite.
4. Physicians--Luke.
5. Soldiers--the Roman centurion.
6. Fishermen--the apostles.
7. Extortioners--Zaccheus.
8. Tax-gatherers--Matthew.

17. 9. Thieves--the dying robber.
10. Harlots--the woman who was a sinner.
11. Adulterers--the woman of Samaria.
12. Persecutors and murderers--Paul.
13. Back sliders--Peter.
14. Persons in trade--Lydia.
15. Statesmen and courtiers--the eunuch of Ethiopia.
16. Families--that at Bethany.
17. Whole multitudes--those on Day of Pentecost. (Van Doren.)
Christ’s treatment of sinners
There are two classes of sins. There are some sins by which man crushes, wounds, malevolently
injures his brother man: those sins which speak of a bad, tyrannical, and selfish heart. Christ met
those with denunciation. Thorn are other sins by which a man injures himself. There is a life of
reckless indulgence; there is a career of yielding to ungovernable propensities, which most surely
conducts to wretchedness and ruin, but makes a man an object of compassion rather than of
condemnation. The reception which sinners of this class met from Christ was marked by strange
and pitying mercy. There was no maudlin sentiment on His lips. He called sin sin, and guilt guilt.
But yet there were sins which His lips scourged, and others over which, containing in themselves
their own scourge, His heart bled. That which was melancholy, and marred, and miserable in this
world, was more congenial to the heart of Christ than that which was proudly happy. It was in
the midst of a triumph, and all the pride of a procession, that He paused to weep over ruined
Jerusalem. And if we ask the reason why the character of Christ was marked by this melancholy
condescension, it is that He was in the midst of a world of ruins, and there was nothing there to
gladden, but very much to touch with grief. He was here to restore that which was broken down
and crumbling into decay. An enthusiastic antiquarian, standing amidst the FRAGME TS of an
ancient temple surrounded by dust and moss, broken pillar, and defaced architrave, with
magnificent projects in his mind of restoring all this to former majesty, to draw out to light from
mere rubbish the ruined glories, and therefore stooping down amongst the dank ivy and the rank
nettles; such was Christ amidst the wreck of human nature. He was striving to lift it out of its
degradation. He was searching out in revolting places that which had fallen down, that He might
build it up again in fair proportions a holy temple to the Lord. Therefore He laboured among the
guilty; therefore He was the companion of outcasts; therefore He spoke tenderly and lovingly to
those whom society counted undone. (F. W. Robertson, M. A.)

18. Christ’s demeanour towards sinners
The heathen philosopher Seneca made a practice of dining with his slaves, and when challenged
for an innovation so directly in the teeth of all customary proprieties and so offensive to the
Roman mind, he defended himself by saying that he dined with some because they were worthy
of his esteem, and with others that they might become so. The action and its defence was alike
admirable, and read a salutary lesson to the aristocrats of Rome. But it was even a greater shock
to the Pharisees, and if possible even more unaccountable, that Jesus should prefer the society of
notorious sinners to their own irreproachable manners and decorous conversation. They could
not understand why a teacher of holy life, instead of frowning upon the notoriously profligate,
should show a preference for their society. Our Lord’s explanation is ample and thorough. He
devotes, therefore, the three parables recorded in this chapter to this purpose. It is perhaps worth
remarking that on one point He felt that no explanation was required. Even the Pharisees did not
suspect Him of any sympathy with sin. These critics of His conduct had not failed to remark that
in His presence the daring profanity and audacious license of wicked men were tamed. Those who
so narrowly criticized our Lord’s conduct might have seen its reasonableness had they been able
to look at it from another point of view. With equal surprise they might have exclaimed: “Sinners
receive this Man and eat with Him.” These dissolute and lawless characters could themselves
have explained the change. They were attracted to Jesus, because together with unmistakable
sanctity, and even somehow appearing as the chief feature of His sanctity, there was an
understanding of the sinner’s position and a hopefulness about him which threw a hitherto
unknown spell over them. Separate from sinners, as they had never before felt any one to be, He
seemed to come closer to their heart by far than any other had come. He had a heart open to all
their troubles. He saw them through and through, and yet showed no loathing, no scorn, no
astonishment, no perplexity, no weariness. Instead of meeting them with upbraiding and showing
them all they had lost, He gave them immediate entrance into His own pure, deep, efficient love,
and gladdened their hearts with a sense of what they yet had in Him. Therefore men whose
SEARED conscience felt no other touch, who had a ready scoff for every other form of holiness,
admitted this new power and yielded to it. The contrast between this new attitude of a holy
person towards the sinner and that to which men had commonly been accustomed has been finely
described in the following words: “He who thought most seriously of the disease held it to be
curable; while those who thought less seriously of it pronounced it incurable. Those who loved
their race a little made war to the knife against its enemies and oppressors; lie who loved it so
much as to die for it made overtures of peace to them. The half-just judge punished the convicted
criminal; the thoroughly just judge offered him forgiveness. Perfect justice here appears to take
the very course which would be taken by injustice.” It is this, then, that calls for explanation. And
it is explained by our Lord in three parables, each of which illustrates the fact that a more active
interest in any possession is arroused by the very circumstance that it is lost.
I. The first point, then, suggested by these parables is THAT GOD SUFFERS LOSS I EVERY
SI ER THAT DEPARTS FROM HIM. This was what the Pharisees had wholly left out of
account, that God loves men and mourns over every ill that befalls them. And this is what we find
it so hard to believe.
II. Secondly, these parables suggest THAT THE VERY FACT OF OUR BEI G LOST EXCITES

19. ACTIO OF A SPECIALLY TE DER KI D TOWARD US. God does not console Himself for
our loss by the fellowship of those who have constantly loved Him. He does not call new creatures
into being, and so fill up the blank we have made by straying from Him. He is not a Sovereign
who has no personal knowledge of His subjects, nor an employer of labour who can always get a
fresh hand to fill an emptied post: He is rather a Shepherd who knows His sheep one by one, a
Father who loves His children individually. He would rather restore the most abandoned sinner
than blot him from his place to substitute an archangel. Love is personal and settles upon
individuals. It is not all the same to God if some other person is saved while you are not. These
parables thus bring us face to face with the most significant and fertile of all realities--God’s love
for us. This love encompasses you whether you will or no. Love cannot remain indifferent or
quiescent. Interference of a direct and special kind becomes necessary. The normal relations
being disturbed, and man becoming helpless by the disturbance, it falls to God to restore matters.
A new set of ideas and dealings are brought into play. So long as things go smoothly and men by
nature love God and seek to do His will, there is no anxiety, no meeting of emergencies by
unexpected effort, hidden resources, costly sacrifice. But when sin brings into view all that is
tragic, and when utter destruction seems to be man’s appointed destiny, there is called into
exercise the deepest tenderness, the utmost power of the Divine nature. Here where the
profoundest feeling of God is concerned, where His connection with His own children is
threatened, Divinity is stirred to its utmost. This appears, among other things, in the spontaneity
and persistence of the search God institutes for the lost.
III. The third point illustrated by these parables is THE EXCEEDI G JOY CO SEQUE T O
THE RESTORATIO OF THE SI ER. “Joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth
more than over ninety and nine just persons which need no repentance.” The joy is greater,
because the effort to bring it about has been greater, and because for a time the result has been in
suspense, so that when the end is attained there is a sense of clear gain. The joy of success is
proportioned to the difficulty, the doubtfulness of attaining it. All the hazards and sacrifices of
the search are repaid by the recovery of the lost. The value of the unfallen soul may intrinsically
be greater than the value of the redeemed; but the joy is proportioned, not to the value of the
article, but to the amount of anxiety that has been spent upon it. (M. Dods, D. D.)
The devil’s castaways received by Christ
“Mr. Whitfield,” said Lady Huntingdon, “these ladies have been preferring a very heavy charge
against you. They say that in your sermon last night you made use of this expression: “So ready is
Christ to receive sinners who come to Him, that He is willing to receive the devil’s castaways.”
Mr. Whitfield pleaded guilty to the charge, and told them of the following circumstance. “A
wretched woman came to me this morning, and said: ‘ Sir, I was passing the door of your chapel,
and hearing the voice of some one preaching, I did what I have never been in the habit of doing, I
went in I and one of the first things I heard you say was that Jesus would receive willingly the
devil’s castaways. Sir, I have been in the town for many years, and am so worn out in his service,
that I may with truth be called one of the devil’s castaways. Do you think that Jesus would
receive me? “I,” said Mr. Whitfield, “assured her that there was not a doubt of it, if she was
willing to go to Him.” From the sequel it appeared that this was a case of true conversion, and
Lady Huntingdon was assured that the woman left a very charming testimony behind her, that

20. though her sins had been of a crimson hue, the atoning blood of Christ had washed them white as
snow.
Publicans and sinners drawn to Christ; or, the wisdom of gentleness
Rigorous courses hath ordinarily produced sad effects. Thou seest that those drops that fall easily
upon the corn ripen and fill the ear, but the stormy showers that fall with violence beat the stalks
down fiat upon the earth, which being once laid, are afterwards kept down without hope of
recovery through weeds’ embracements. Have you never known any that have been sent faulty to
the jail who have returned flagitious and vile? ( . Rogers.)
The worst capable of much
White paper is made of dunghill rags. God can so work the heart of the vilest wretch with beating
and purifying as it shall be fit to write His laws upon. ( . Rogers.)
Murmuring
Murmuring is a sin betwixt secret backbiting and open railing; a smothered malice which can
neither utterly be concealed, nor dare openly be vented. Remedies against this evil: First, keep
thy heart from pride, envy, passion, for from hence flows murmuring, malignity, whispering.
Seldom do we murmur at those below us, but above us. ( . Rogers.)
EBC, "LOST AND FOUND.
IN this chapter we see how the waves of influence, moving outward from their Divine center, touch the
outermost fringe of humanity, sending the pulsations of new excitements and new hopes through
classes Religion and Society both had banned. "Now all the publicans and sinners were drawing near
unto Him, for to hear Him."
It was evidently a movement widespread and deep. The hostility of Pharisees and scribes would
naturally give to these outcasts a certain bias in His favor, causing their hearts to lean towards Him,
while His words of hope fell upon their lives like the breaking of a new dawn. Nor did Jesus forbid
their approach. Instead of looking upon it as an intrusion, an impertinence, the attraction was mutual.
Instead of receiving them with a cold and scant courtesy, He welcomed them, receiving them gladly, as
the verb of the Pharisees’ murmur implies. He even mingled with them in social intercourse, with an
acceptance, if not an interchange, of hospitality. To the Pharasaic mind, however, this was a flagrant
lapse, a breach of the proprieties which was unpardonable and half criminal, and they gave vent to
their disapprobation and disgust in the loud and scornful murmur, "This man receiveth sinners, and
eateth with them." It is from this hard sentence of withering contempt, as from a prickly and bitter
calyx, we have the trifoliate parables of the Lost Sheep, the Lost Coin, and the Lost Man, the last of
which is perhaps the crown and flower of all the parables. With minor differences, the three parables
are really one, emphasizing, as they reiterate, the one truth how Heaven seeks after the lost of earth,
and how it rejoices when the lost is found.
The first parable is pastoral: "What man of you," asks Jesus, using the Tu quoque retort, "having a
hundred sheep, and having lost one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and
go after that which is lost, until he find it?" It is one of those questions which only need to be asked to

21. be answered, an interrogative which is axiomatic and self-evident. Jesus tries to set his detractors in
His place, that they may think His thoughts, feel His feelings, as they look out on the world from His
standpoint; but since they cannot follow Him to these redemptive heights, He comes down to the lower
level of their vision. "Suppose you have a hundred sheep, and one of them, getting separated from the
rest, goes astray, what do you do? Dismissing it from your thought, do you leave it to its fate, the
certain slaughter that awaits it from the wild beasts? or do you seek to minimize your loss, working it
out by the rule of proportion as you ask, ‘What is one to ninety-nine?’ then writing off the lost one, not
as a unit, but as a common fraction? No; such a supposition is incredible and impossible. You would go
in search of the lost directly. Turning your back upon the ninety and nine, and turning your thoughts
from them too, you would leave them in their mountain pasture, as you sought the lost one. Calling it
by its name, you would climb the terraced hills, and awake the echoes of the wadies, until the flinty
heart of the mountain had felt the sympathy of your sorrow, repeating with you the lost wanderer’s
name. And when at last you found it you would not chide or punish it; you would not even force it to
retrace its steps across the weary distance, but taking compassion on its weakness, you would lift it
upon your shoulders and bear it rejoicing home. Then forgetful of your own weariness, fatigue and
anxiety swallowed up in the new-found joy, you would go round to your neighbors, to break the good
news to them, and so all would rejoice together."
Such is the picture, warm in color and instinct with life, Jesus sketches in a few well-chosen words. He
delicately conceals all reference to Himself; but even the chromatic vision of the Pharisees would
plainly perceive how complete was its justification of His own conduct, in mingling thus with the
erring and the lost; while to us the parable is but a veil of words, through which we discern the form
and features of the "Good Shepherd," who gave even His life for the sheep, seeking that He might save
that which was lost.
The second, which is a twin parable, is from domestic life. As in the parables of the kingdom, Jesus sets
beside the man with the mustard seed the woman with her leaven, so here He makes the same
distinction, clothing the Truth both in a masculine and a feminine dress. He asks again, "Or what
woman" (He does not say "of you," for if women were present amongst His hearers they would be in
the background) "having ten pieces of silver, if she lose one piece, doth not light a lamp, and sweep the
house, and seek diligently until she find it? And when she hath found it, she calleth together her
friends and neighbors, saying, Rejoice with me, for I have found the piece which I had lost." Much
objection has been taken to this parable for its supposed want of naturalness and reality. "Is it likely,"
our objectors say, "that the loss of a small coin like a drachma, whose value was about sevenpence-
halfpenny, could be the occasion of so much concern, and that its recovery should be enough to call
forth the congratulations of all the village matrons? Surely that is not parable, but hyperbole." But
things have a real as well as an intrinsic value, and what to others would be common and cheap, to its
possessor might be a treasure beyond reckoning, with all the added values of association and
sentiment. So the ten drachmas of the woman might have a history; they might have been a family
heirloom, moving quietly down the generations, with whole poems, aye, and even tragedies hidden
within them. Or we can conceive of a poverty so dire and strait that even one small coin in the
emergent circumstance might grow into a value far beyond its intrinsic worth. But the parable does not
need all these suppositions to steady it and keep it from falling to the ground. When rightly understood
it becomes singularly natural, the truth of truth, if such an essence can be distilled in human speech.
The probable interpretation is that the ten drachmas were the ten coins worn as a frontlet by the
women of the East. This frontlet was given by the bridegroom to the bride at the time of marriage, and
like the ring of Western life, it was invested with a kind of sanctity. It must be worn on all public
occasions, and guarded with a jealous, sacred care; for should one of its pieces be lost, it would be
regarded as an indication that the possessor had not only been careless, but also that she had been
unfaithful to her marriage vow. Throwing, then, this light of Eastern custom upon the parable, how
vivid and lifelike it becomes! With what intense eagerness would she seek for the missing coin!
Lighting her lamp-for the house would be but dimly lighted with its open door and its small unglazed
window-how carefully and almost tremblingly she would peer along its shelves, and sweep out the
corners of her few rooms! And how great would be her joy as she saw it glistening in the dust! Her
whole soul would go out after it, as if it were a living, sentient thing. She would clasp it in her hand,

22. and even press it to her lips; for has it not taken a heavy care and sorrow from her heart? That one coin
rising from the dust has been to her like the rising of another sun, filling her home with light and her
life with melody; and what wonder that she hastens to communicate her joy, as, standing by her door,
after the eastern wont, she holds up the missing treasure, and calls on her neighbors and friends (the
substantives are feminine now) to rejoice with her.
The third parable carries the thought still higher, forming the crown of the ascending series. Not only
is there a mathematical progression, as the lost fraction increases from one-hundreth to one-tenth,
and then to one-half of the whole, but the intrinsic value of the loss rises in a corresponding series. In
the first it was a lost sheep, a loss which might soon be replaced, and which would soon be forgotten;
in the second it was a lost coin, which, as we have seen, meant the loss of what was more valuable than
gold, even honor and character; while in the third it is a lost child. We call it the parable of the Prodigal
Son; it might with equal propriety be called the Parable of the Bereaved Father, for the whole story
crystallizes about that name, repeating it, in one form or another, no less than twelve times.
"A certain man," so begins this parabolic "Paternoster," "had two sons." Tired of the restraints of home
and the surveillance of the father’s eye, the younger of them determined to see the world for himself, in
order, as the sequel shows, that he might have a free hand, and give loose reins to his passions. With a
cold, impertinent bluntness, he says to the father, whose death he thus anticipates, "Father, give me
the portion of thy substance that falleth to me," a command whose sharp, imperative tone shows but
too plainly the proud, masterful spirit of the youth. He respects neither age nor law; for though the
paternal estate could be divided during the father’s life, no son, much less the younger, had any right
to demand it. The father grants the request, dividing "unto them," as it reads, "his living"; for the same
line which marks off the portion of the younger marks out too that of the elder son, though he holds
his portion as yet only in promise. Not many days after-for having found its wings, the foolish bird is in
haste to fly-the youth gathers all together, and then takes his journey into a far country. The down
grades of life are generally steep and short, and so one sentence is enough to describe this decensus
Averni, down which the youth plunges so insanely: "He wasted his substance with riotous living,"
scattering it, as the verb means, throwing it away after low, illicit pleasures. "And when he had spent
all"-the "all" he had scrambled for and gathered a short while before-"there arose a mighty famine in
that country; and he began to be in want"; and so great were his straits, so remorseless the pangs of
hunger, that he was glad to attach himself to a citizen of that country as swineherd, living out in the
fields with his drove, like the swineherds of Gadara. But such was the pressure of the famine that his
mere pittance could not cope with famine prices, and again and again he hungered to have his fill of
the carob-pods, which were dealt out statedly and sparingly to the swine. But no man gave even these
to him he was forgotten as one already dead.
Such is the picture Jesus draws of the lost man, a picture of abject misery and degradation. When the
sheep wandered it strayed unwittingly, blindly, getting farther from its fellows and its fold even when
bleating vainly for them. When the drachma was lost it did not lose itself, nor had it any consciousness
that it had dropped out of its proper environment. But in the case of the lost man it was altogether
different. Here it is a willful perversity, which breaks through the restraints of home, tramples upon its
endearments, and throws up a blighted life, scarred and pealed amid the husks and swine of a far
country. And it is this element of perversity, self-will, which explains, as indeed it necessitates, another
marked difference in the parables. When the sheep and the drachma were lost there was an eager
search, as the shepherd followed the wanderer over the mountain gullies, and the woman with broom
and lamp went after the lost coin. But when the youth is lost, flinging himself away, the father does not
follow him, except in thought, and love, and prayer. He sits "still in the house," nursing a bitter grief,
and the work on the farm goes on just as usual, for the service of the younger brother would probably
be not much missed. And why does not the father summon his servants, bidding them go after the lost
child, bringing him home, if necessary, by force? Simply because such a finding would be no finding.
They might indeed carry the wanderer home, setting down his feet by the familiar door; but of what
use is that if his heart is still wayward and his will rebellious? Home would not be home to him and
with his heart in the far country, he would walk even in his father’s fields and in his father’s house as
an alien, a foreigner. And so all embassies, all messages would be in vain; and even a father’s love can

23. do no more than wait, patiently and prayerfully, in hopes that a better spirit may yet come over him,
and that some rebound of feeling may bring him home, a humbled penitent. The change comes at
length, and the slow morning dawns.
When the photographer wishes to develop the picture that is hidden in the film of the sensitive plate he
carries it to a darkened room, and bathed in the developing solution the latent image gradually
appears, even to the minutest details. It was so here; for when in his extremest need, with the pinch of
a fearful hunger upon him, and the felt darkness of a painful isolation surrounding him, there came
into the prodigal’s soul a sweet picture of the far-away home, the home which might still have been his
but for his wantonness, but which is his now only in memory. It is true his first thoughts of that home
were not very lofty; they only crouched with the dogs under the father’s table, or hovered around the
plentiful board of the servants, attracted by the "bread enough and to spare." But such is the natural
association of ideas; the carob-pods of the swine naturally suggest the bread of the servants, while this
in turn opens up all the chambers of the father’s house, reviving its half-faded images of happiness and
love, and awaking all the sweet memories that sin had stifled and silenced. That it was so here, the
lower leading up to the higher thought, is evident from the young man’s soliloquy: "I will arise and go
to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight; I am no
more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants." The hunger for the servants’
bread is all forgotten now, swallowed up in the hunger of the soul, as it pines for the father’s presence
and for the father’s smile, longing for the lost Eden. The very name "father" strikes with a strange
music upon his awakened and penitent soul, making him for the time half-oblivious to his present
wretchedness; and as Memory recalls a bright but vanished past, Hope peoples the dark sky with a
heavenly host, who sing a new Advent, the dawn of a heavenly day. An Advent? Perhaps it was an
Easter rather, with a "resurrection from earth to things above," an Easter whose anthem, in songs
without end, was, "I will arise and go to my father," that Resurgam of a new and holier life.
No sooner is the "I will" spoken than there is a reversing of all the wheels. The hands follow whither
the heart has gone; the feet shake off the dust of the far country, retracing the steps they measured so
foolishly and lightly before; while the eyes, washed by their bitter tears-
"Not backward are their glances bent But onward to the Father’s house."
"And he arose and came to his father." He came to himself first; and having found that better self, he
became conscious of the void he had not felt before. For the first time he realizes how much the father
is to him, and how terrible the bereavement and loss he inflicted upon himself when be put between
that father and himself the desert of an awful distance. And as the bright memories of other days flash
up within his soul, like the converging rays of a borealis, they all turn towards and center in the father.
Servants, home, and loaves of bread alike speak of him whose very shadow is brightness to the self-
orphaned child. He yearns for the father’s presence with a strange and intense yearning; and could
that presence be his again; even if he were nothing more than a servant, with but casual interviews,
hearing his voice but in its commanding tones, he would be content and happy.
And so he comes and seeks the father; will the father-relent and receive him? Can he overlook and
forgive the waywardness and wantonness which have embittered his old age? Can he receive him back
even as a servant, a child who has scorned his authority, slighted his love, and squandered his
substance in riotous living? Does the father say, "He has made his own bed, and he must lie upon it; he
has had his portion, even to the swept-up crumbs, and there is nothing left for him now?" No, for there
is something left, a treasure which he might scorn, indeed, but which he could not throw away, even a
heritage of love. And what a picture the parable draws of the love that "hopeth and endureth all things!
But while he was yet afar off, his father saw him, and was moved with compassion and ran, and fell on
his neck, and kissed him." As the moon in her revolutions lifts up the tides, drawing the deep oceans to
herself, so do the unsounded depths of the father’s heart turn towards the prodigal whose life has set,
dropping out of sight behind wildernesses of darkness. Thought, prayer, pity, compassion, love flow
out towards the attraction they can no longer see. Nay, it seems as if the father’s vision were transfixed,
riveted to the spot where the form of his erring lad vanished out of sight; for no sooner has the youth
come within sight of the home than the father’s eyes, made telescopic with love, discern him, and as if

24. by intuition, recognize him, even though his attire be mean and tattered, and his step has no longer the
lightness of innocence nor the firmness of integrity. It is, it is his child, the erring but now repenting
child, and the pent-up emotions of the father’s soul rush out as in a tumultuous freshet to meet him.
He even "ran" to meet him, all forgetful of the dignity of years, and throwing himself upon his neck, he
kissed him, not either with the cold kiss of courtesy, but with the warm, fervent kiss of love, as the
intensive prefix of the verb implies. So far this scene of reconciliation has been as a dumb show. The
storm of emotion so interrupted the electric flow of quiet thought and speech that no word was spoken
in the mutual embrace. When, however, the power of speech returns the youth is the first to break the
silence. "Father," he said, repeating the words of his mental resolve when in the far country, "I have
sinned against Heaven, and in thy sight: I am no more worthy to be called thy son." It is no longer the
sense of physical need, but the deeper sense of guilt, that now presses upon his soul. The moral nature,
which by the anodynes of sin had been thrown into a state of coma, awakes to a vivid consciousness,
and in the new awakening, in the broadening light of the new dawn, he sees one thing only, and that is
his sin, a sin which has thrown its blackness over the wasted years, which has embittered a father’s
heart, and which cast its shadow even into heaven itself. Nor is it the conviction of sin only; there is a
full and frank confession of it, with no attempt at palliation or excuse. He does not seek to gloss it over,
but smiting his breast with bitter reproaches, he confesses his sin with "a humble, lowly, penitent, and
obedient heart," hoping for the mercy and forgiveness he is conscious he does not deserve. Nor does he
hope in vain.
Even before the confession is completed, the absolution is spoken, virtually at least; for without
allowing the youth to finish his sentence, in which he offers to renounce his sonship and to accept a
menial position, the father calls to the servants, "Bring forth quickly, the best robe, and put it on him;
and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: and bring the fatted calf, and kill it, and let us eat
and make merry." In this peal of imperatives we detect the rapid beating of the father’s heart, the
loving, eager haste to wipe out all the sad marks that sin has left. In the luminous atmosphere of the
father’s love the youth is no more the prodigal; he is as one transfigured; and now that the chrysalis
has left the mire, and crept up into the sunlight, it must have a dress befitting its new summer life,
wings of gauze, and robes of rainbow hues. The best, or "the first robe" as it is in the Greek, must be
brought out for him; a signet-ring, the pledge of authority, must be put upon his hand; shoes, the
badge of freedom, must be found for the tired and bared feet; while for the merry-making which is
extemporized, the domestic festa which is the crown of these rejoicings, the fatted calf, which was in
reserve for some high festival, must be killed. And all this is spoken in a breath, in a sort of
bewilderment, the ecstasy of an excessive joy; and forgetting that the simple command is enough for
servants, the master must needs tell out his joy to them: "For this my son was dead, and is alive again;
he was lost, and is found."
If the three parables were all through coincident, the Parable of the Prodigal Son should close at this
point, the curtain dropping over the festive scene, where songs, and music, and the rhythm of the
dance are the outward and weak expressions of the father’s joy over the son who comes back from the
far country, as one alive from the dead. But Jesus has another purpose; He must not only plead the
cause of the outcast and the low, setting open for them the door of mercy and of hope; He must also
rebuke and silence the unreasoning murmur of the Pharisees and scribes-which He does in the picture
of the Elder Brother. Coming from the field, the heir is surprised to find the whole house given up to
an impromptu feast. He hears the sounds of merriment and music, but its strains fall strange and
harsh upon his ear. What can it mean? Why was he not consulted? Why should his father thus take
occasion of his absence in the fields to invite his friends and neighbors? The proud spirit chafes under
the slight, and calling one of the servants, he asks what it all means. The answer is not reassuring, for it
only perplexes and pains him the more: "thy brother is come; and thy father hath killed the fatted calf,
because he hath received him safe and sound"-an answer which does but deepen his displeasure,
turning his sullenness to anger. "And would not go in." They may end the feast, as they began it,
without him. The festive joy is something foreign to his nature; it awakes but feelings of repulsion, and
all its music is to him a grating discord, a "Miserere."
But let us not be too severe upon the elder brother. He was not perfect, by any means, but in any

25. appraisement of his character there are certain veinings of worth and nobleness that must not be
omitted. We have already seen how, in the division of the father’s goods, when he divided unto them
his living, while the younger took away his portion, and swiftly scattered it in riotous living, the elder
brother took no advantage of the deed of gift. He did not dispossess the father, securing for himself the
paternal estate. He put it back into his father’s hands, content with the filial relation of dependence
and obedience. The father’s word was still his law. He was the dutiful son; and when he said, "These
many years do I serve thee, and I never transgressed a commandment of thine," the boast was no
exaggeration, but the statement of a simple truth. Compared with the life of the prodigal, the life of the
elder brother had been consistent, conscientious, and moral. Where, then, was his failure, his lack? It
was just here, in the lack of heart, the absence of affection. He bore the name of a son, but he carried
the heart of a servant. His nature was servile, rather than filial; and while his hands offered a service
unremitting and precise, it was the cold service of an impassive mechanism. Instead of love passing
out in living heart-throbs, suffusing all the life with its warmth, and clothing it in its own iridescent
coloring, it was only a metallic mainspring called "duty." The father’s presence is not the delight to
him; he does not once mention that tender name in which the repenting one finds such a heaven; and
when he draws the picture of his highest happiness, the feast of his earthly Walhalla, "my friends" are
there, though the father is excluded. And so between the father and the elder brother, with all this
seeming nearness, there was a distance of reserve, and where the voices of affection and of constant
communion should have been heard there was too often a vacancy of silence. It takes a heart to read a
heart; and since this was wanting in the elder brother, he could not know the heart of the father; he
could not understand his wild joy. He had no patience with his younger brother; and had he received
him back at all, it would have been with a haughty stiffness, and with a lowering in his looks, which
should have been at once a rebuke for the past and a warning for the future. The father looked on his
son’s repentance; the elder brother did not regard the repentance at all; perhaps he had not heard of it,
or perhaps he could not understand it; it was something that lay out of the plane of his consciousness.
He saw the sin only, how the younger son had devoured his living with harlots; and so he was severe,
exacting, bitter. He would have brought out the sackcloth, but nothing more; while as to the music and
the fatted calf, they would appear to his loveless soul as an absurd anachronism.
But far removed as he is from the father’s spirit, he is still his son; and though the father rejoices more
over the younger than over the elder, as was but natural, he loves them both with an equal love. He
cannot bear that there should be any estrangement now; and he even leaves the festive throng, and the
son he has welcomed and robed, and going out, he begs, he entreats the elder brother to pass in, and to
throw himself into the general joy. And when the elder son complains that, with all his years of
obedient, dutiful service, he has never had even a kid, much less a fatted calf, on which to feast his
friends, the father says, lovingly, but chidingly, "Son" or "Child," rather, for it is a term of greater
endearment than the "son" he had just used before-"thou art ever with me, and all that is mine is thine.
But it was meet to make merry and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was
lost, and is found." He plays upon the "child" as upon a harp, that he may drive away the evil spirits of
jealousy and anger, and that even within the servant-heart he may awake some chords, if only the far-
off echoes of a lost childhood. He reminds him how vastly different their two positions are. For him
there has been no break in their intercourse; the father’s house has been his home; he has had the free
range of all: to the younger that home has been nothing but a distant memory, with a waste of dreary
years between. He has been heir and lord of all; and so completely have father and son been identified,
their separate personalities merged the one in the other, that the possessive pronouns, the "mine" and
the "thine," are used interchangeably. The younger returns penniless, disinherited by his own misdeed.
Nay, he has been as one dead; for what was the far country but a vault of slimy things, the sepulcher of
a dead soul? "And should we not make merry and be glad, when thy brother" (it is the antithesis to
"thy son" of ver. 30 (Luk_15:30), a mutual "thy") "comes back to us as one raised from the dead?"
Whether the father’s pleading prevailed, or not, we are not told. We can but hope it did, and that the
elder brother, with his asperities all dissolved, and his jealousies removed, did pass within to share the
general joy, and to embrace a lost brother. Then he too would know the sweetness of forgiveness, and
taught by the erring but now forgiven one, he too would learn to spell out more correctly that deep
word "father," the word he had stammered at, and perhaps misspelt before, as the fatherhood and the

26. brotherhood became to him not ideas merely, but bright realities.
Gathering up now the lessons of the parables, they show us
(1) the Divine grief over sin. In the first two this is the prominent thought, the sorrow of the loser. God
is represented as losing that which is of worth to Him, something serviceable, and therefore valuable.
In the third parable the same idea is suggested rather than stated; but the thought is carried farther,
for now it is more than a loss, it is a bereavement the father suffers. The retreating form of the
wanderer throws back its shadow across the father’s home and heart, a shadow that congeals and
stays, and that is darker than the shadow of Death itself. It is the Divine Grief, whose depths we cannot
sound, and from whose mystery we must stand back, not one stone’s cast, but many.
The parables show
(2) the sad state of the sinner. In the case of the Lost Sheep and the Lost Coin we see his perfect
helplessness to recover himself, and that he must remain lost, unless One higher than himself
undertakes his cause, and "help is laid upon One that is mighty." It is the third parable, however,
which especially emphasizes the downward course of sin and the deepening wretchedness of the
sinner. The flowery path leads on to a valley of desolation. The way of transgressors is ever a
downward path; and let an evil spirit possess a soul, it hurries him directly down the steep place,
where, unless the flight be checked, a certain destruction awaits him. Sin degrades and isolates. Want,
sorrow, penury, and pain are but a part of its viperous brood, and he who plays with sin, calling it
freedom, will find his rod blossom with bitter fruit, or he will see it grow into a serpent with poison in
its fangs.
The parables show
(3) God’s willingness and eagerness to save. The long and eager search after the lost sheep and the lost
corn show, though but imperfectly, the supreme efforts God makes for man’s salvation. He is not left
to wander unrebuked and unsought. There is no forbidden path along which men insanely rush, but
some bright angel stands beside it, warning back the sinner, it may be with a drawn sword, some
"terror of the Lord," or it may be with a cross, the sacrifice of an infinite love. Though He could send
His armies to destroy, He sends His messengers to win us back to obedience and to love-Conscience,
Memory, Reason, the Word, the Spirit, and even the well-beloved Son. Nor is the great search
discontinued, until it has proved to be in vain.
The parables show
(4) the eager interest Heaven takes in man’s salvation, and the deep joy there is among the angels over
his repentance and recovery. And so the three parables close with a "Jubilate." The shepherd rejoices
over his recovered sheep more than over the ninety and nine which went not astray; the woman
rejoices over the one coin found more than over the nine which were not lost. And this is perfectly
natural. The joy of acquisition is more than the joy of possession; and as the crest of the waves is
thrown up above the mean sea-level by the alternate depths of depression. so the very sorrow and grief
over the loss and bereavement, now that the lost is found and the dead is alive, throw up the emotions
beyond their mean level, up to the summits of an exuberant joy. And whether Jesus meant, by the
ninety and nine just persons who needed no repentance, the unfallen intelligences of heaven, or
whether, as Godet thinks, He referred to those who under the Old Covenant were sincere doers of the
Law, and who found their righteousness therein, (Deu_6:25) it is still true, and a truth stamped with a
Divine "Verily," that more than the joy of Heaven over these is its joy over the sinner that repented, the
dead who now was alive, and the lost who now was found!
HAWKER, "Then drew near unto him all the publicans and sinners for to hear him. And the Pharisees
and scribes murmured, saying, This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them.
The imagination can hardly form to itself a more striking portrait than what those verses represent.
Figure to yourself, Reader, a company of poor, despised outcasts of society, in a body, of publicans and

27. sinners, drawing nigh, with looks of hope and desire to Christ, as if to say, Can there be mercy for us?
And on the other side of the representation, look at the proud, disdainful, self-righteous Pharisees and
Scribes withdrawing from the Lord, with countenances of the most sovereign contempt, as if Jesus and
his company should pollute their holiness. This man (say they) receiveth sinners, and eateth with
them. Precious Jesus! Well is it for me that thou dost; for what must have become of me had this not
been the case? How truly lovely doth the Son of God appear by such marvellous condescension! And
what can more endear Christ to his people?
MEYER, " SEEKING AND FINDING THE LOST
Luk_15:1-10
They that have left the fold in which they were nurtured in early life, and have gone over bleak
mountains and through tangled brakes, find themselves in this exquisite picture. But the Lord is on
their track. He cannot abide happily with the rest, while one sheep is liable to be torn by beasts of prey
or caught away by eagles. He goes after it till He finds it. Don’t you think, mother, that the Lord loves
that child of yours, now far away, as much as you do? Cannot you trust Him to seek until He finds?
Then He will ask you to rejoice with Him. Jesus not only receiveth sinners, but seeketh them. Those
who have always lived an outwardly correct life and who do not think themselves in need of repentance
are the ninety and nine.
Some have the King’s stamp on them, but have rolled away into the dark corner amid dust and
shavings. Oh, that we were all more willing to go down on our knees to sweep the floor to find the lost!
The nine links of a necklace are useless if the tenth is missing. Christ cannot be satisfied until the lost
coin is found.
SBC, "It has been observed that intense cold will produce very much the same effect as fervent heat.
The ring of iron that surrounds a wheel, being exposed to keen frosts during a long winter’s night, will
produce a sensation and an effect on a sensitive skin very much the same as that the same ring will
produce, if heated in the fire when the smith takes it from the furnace to hammer it on the anvil.
Intense cold and intense heat thus often produce, in a manner that might be easily explained, the same
effect. But it is true in the realm of mind and heart, as well as in the region of matter, that opposites do
often produce similar effects. Hatred and love have this in common,—that the object of love and the
object of hatred are equally in the thoughts of the person loving or hating. He that loves would not
forget the object of his love, and he that hates cannot; and so the same result appears from the keenest
hatred and the warmest love. The text illustrates this thought. Two classes are here described as
following the steps of the Saviour and constantly attending them: those that were attracted to Him
because they liked to hear His word; and those who hated Him and His word, and yet, under the spell
of an irresistible fascination, could not forsake Him. The Pharisees and scribes were as constant in
their attendance as the publicans and sinners who gathered together to hear Him.
I. Why did the publicans and sinners draw near to Christ? (1) First of all—and this is the simplest
thought—because He did not frown them away. He did not scorn them, as the Pharisees and scribes
did. He was willing to let them come near. (2) The publicans and sinners came near to Christ, not
simply because He was willing to allow them to approach Him, but because they heard from Him
words which they heard from no one else. They heard Him and marvelled; for He spake as one having
authority, and not as the scribes. As it was with Christ, so must it be with the Christian Church, if she
would be faithful to her Lord. If we have reached the time when publicans and sinners are afraid to
come near us, we have need to look to ourselves and ask the reason.
II. Notice the fascination connected with envy and hatred and opposition that is indicated in this
second verse. The Pharisees and scribes, noticing how the publicans came round Christ, murmured.
They thought themselves the best people of the day. A very strict sect were they, very observant of all

28. ecclesiastical order, very careful in their observance of the prescribed feasts, very exact in tithing all
their property, making their prayers and keeping the feasts very duly. These people thought it a very
hard thing, that this man should allow these unlettered, ignorant people to come so close to him. They
said, "This man receiveth sinners and eateth with them." You see there is an intensified charge. It was
bad enough to receive them, but it was ten times worse to sit down and eat with them. "That miserable
collector of taxes, that apostate Jew, that man who is a badge of submission to Rome—that he should
come and be received and allowed to sit down at the same table; and that poor woman—surely if this
man were a prophet he would know what manner of woman it is that is touching him—for she is a
sinner." That is the spirit of the Pharisees and the scribes. Let us search ourselves, for that spirit is not
yet cast out of the Christian Church.
J. Edmund, Penny Pulpit, new series, No. 543
The crowds which gathered about our Lord in the course of His mission were eminently representative
of the various phases of Jewish life and thought. They consisted of men drawn from all ranks and
classes of society. Women and children and stained outcasts are at the least equally among His
intimates with social magnates and learned men. There is no discriminating Shibboleth to sift the
miscellaneous gathering. No eclectic followers are permitted to check free access to the Master. There
is no "fencing of the tables" at which He sits; no rebuff for ignorance; no rejection of humility and
wretchedness. The net is cast abroad and its sweep is undiscriminating and universal. Of all these
types of society, that of the Pharisee is perhaps the most marked, and the characteristics of it have
acquired most popular recognition. We may recognise several distinct ideas associated with it.
I. One is that of exclusiveness or spiritual pride. If there is one great practical lesson, before all others
running through the teaching of Christ, and imparting a principle of radical change into the scheme of
life, it is summed in these words, "The last shall be first and the first last." This doctrine is the first step
in the organisation, so to say, of the kingdom of heaven. This is the first in order of all those paradoxes
which constitute the sum of Christianity. It was this which, in the first centuries of its spread, was such
an outrage upon society at large, such an enigma to the dispassionate observer, and, as Gibbon has
justly observed, was one great element of its triumph. The outcast was no longer an outcast. The
despised and rejected of men has become the very pattern of the noblest life. And herein lay the
essential antagonism to the spirit which possessed the Pharisee. Exclusion was his ideal. He clung to it
as his heaven-conferred heritage. Christ broke down the walls of partition. The kingdom of heaven
came not to a favoured few, not to the elect or the predestinate, but to all.
II. Another note or characteristic of the Pharisaic type is formalism. Formalism may be explained as an
exaggerated stress laid upon ceremonial, upon formularies, and upon ordinances—as the elevation, in
short, of the mechanism of life in comparison with the life itself. It is not to be supposed that all, or
indeed the greater part of those in whom this tendency exists, are making an ostentatious display of
righteousness, or are assuming a disguise to cloke their hidden propensities, nor yet that they are
themselves conscious of the unsubstantial nature of the manifestations of their religious life. There are
but few, I suppose, who do not at times succumb, out of sheer weariness, to the temptation to rest
content with seeming instead of being, to substitute a mechanical goodness for genuineness of life, a
conventional orthodoxy for the unquiet pursuit of reality. There is a petty and stagnant life, the
backwater, so to say, of the enlarged activities and sympathies of the world (a kind of village existence),
in which, from the absence of all scale, unessential things assume a factitious importance, and the
activity, for want of a nobler outlet, finds vent in trifles. That there is a compatibility of genuine piety,
and the most narrow formalism, is a fact which meets us at every turn. But in proportion as knowledge
becomes complete, as darkness melts into light, in such proportion are the means and outward
expression of life lost sight of, swallowed up in the complete freedom of life itself. This was the lesson
of St. Paul to the Judaizers of Galatia. It is not the sacrament, he says; it is not circumcision which
availeth aught, it is faith; not the form, but the essence; not the letter that killeth, but the spirit that