**The Parables of the Lost Sheep, the Lost Coin, and the Lost Son**
One day, as Jesus walked through the dusty streets of a small village, a crowd began to gather around Him. Among them were tax collectors, sinners, Pharisees, and teachers of the law. The air was thick with murmurs and whispers, for the religious leaders were grumbling, saying, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them!” Their voices carried a tone of disdain, but Jesus, hearing their words, turned to them with compassion in His eyes. He knew their hearts were hardened, and He sought to soften them with stories that would reveal the heart of God.
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### **The Parable of the Lost Sheep**
Jesus began to speak, His voice steady and warm, like the gentle breeze that swept across the hills. “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them,” He said, His gaze sweeping over the crowd. “Wouldn’t you leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until you find it?”
The people leaned in, captivated by His words. They could picture the scene: a shepherd, his face weathered by the sun, his hands calloused from years of tending his flock. He counts his sheep one by one as they return to the fold at dusk, but one is missing. His heart sinks. Without hesitation, he grabs his staff and sets out into the wilderness, leaving the ninety-nine behind. The night is dark, the terrain treacherous, but he presses on, calling out for the lost sheep. His voice echoes through the valleys, filled with both urgency and hope.
Finally, after hours of searching, he hears a faint bleat. There, tangled in a thicket, is the lost sheep, weary and frightened. The shepherd’s face lights up with joy. He gently untangles the sheep, lifts it onto his shoulders, and carries it home. When he arrives, he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me! I have found my lost sheep!’
Jesus paused, His eyes shining with divine love. “I tell you,” He said, “there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.”
The crowd fell silent, the weight of His words sinking in. The Pharisees shifted uncomfortably, their pride bristling at the implication that sinners were worth such effort. But the sinners in the crowd felt a glimmer of hope, their hearts stirred by the image of a God who would leave everything to find them.
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### **The Parable of the Lost Coin**
Jesus continued, His voice now softer, drawing them in like a father telling a bedtime story. “Or suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one,” He said. “Doesn’t she light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it?”
The people nodded, imagining the scene. A humble home, dimly lit by a single oil lamp. A woman kneels on the dirt floor, her hands trembling as she counts her coins—her life savings. One is missing. She lights another lamp, grabs a broom, and begins to sweep every corner of the house. Dust fills the air as she moves furniture, lifts rugs, and peers into every crevice. Her determination is unwavering, for that coin represents her security, her future.
At last, she spots it—a glint of silver in the flickering light. She picks it up, her face breaking into a smile. Overjoyed, she calls her friends and neighbors and says, ‘Rejoice with me! I have found my lost coin!’
Jesus looked at the crowd, His expression tender yet piercing. “In the same way,” He said, “there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”
The sinners in the crowd felt their hearts swell with gratitude. They realized that, like the lost coin, they were valuable to God, worth every effort to be found. The Pharisees, however, remained unmoved, their hearts still closed to the message of grace.
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### **The Parable of the Lost Son**
Then Jesus told them another story, one that would pierce even the hardest of hearts. “There was a man who had two sons,” He began. The crowd leaned in, sensing that this story would be different. “The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So the father divided his property between them.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd. To ask for one’s inheritance before the father’s death was unthinkable—a grave insult. Yet the father, in his love, granted the request. The younger son took his share and left for a distant country, where he squandered his wealth in wild living. The people could almost see him: a young man, drunk on freedom and foolishness, throwing away his future in pursuit of fleeting pleasures.
But soon, a famine struck the land, and the son found himself in desperate need. He took a job feeding pigs, a humiliating task for a Jew. He was so hungry that he longed to eat the pods the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything. As he sat in the mud, the stench of the pigs filling his nostrils, he came to his senses. “How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare,” he thought, “and here I am starving to death! I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’”
With a heavy heart, he began the long journey home. Meanwhile, his father, who had been watching the horizon every day, saw him while he was still a long way off. Filled with compassion, the father ran to his son, threw his arms around him, and kissed him. The son began his rehearsed speech, but the father interrupted him. “Quick!” he said to his servants. “Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate! For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!”
The celebration began, but the older son, hearing the music and dancing, grew angry. He refused to go in. His father came out and pleaded with him, but the older son replied, “Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!”
The father’s eyes filled with tears. “My son,” he said gently, “you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”
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### **The Heart of the Father**
As Jesus finished the story, the crowd was silent, each person reflecting on its meaning. The sinners saw themselves in the younger son, realizing that no matter how far they had strayed, the Father’s arms were always open to welcome them home. The Pharisees, however, saw themselves in the older son, their self-righteousness exposed by the father’s boundless love.
Jesus looked at them all, His heart full of love and longing. “The Father’s love is not earned,” He seemed to say without words. “It is freely given. Come home, and you will find joy in His presence.”
And so, the stories lingered in their hearts, a testament to the relentless, pursuing love of God—a love that leaves the ninety-nine, sweeps the house, and runs to meet the prodigal. A love that rejoices over every sinner who repents, for in heaven, even the angels celebrate when the lost are found.
