The text for our meditation on God’s Holy Word is the Gospel lesson appointed for the day. I bring you grace, mercy, and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
The parable that we have before us today in Luke’s Gospel is one of the most familiar stories in the Bible. I’m certain that most of you could tell this story almost exactly as it is written out in the Bible. But what we might not be able to do is to put it in context-- or explain to someone who didn’t know the parable- why Jesus spoke it and to who and when. And so that is where we will begin this morning. Luke writes that:
The tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to hear Jesus. And the Pharisees and the scribes grumbled, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.”
This little introduction is critical to understanding this parable. Jesus’ ministry was bearing fruit. People were taking to heart the words he spoke, repenting of their sins, and beginning to follow him as his disciples. All kinds of people. People who were known in their communities as notorious sinners. Tax collectors. Women caught in the very act of adultery. Roman soldiers. And the hated Samaritans.
And rather than keeping them at arm’s length, Jesus welcomed them and fellowshipped with them. And the Pharisees didn’t like it one little bit. Time and time again they said that if this Jesus were any kind of rabbi, any kind of prophet—if he were a man of God he would know what kind of people he was associating with. But of course, he did.
The charge the religious leaders of the Jews made against him: that Jesus received sinners and ate with them—they meant as a harsh rebuke—but they are some of the sweetest words in all of the Bible and are absolutely true. Thank God!—Jesus does receive sinners and fellowships with them.
Jesus wanted the Pharisees and scribes to understand why this was such good news—not only for the notorious sinners—but also for those whose self-righteousness blinded them to their own need to be received and welcomed by Jesus. And so he told them this parable:
“There was a man who had two sons. And the younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of property that is coming to me.’ And he divided his property between them.
Can you imagine going to your parents and saying, “Just curious, how much am I going to get from you when you’re dead—and, by the way, can I have my cut now”—caring more for what we can get out of our parents-- than our relationship with our parents. It’s pretty shocking—but it’s just exactly how we often treat God.
We want a financially successful life but we don’t want God’s counsel on how to spend our money and certainly don’t want to return just a small tithe to him as a thank-offering. We want a happy marriage but we don’t want to order our lives as men and women by his Word. We want good health—but not so that we can serve him—but so that we can pursue our own agenda. We want all of the good things that our heavenly Father provides, but we don’t want him overly involved in our lives.
But the Bible teaches just the opposite: that the kindness and goodness of God is meant to lead us to repentance. In other words, the material blessings we receive from God are given so that we are drawn to God himself. That relationship is what really matters. But because of our selfish human hearts, often times material blessings push us away from God. They certainly did for the younger Son. Jesus said that:
Not many days later, the younger son gathered all he had and took a journey into a far country, and there he squandered his property in reckless living. And when he had spent everything, a severe famine arose in that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed pigs. And he was longing to be fed with the pods that the pigs ate, and no one gave him anything.
Everything that the younger son desired and sought apart from life with his Father—he lost. Everything! He went from plenty to poverty—he went from freedom to servitude—he went from a son to a servant. This is what happens when we pursue a life away from God. Another time Jesus asked, “What does it profit a man to gain the world and lose his soul?” And another time he warned us that if our desire is to hold on to this life—in other words, if our hands are full of the things of this world, we will lose our life for eternity.
If you had told this young man that this was the direction that his life would take, he would have never believed you because he thought he had it all. But this is always the course that sin takes in human lives. The Bible says that desire gives birth to sin and sin brings forth death. That is what we see in this young man’s life—he could not have sunk any lower.
Decent Jews would have been horrified to be close to pigs. To be reduced to caring for them would have been unimaginable. But to desire to eat from the same trough—this was degradation beyond belief. And yet, as low as he had sunk—he was not beyond hope-- because he had a father who loved him.
So long as you have breath in your body—so long as your heart is beating—no matter what you have done—no matter how you have squandered the treasures of life God has given you—you are still objects of the Father’s love and he will graciously and providentially work in your lives to bring you to himself.
That work begins with seeing the truth about ourselves-- just like it did for the young man. Jesus says that when he came to himself, he said:
‘How many of my father's hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”’
He came to himself. This is the heart of repentance—that we finally come to a place where we see the truth about ourselves: that our lives lived apart from God are sins against heaven and sins against those around us—and that we are not worthy to be called God’s sons and daughters.
The young man had to have his head in a trough with pigs for companions to see that truth. Hopefully we can come to the same place of repentance without having to fall so far. But no matter how far we have or have not fallen—the young man’s confession must become our own: we have sinned against God and against those around us (whatever form that takes in our individual lives) and that life with the Father is infinitely greater than anything that we could make for ourselves apart from him.
You see, it was not just the truth about himself he saw—it was also the truth about his father. Given everything that he had done: the words that he had spoken to his father—the attitude he had towards his father—the way that he had wasted all that the father had given him—how far into disgrace he had fallen—he still knew that his father loved him and would welcome him home.
And this is really the key to his journey home—what he knew about his father-- rather than his own repentance.
If we are truly reflective about our lives of faith, we know how often our most sincere-sounding words of repentance are really self-serving. We’re sorry that we got caught. We’re sorry about the consequences of our actions. And we want to make some deal with God. That’s what the young man did. Even in that moment of repentance he still wanted to dictate to his father the terms of his return.
Fortunately for him—and fortunately for us when it comes to our heavenly Father—the welcome we receive when we come to ourselves is much more about who God is-- rather than the purity of our repentance. Jesus says that the young man:
Arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to celebrate.
While he was still a long way off! Those are some of the sweetest words in all of Holy Scripture! The son’s trust in the father’s love and compassion was not misplaced. The father had been longing for the son’s return all along—never once had he said “good riddance to bad rubbish” –his eyes were always looking to the horizon in hope—and while his son was still a long way off, his father saw him and had compassion on him and ran to him and embraced him and kissed him.
In that day, grown men did not run anywhere—it was undignified. And they certainly didn’t run out to meet disobedient, disrespectful children. And they most certainly didn’t engage in this embarrassing, undignified spectacle of hugging and kissing a wayward child. But this father did—such was his love for the son.
Bible scholars have read this story and wondered where the atonement is that reconciles the father and son. After all, isn’t that the central teaching of the Bible and why does Jesus leave it out. But it’s there—it’s in the scandal and shame of the father’s love that casts aside his dignity to embrace the sinner.
This is the love and compassion that the God-enfleshed Savior of the world showed upon the cross. The Bible says of Jesus that:
He did not count equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.
These are the lengths to which God will go to welcome sinners and make them his children—finding us when we were lost and calling us from death to life.
The younger son had his speech all ready: Father I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. But before he could say another word—the father restored him to his rightful place as his son. That is what the robe and the ring and the sandals all meant: that this sinner was now a son-- by virtue of the father’s love. And that called for a celebration. Jesus says that:
“Now his older son was in the field, and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the servants and asked what these things meant. And he said to him, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fattened calf, because he has received him back safe and sound.’ But he was angry and refused to go in. His father came out and entreated him, but he answered his father, ‘Look, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him!’
About 1,000 years before this parable, the prophet Nathan went to King David and told him a parable about a rich man who had vast flocks of sheep and yet he stole a poor man’s little pet lamb, killing it, and eating it. David was outraged at the injustice of it, and ordered that the man be killed. Nathan pointed to David and said: You’re the man. David had stolen another man’s wife and had her husband put to death and refused to repent of what he had done and would have gone on living alienated from God if Nathan had not retold his story with a parable so that David’s defenses were down.
That’s exactly what Jesus is doing in this story. The Pharisees and religious leaders of the Jews are the older brother in the parable--scrupulous in how they lived-- and merciless with those who didn’t measure up-- and they resented the compassion that Jesus showed to sinners. But what is so very important to remember is that Jesus loved the Pharisees too—in fact, it was for the Jews—first of all—that he had come.
And so Jesus told this parable to get them to see the truth about themselves: that they ought to be rejoicing to see sinners welcomed back into the family of God—that all men, whether Jew or Gentile, were ultimately God’s children whom he loved. Their lack of joy to see a sinner saved was a real problem because Jesus had told them that heaven itself rejoiced in a sinner being saved even more than for those who didn’t need saving.
But what they also failed to see about themselves is how their own lives with God were not what they were supposed to be-- and so Jesus held up the mirror of the older son so that they could see how far they had fallen from what God wants from his children.
The older son saw his life as that of a slave rather than a son-- and his father as a master whose commands must be obeyed rather than a father whose words are received with thanksgiving—he didn’t count his life with his father as a blessing to be enjoyed but a duty to be endured--and he was just as much concerned with getting his share as was the younger son-- and embittered when he thought he was shortchanged by the father.
It is so easy for us who have been life-long Christians to fall into the same trap. Isn’t there an earthly bonus for years of faithful service in the Lord’s house? Shouldn’t there be some kind of extra blessing for those of us who do what they are supposed to do? Isn’t it a little bit unjust for the gift of salvation to be given equally to those who have led a dissolute life as to those who have served God faithfully?
Jesus told the story of the older son because he wants people to know that this kind of attitude alienates us from God just as much as those who lead scandalous lives are alienated from God.
But he also wants us to know that he loves the Pharisee too and wants them to have a place in the family. And that is why the father in the parable did another unbelievable thing: he went out to the older son and begged him to be reconciled to his brother and take his place in the family. The father said to the older son:
‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found.’”
From lost to found—from death to life. This is what our heavenly Father wants for all of his children—whether we identify with the younger son who did everything wrong and had to be reduced to nothing—or whether we identify with the older son who thought he did everything right and yet regarded his life with his father as an unpleasant burden to be borne—God wants us to know that there is a place in his family through faith in another Son.
By virtue of the true Son who got it right in every place—Jesus Christ—God calls us his sons and daughters and promises us today: All that I have is yours: forgiveness—a brand new life here on earth—and eternity in heaven—all that I have is yours. And as we receive that promise in faith—we can be certain that heaven itself rejoices. Amen.
And now may the peace of God that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus unto life everlasting. Amen.
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