The Lord Jesus is describing us as a lost coin. There is a potential value if he finds us, and if he does something about us, and if he takes us himself. But in our lost state, we are completely useless to God. That is something we need to think about. If I am wandering away from God and I have never sought him and found him, I have got to think about this. I am useless to God. No matter what my pride tells me about myself, I might think if I don't seek after God, I am not interested in him. I might think very well of myself. It might come as a shock to me to learn that in God's book, I am useless, unprofitable, hopeless. I'm unavailable to God.
And not only that, but I am unfit for God. Because I have been far away from him, and because I'm a sinner, because I'm degenerate, and I fall far short of his standards, then, even if in some moment I did decide to serve him, I am useless to him because, actually, I can't communicate with him because I am spiritually dead. I have no living soul. I am not accustomed to prayer. I don't love him and seek after him. I don't see things God's way. If I'm away from God, I think about things my way; I'm on another wavelength.
That lost coin is likely to go out of sight for good, and the woman knows that. In the eastern homes of long ago the floors were simple earth floors in many of the houses, and they would get very much more dusty than would be acceptable today. So if something got lost down in the dust, then the floor would need to be swept and a whole lot of rubbish would be thrown out. If you lost anything for very long, it was probably lost for good. So the lost coin illustration suggests to us not only something that is valueless and useless, but something which is in a hopeless state. That coin, if it's not found, is going to be accidentally swept up, unseen amidst the dirt, and it will be thrown out. That is the same with us. Here we are, with no value to God in this life. We are all out for ourselves. We want to live as though God isn't there. We are of no value to him, and eventually we are going to pass off the scene. But what's going to become of us? We are destined for an eternity swept away from the presence of God. If we live away from him and we don't know him or love him or belong to him, then what happens to us in eternity? We cannot be admitted into heaven because we are sinners. We are unwashed, unforgiven, unrighteous. We have a debt of guilt to pay and God is holy and just and perfect. Even if he was prepared to allow us to enter heaven, – which he is not – his very character would destroy us because he is holy, and his eternal presence must destroy all unrighteousness. So if we haven't been washed clean and prepared by him and blessed and forgiven before we die, all is hopeless for us. God cannot allow heaven to be polluted and we have decided against him all our lives. We have said no to Him. That is our vote.
But a lost coin also pictures us in other ways because actually that lost coin is pretty helpless. Whoever heard of a coin, that was lost down in the dirt somewhere, suddenly springing up by itself and saying, ‘Here I am; you can spend me.’ Of course, a coin is an inanimate thing. It's the last thing it's going to do. If it isn't found by someone, it isn't going to arise by itself. That too is a tragic picture of us, because the trouble with us is, with our stubbornness and our pride, we don't accept that we are lost. We won't have it. Unless God disturbs our minds and our hearts and makes us begin to feel wretched and lost, we are too proud to even feel lost. We don't accept that we are away from God and that we need salvation. We regard the gospel as a very tiresome and a very offensive message. And so we are last people to go searching for God and to ask him for help, to ask him to forgive us and to convert us and bring us to himself. The coin is inanimate, and viewed spiritually so are we in our lost condition. That coin isn't going to ask for help. It isn't going to ask to be found. And neither do we. There isn't any one of us will ask for God's help unless God takes the initiative and stirs our hearts with his finger of self-examination. We don't know our destiny. We are numbed to our danger. There's a coin down there, but it doesn't know it's about to be trodden on, and eventually pushed out, and neither are we.
The coin is lost in the dust and it's only found when the woman here gets hold of a broom and begins to raise the dust. When she sweeps for all she's worth, then eventually in some corner, in some nook or cranny, she finds this lost coin. This is the trouble. The coin might be bright silver but it has fallen into some corner and it's hidden there in the dirt. That too is a perfect picture of us. We set out in this world. We don't want God. We are very pleased with ourselves, and proud of ourselves, but the trouble with us is we are not only sinners against him when we start, and selfish and weak, but the things we do make matters worse, make our condition much worse. We become saturated with this world. We want to go in for certain entertainments; we want to indulge in sensual sins; we want to get round us all the possessions we can have. We go for power and esteem, and we get deep into the things we want, and those things in their turn pollute us and captivate us, even more than we were when we started. So there's much less chance of our turning to God. The coin is lost, but consider where it is lost. It's down in a crevice or a little gully somewhere and the dirt has covered it over for a while, and now it's even less likely to be found. As we get older, we get into all kinds of sin and greed and possessiveness, and these things take us over and we are even less likely to turn to God for help, because it means giving up those things. We have grown to love those sins and to desperately need those sins. We have no communion with God, no power or self-control over our sin, no peace in our hearts. No understanding of those things.
What does the woman do when she really wants to find the coin? The first thing she does, of course, is light a candle. She's got to be able to see what she's doing. No good hunting in the dark. You've got to throw light on the scene. What darkness we are in before we understand the gospel. The darkness of wrong ideas. Are we atheists when we first hear the gospel? It's as though a light shines and we grasp that atheism is no explanation at all for my very existence and my complexity and my emotions and sensitivities. I am a created being; there is a God and that chimes with my instinct that there is a God and there is eternal life. Then perhaps the idea that somebody once told me that God is an impersonal force. How can an impersonal force make people who are personal, who would be in a sense greater than the Creator if he is only an impersonal force. The light dispels these things. As you push things aside and look underneath things, you've got to take the candle with you. You search with the light. That is how God searches for us. That is how he finds us. I am a lost soul. I don't understand about religious things. I don't understand about God. I don't even see my own heart and why I need to be forgiven. Then God brings his word into my life, the Bible, the light. Somebody preaches it to me, or perhaps some friend explains it to me. Maybe I read it for myself. But it's like throwing light on the scene. God speaks to me through his word, and I begin to understand that I'm a lost sinner. God is full of mercy and ready to forgive me and personally bring me to himself. That's the light streaming into my life.
Then comes the broom. You see, I'm so stubborn, and I'm so rebellious before I'm converted, that something more is needed. This dirt that I'm in needs to be dislodged a little. Needs to be loosened. It's got to be swept around, and the dust has got to fly a bit. And that's a picture, too. I understand intellectually now from the light that I am a sinner, that I need forgiveness. Yes, but I don't feel myself to be a sinner. I'm still in my pride, and I need to be disturbed a bit. I need to be shaken. God does that in all manner of ways. Some friend says, I came to church first, and I heard the message of salvation, and I decided that that was insulting. I wasn't going to listen to that again, but God made me come back. He made me feel uneasy. He began to humble me, and to make me realize that this applied to me. I was the one that needed to be changed, that was in deep trouble spiritually, and under eternal condemnation.
But God spares no labour. This woman is not going to stop until she finds that coin. What a picture of effort and application and pain. She spares no labour, and that is what Christ had to do. God has a great problem when it comes to saving you and I. We can apply this to the need for Christ to make an atonement, and that must be explained in every gospel sermon. The problem is, how can God forgive you your sins? How can God forgive you and decide not to punish you when he has said he will and overlook your sin? God is holy and absolutely just, and he must deal with sin. He must punish it. How can God judge and punish you and me and at the same time express his mercy and his love towards us? God himself had to come and take the punishment. God had to make an atoning sacrifice. The woman with her effort and her broom and her searching, is just a tiny glimpse, but nothing like adequate to show the lengths to which God was prepared to go to find his lost ones. Christ came himself, and went to the cross of Calvary. He and allowed himself to be nailed to that cross, but that wasn't the totality of his suffering. The real suffering came when God put upon him all the guilt of sin of those who were to be forgiven and punished him instead of us. He took my sin away. He took my pain and my suffering. He took my eternity of condemnation, motivated by amazing love.