P.O. Box 53055    
Los Angeles, CA 90053   

THE MOUSE LOOKING FOR THE CAT

There are a lot of pretty poems about ‘Man’s search for God.’ And maybe you have read some books, and slipped into the back of a darkened chapel, or even scanned the radio dial to find the voice of a preacher. Well, friend, this preacher is here to say that it’s God who is looking for you.

It’s one of the great chase stories I’ve ever heard of, although I don’t suppose Hollywood will ever make a high-octane, tire-screeching film about it in the genre of The Fast and the Furious or The French Connection. But in his autobiography, entitled Surprised By Joy, C. S. Lewis tells how he was the object of a very intense manhunt. He was the chase-ee, not the chaser, and it got to where, as the quarry, he was firmly in the enemy’s sights. There was no escape.

Chapter Eleven of his book is entitled “Check,” and then, right near the end, Chapter Fourteen, is the one-word title: “Checkmate.”

“My Adversary began to make His final moves,” he writes.

Now, young Jack Lewis was a determined atheist. He was happy as an atheist. He was devoted to being an atheist. He tried to organize his thoughts around atheistic concepts and ideals. But, in the background, in the lurking shadows of his scholarship and his reading and his midnight reflections, he began to fear that God was, after all . . . well, God. God was his Creator, his Ruler. He could close his eyes and try to block it out, but God was still out there. And God was making His move. Lewis finally came face to face with the reality that God simply WAS. “I am the Lord.” Or, more simply: “I am.”

And he makes this confession:

“People who are naturally religious find difficulty in understanding the horror of such a revelation. Amiable agnostics will talk cheerfully about ‘man’s search for God.’” Now notice this telling metaphor: “To me, as I then was, they might as well have talked about the mouse’s search for the cat.”

So, in terms of a DreamWorks movie, Lewis was roaring down the Interstate, weaving in and out of traffic, going the wrong way on one-way streets, cutting corners, trying to get away . . . and God was after him. God was chasing, desperately searching for the heart and soul of this brilliant but confused atheist. And He finally rescued him. Morris Venden tells about the man who stood up in a revival meeting, and with tears in his eyes, said: “All my life God chased me and chased me . . . and He finally got me.”

Well, friend, I guess this points out the most important truth in our parable for the week — about the ninety-nine sheep who are safely home, and the one that is lost on the hills. And that truth is that the Shepherd goes out looking for the sheep; the sheep is not looking for the Shepherd. This tender Person with the rod and the staff and the oil of comfort to put on the sheep’s head, this gentle Caregiver with the strong arms and the caressing hands . . . He takes the initiative by going out into the gloom to find His one lost sheep.

“If a man has a hundred sheep,” Jesus asks, “and just one of them gets lost, doesn’t he leave the others at home and PERSONALLY go out and search everywhere to find that one lost sheep?”

The Adventist Bible Commentary for Matthew makes this point so well. Notice:

“God has taken the initiative in effecting man’s salvation,” they write. “Salvation consists, not in man’s search for God, but in God’s search for man.” Then they add this: “Human reasoning sees in religion nothing more than human attempts to find peace of soul and to solve the mystery of existence, to find a solution to the difficulties and uncertainties of life. It is true that deep within the human heart there is a longing for these things, BUT . . . man of himself can never find God. The glory of the Christian religion is that it knows a God who cares for man so much that he left everything else to ‘seek and to save that which was lost.’” (That’s Luke 19:10.)

It’s true, isn’t it, that many a person in the gutter has said to themselves: “I need something better. I need God.” And yes, they get up and stagger to the nearest chapel. But who put that impulse in their heart? Who directs their steps to the chapel? Who puts a loving preacher or friend in that chapel at the right moment? Friend, let’s never think that we can get from the wilderness of lost-ness back to the fold by ourselves. It has never worked that way, and it never will.

This isn’t to say that the lost sheep isn’t aware that it’s lost. It knows that it’s lost. Theologians sometimes point out that in this parable, the sheep represents people who are lost — and know it — and the lost-coin parable, which follows right after in the Luke 15 trilogy, is a metaphor for people who are lost and DON’T know it. In both cases, God comes looking. But most of us who find ourselves out in the weeds of iniquity, of loneliness . . . we know full well that we’re lost! We know we’re a long ways away from the safety of God’s house. But our attempts to find our own way home are doomed to fail. That same Bible commentary I just mentioned adds this thought:

“The fact that the sheep became lost was evidently due to its own ignorance and folly,” they point out – and we might sometimes add: rebellion. Some of us just plain stomp out into the woods. “And once lost it seemed completely helpless to find its way back. It realized that it was lost, but knew not what to do about this. The one lost sheep represents both the individual sinner and the one world that has been lost. This parable teaches that Jesus would have died had there been but one sinner, as He did die for the one world that had sinned.” Then, just a bit later in the text, they add: “Left to ourselves we might seek for Him throughout eternity without finding Him.”

Some of the world’s great religions mark out a map for men and women to try to find God, to make their own way home. But friend, the Christian story is this parable right here. We’re lost. We can’t get home. And God comes to find us. Corporately, globally, that is the Calvary saga, of course. God coming to rescue this one planet through the gift of His Son. And then for each of us — for you and for me — the Father shows this same initiative.

There’s a superb book dating back to the late 1800s, entitled Christ’s Object Lessons. And the writer, the gifted Ellen G. White — many of you are devoted fans, I’m sure — has some heart-stirring things to say about the status of this lost sheep. In the chapter, “This Man Receiveth Sinners” — which we’ll comment about later — she says this:

“The soul that has wandered away from God . . . is as helpless as the lost sheep, and unless divine love had come to his rescue he could never find his way to God.”

And of course, the Shepherd knows our helplessness. He’s not angry; He’s not impatient. He knows we are but sheep. And how does He respond, knowing our situation? The same writer adds this:

“The darker and more tempestuous the night and the more perilous the way, the greater is the shepherd’s anxiety and the more earnest his search. He makes every effort to find that one lost sheep.”

We get letters here at Box 53055, and the writers describe horrific scenes of their own lost-ness. I mean, they are MILES out there in the forest. They’re in the deepest of spiritual ravines. Friend, all that means is that Jesus is even more eager to find them. The deeper the pit, the more desperate His search, and the more complete His dedication to the journey.

And you know, if you and I can’t find our way back home, what CAN we do? What is our role out there in the tall weeds with the sin and the snakes? Ellen White shares this remedy — and how very true:

“Every one that will SUBMIT to be ransomed, Christ will rescue from the pit of corruption and from the briers of sin.”

I suppose that the lost little lamb was too small and too weak to protest — if it even wanted to — when the strong Shepherd scooped it up and carried it back home. But it’s reality that if you and I say, “No! Go away! I WISH to be left alone! I choose this ravine and these rags and these rocks!”, the Rescuer would sadly return home empty-handed. We have to submit; we have to climb into His net and allow Him to pull us to safety.

Final thought — and this is so encouraging:

“Desponding soul, take courage, even though you have done wickedly,” this same writer tells us. “Do not think that perhaps God will pardon your transgressions and permit you to come into His presence. GOD HAS MADE THE FIRST ADVANCE! While you were in rebellion against Him, He went forth to seek you. With the tender heart of the shepherd He left the ninety and nine and went out into the wilderness to find that which was lost. The soul, bruised and wounded and ready to perish, He encircles in His arms of love and joyfully bears it to the fold of safety.”

Wouldn’t you like to find yourself in those arms right now? To know that Jesus loves you and is even now carrying you home to the Father? Friend, this is the only time I can think of where the other person says “Checkmate” . . . and you win.