The object of the parable before us, is explained by Christ Himself. To use the words of an old divine, “The key hangs at the door.”–“He spake a parable to this end; that men ought always to pray, and not to faint.” These words, be it remembered, are closely connected with the solemn doctrine of the second advent, with which the preceding chapter concludes. It is prayer without fainting, during the long weary interval between the first and second advents, which Jesus is urging His disciples to keep up. In that interval we ourselves are standing. The subject therefore is one which ought to possess a special interest in our eyes.

These verses teach us firstly, the great importance of perseverance in prayer. Our Lord conveys this lesson by telling the story of a friendless widow, who obtained justice from a wicked magistrate, by dint of sheer importunity.–“Though I fear not God, nor regard man,” said the unjust judge, “yet because this widow troubleth me, I will avenge her, lest by her continual coming she weary me.”–Our Lord Himself supplies the application of the parable: “Hear what the unjust judge saith. Shall not God avenge His own elect, which cry day and night unto Him, though He bear long with them?” If importunity obtains so much from a wicked man, how much more will it obtain for the children of God from the Righteous Judge, their Father in heaven!

The subject of these verses is one of peculiar solemnity. It is the second advent of our Lord Jesus Christ. That great event, and the things immediately connected with it, are here described by our Lord’s own lips.

We should observe, for one thing, in these verses, what a fearful picture our Lord gives of the state of the professing Church at His second coming. We are told that as it was in the “days of Noah,” and in the “days of Lot,” “so shall it be in the day when the Son of man is revealed.” The character of those days we are not left to conjecture. We are told distinctly, that men were entirely taken up with eating, drinking, marrying, buying, selling, planting, building,–and would attend to nothing else. The flood came at last in Noah’s day, and drowned all except those who were in the ark. The fire fell from heaven at last in Lot’s day, and destroyed all except Lot, his wife, and his daughters. And our Lord declares most plainly that like things will happen when He comes again at the end of the world. “When they shall say, Peace and safety; then sudden destruction comes upon them.” (1 Thess. 5:3)

We are taught, firstly, in this passage that the kingdom of God is utterly unlike the kingdoms of this world. The Lord Jesus tells the Pharisees that “it cometh not with observation.” He meant by this that its approach and presence were not to be marked by outward signs of dignity. Those who expected to observe anything of this kind would be disappointed. They would wait and watch for such a kingdom in vain, while the real kingdom would be in the midst of them without their knowing it. “Behold,” He says, “the kingdom of God is within you.”

The expression which our Lord here uses describes exactly the beginning of His spiritual kingdom. It began in a manger at Bethlehem, without the knowledge of the great, the rich, and the wise. It appeared suddenly in the temple at Jerusalem, and no one but Simeon and Anna recognized its King. It was received thirty years after by none but a few fishermen and publicans in Galilee. The rulers and Pharisees had no eyes to see it. The King came to His own, and His own received Him not. All this time the Jews professed to be waiting for the kingdom. But they were looking in the wrong direction. They were waiting for signs which they had no warrant for expecting. The kingdom of God was actually in the midst of them! Yet they could not see it!

Let us mark, firstly, in this passage, how earnestly men can cry for help when they feel their need of it. We read that “as our Lord entered into a certain village there met him ten men that were lepers.” It is difficult to conceive any condition more thoroughly miserable than that of men afflicted with leprosy. They were cast out from society. They were cut off from all communion with their fellows. The men described in the passage before us appear to have been truly sensible of their wretchedness. They “stood afar off;”–but they did not stand idly doing nothing. “They lifted up their voices and said, Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” They felt acutely the deplorable state of their bodies. They found words to express their feelings. They cried earnestly for relief when a chance of relief appeared in sight.

The conduct of the ten lepers is very instructive. It throws light on a most important subject in practical Christianity, which we can never understand too well. That subject is prayer.

Let us notice, in these verses, the important request which the apostles made. They said unto the Lord, “Increase our faith.”

We know not the secret feelings from which this request sprung. Perhaps the hearts of the apostles failed within them, as they heard one weighty lesson after another fall from our Lord’s lips. Perhaps the thought rose up in their minds, “Who is sufficient for these things? Who can receive such high doctrines? Who can follow such a lofty standard of practice?” These, however, are only conjectures. One thing, at any rate, is clear and plain. The request which they made was most deeply important: “Increase our faith.”

We are taught for one thing in these verses, the great sinfulness of putting stumbling-blocks in the way of other men’s souls. The Lord Jesus says, “Woe unto him through whom offences come! It were better for him that a mill-stone were hung about his neck, and he cast into the sea, than that he should offend one of these little ones.”

When do men make others stumble? When do they cause “offences” to come? They do it, beyond doubt, whenever they persecute believers, or endeavour to deter them from serving Christ.–But this, unhappily, is not all. Professing Christians do it whenever they bring discredit on their religion by inconsistencies of temper, of word, or of deed. We do it whenever we make our Christianity unlovely in the eyes of the world, by conduct not in keeping with our profession. The world may not understand the doctrines and principles of believers. But the world is very keen-sighted about their practice.

The parable we have now read, in one respect stands alone in the Bible. It is the only passage of Scripture which describes the feelings of the unconverted after death. For this reason, as well as for many others, the parable deserves especial attention.

We learn, firstly, from this parable, that a man’s worldly condition is no test of his state in the sight of God. The Lord Jesus describes to us two men, of whom one was very rich, and the other very poor. The one “fared sumptuously every day.” The other was a mere “beggar,” who had nothing that he could call his own. And yet of these two the poor man had grace, and the rich had none. The poor man lived by faith, and walked in the steps of Abraham. The rich man was a thoughtless, selfish worldling, dead in trespasses and sins.

These verses teach us, firstly, the uselessness of attempting to serve God with a divided heart. Our Lord Jesus Christ says, “No servant can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one and love the other: or else he will hold to the one and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.”

The truth here propounded by our Lord appears, at first sight, too obvious to admit of being disputed. And yet the very attempt which is here declared to be useless is constantly being made by many in the matter of their souls. Thousands on every side are continually trying to do the thing which Christ pronounces impossible. They are endeavouring to be friends of the world and friends of God at the same time. Their consciences are so far enlightened, that they feel they must have some religion. But their affections are so chained down to earthly things, that they never come up to the mark of being true Christians. And hence they live in a state of constant discomfort. They have too much religion to be happy in the world, and they have too much of the world in their hearts to be happy in their religion. In short, they waste their time in labouring to do that which cannot be done. They are striving to “serve God and mammon.”

The passage we have now read is a difficult one. There are knots in it which perhaps will never be untied, until the Lord comes again. We might reasonably expect that a book written by inspiration, as the Bible is, would contain things hard to be understood. The fault lies not in the book, but in our own feeble understandings. If we learn nothing else from the passage before us, let us learn humility.

Let us beware, in the first place, that we do not draw from these verses lessons which they were never meant to teach.

The steward, whom our Lord describes, is not set before us as a pattern of morality. He is distinctly called the “unjust steward.” The Lord Jesus never meant to sanction dishonesty, and unfair dealing between man and man. This steward cheated his master, and broke the eighth commandment.–His master was struck with his cunning and forethought, when he heard of it, and “commended” him, as a shrewd and far-seeing man. But there is no proof that his master was pleased with his conduct. Above all, there is not a word to show that the man was praised by Christ. In short, in his treatment of his master, the steward is a beacon to be avoided, and not a pattern to be followed.

These verses form the conclusion of the parable of the prodigal son. They are far less well known than the verses which go before them. But they were spoken by the same lips which described the younger son’s return to his father’s house. Like everything which those lips spoke, they will be found deeply profitable.

We are taught, firstly, in this passage, how unkind and ill-natured are the feelings of self-righteous men towards sinners.

This is a lesson which our Lord conveys to us by describing the conduct of the “elder brother” of the prodigal son. He shows him to us “angry” and finding fault because of the rejoicings over his brother’s return. He shows him complaining that his father treated the returning prodigal too well, and that he himself had not been treated as well as his merits deserved. He shows him utterly unable to share in the joy which prevailed when his younger brother came home, and giving away to ill-natured and envious thoughts. It is a painful picture, but a very instructive one.