Matthew 18:10-14
The Rev. Dr. Robert S. Langworthy, preaching
September 6, 2026
A decade and a half ago, US Airways flight 1549 took off from New York’s LaGuardia’s Airport and immediately ran into a flock of geese. The collision knocked the two engines of the plane out of commission. The pilot, Capt. Sully Sullenberger, made an emergency landing in the frigid winter waters of the Hudson River. Because there was no telling how long the plane would stay afloat, Sully searched through the plane twice to make sure everyone had left before he got out. He knew he was there to save those under his care, whatever the cost.
Almost exactly to the day three years later, the cruise ship Costa Concordia, transporting 4,000 passengers, ran into rocks and started to take water. The accident occurred, later investigations showed, due to the ship’s captain, Francesco Schettino, failing to pay attention to how his ship was veering off course because he was focused on impressing a young female show dancer. The ship began to list and sink. Schettino somehow got into a lifeboat before everyone else had made it off the ship. A coast guard member reached him by cell phone and, swearing, shouted at him not to abandon ship but to get back onboard to help. But he stayed in the lifeboat, as 32 people died. The courts found him derelict in duty, guilty of manslaughter, and sentenced him to ten years in prison.
And many Christians get themselves saved and give no thought to being a part of the rescue of others!
As Jesus walked this earth, he drew the interest of many – and some resented His having less time for them because He was spending time with just anybody, most particularly those they dismissed as inconsequential and unworthy of His concern, even though He affectionately called them His “little ones”. Scholars debate whether Jesus was referring to small children, people who back then were almost never doted upon as they often are today, or to new born Christians, people who lacked wisdom and experience in their faith and thus the capacity to make much of what Jesus was offering. Either way, Jesus warned folks not to “despise” anyone. He reminded them that everyone has angels in heaven before the face of God to whom they matter mightily.
At this point, Matthew in his Gospel cites a parable of Jesus that most of us know from Luke’s Gospel. The parable illustrates God’s diligent effort to search for and rescue every single lost lamb who’ll let Him, that He with His friends might rejoice in bringing another one home.
The part of Palestine in Jesus’ day where sheep grazed is terrain that makes it easy for them to lose their way and put their life at risk. The vegetation is sparse and they must wander hither and yon to locate dinner. The ground is treacherous, with many precipitous ravines and gullies on which sheep can lose their footing and fall into a crevice from which they can’t escape. Shepherds back then developed keen skills in tracking repeatedly lost lambs. Because it was such a hard and continuous job, they all took a communal approach in tending their flocks. Each shepherd kept an eye out for each other’s sheep, especially if one of them had to leave his 99 unattended in order to scour the acres to find the one who’d gone missing. In other words, everyone had a sense of mutual responsibility and pitched in to do something to help save a sheep. Because they valued lambs highly and knew what it was like to have one unaccounted-for, they worked together, and all rejoiced whenever a previously lost lamb was brought home.
The Lord is a Good Shepherd who seeks to save every human lamb. Thus, summing up His parable, Jesus warned those who denigrated some as people not to be bothered about, “It is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones be lost.”
To follow the Son of God is to imitate Him in so valuing the human lambs who’ve lost their way that we can’t take the risk of trusting them to get home on their own, but must go out in a diligent search-and-rescue effort lest any perish – even those lost lambs who are frequent “repeat offenders” in getting lost.
On the Christian blog, Mockingbird, a man named David Zahl composed a playful (but serious!) sequel to Jesus’ parable of the prodigal son. With a sanctified imagination, Zahl wrote, “Almost five years to the day after he’d returned home, the prodigal son emptied his bank account, packed his suitcase, and snuck off to a faraway country. Again.
“The first year back, he’d just been glad to be home. The second year was the hardest as he couldn’t get rid of the shame that chewed away at his soul. The third year, things leveled out a bit and he felt more in synch with the family’s ways. The fourth year, the family ways began to irk him, and the itches he’d scratched before demanded to be scratched once more. Then the fifth year, all the past allurements pounded on the front door of his heart and eventually barged in. And the prodigal son relapsed, ran away again, re-sinned and re-destroyed his life.”
Zahl observed, “You know him – or her. Maybe it’s your best friend. Maybe it’s your child. Or maybe it’s you. The thing you swore you’d never do again, you did just last night. You strayed from the straight and narrow. Prodigals have a way of ending up back in the pigsty.
”In the pigsty,” Zahl reflects, “heaven and hell contend within you. Hell shouts, ‘Now you’ve gone and done it, you stupid piece of garbage. You’re a lost, hopeless cause. You’re a pig, and that’s all you’ll ever be.’ But there is another voice, the voice of heaven.” You recognize the loving lilt of a gracious Father’s kind voice. It echoes down the long halls of hope, down to the deepest darkest caverns of your despair. It doesn’t accuse you or berate you: It only speaks the words of longing, redeeming love: “I want you home with me as much as ever.”
Maybe it’s the third time this has happened. Maybe it’s the hundredth. But every time it does happen, the Good Father, the Good Shepherd, is still shading his eyes against the sun’s glare, to scrutinize every crook and cranny of the wilderness to catch sight of you; and every time He is still on the move, never resting, never avoiding the dangerous places, looking high and low for you, wherever you might be and however unable you might be to help Him much in His work of saving You.
To the Good Shepherd, you are worth the trouble and pain. He misses each one’s who’s gone missing, and He won’t give up on trying to make each one’s homecoming stick at last. That’s just who the Good Shepherd is.
The followers of Jesus are His under-shepherds who for Him go out to scour every inch of the land to locate those who’ve wandered away. His friends strive to rescue those lost, trapped lambs in the wilderness. His friends pull those willing to be helped out of their traps, hug them without reproach or lecture, and invite them to come back home with them to enjoy a feast thrown in their honor.
Before us today is a feast of grace. The Lord will miss everyone who’ll be missing from His table today. Won’t we find a few and bring them?
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