A Sermon for Lent 4 - The 'Lost' Son

When I was about 9 years old, I would walk home from school with a neighbour friend. One day, we decided to take the scenic way home. We went down different streets on the way to his house, playing on every snow-filled hill, sometimes getting stuck in the deeper parts (much to our delight). We were having such a good time we completely lost track of time. But the time we made it to his house, his father was beside himself with worry. It had taken us nearly two hours to make the 1km walk from school.

My friend’s father scolded his son while he got me in his car to take me home. My worried-sick mother greeted me with a mixture of relief and anger, and not a few tears were shed. I felt awful. I really scared her, I mean, really scared her. I’d never seen her so shaken, and I’d never felt so ashamed. Once emotions cooled down, she came to me in my room and explained how worried she’d been, and that she was only upset with me because she’d been so afraid that something terrible had happened to me. I never wanted to disappoint and scare her like that again.

There is no greater fear for a parent than the fear of losing a child. Perhaps that’s why Jesus closes his powerful parable teachings in Luke 15 with the Parable of the Lost Son. It is the third story found in Luke 15 that deals with what was lost being found. First there was the lost sheep – pursued by the shepherd who left the 99 behind and tenderly carried home.  Then there was the woman who lost one of her ten coins and searched every corner of her home until finding it.  And now today we read one of Jesus’ most famous parables: the parable of the Lost Son. 

Many people know it as the parable of the ‘Prodigal Son’ for its depiction of the younger son as being an impetuous, disrespectful son, who chooses to spend his wealth on ‘dissolute’ living.  The term ‘prodigal’ simply refers to inappropriate or undisciplined habits, though his brother did accuse him of spending it on prostitutes.  The details of how he squandered his money are not important, what is pertinent is how his actions brought shame to his family and severed his relationship with his father. In Jesus’ culture, to ask a living parent for an early inheritance is like saying, ‘I wish you were dead.’ Children who make a request like this lose their respect and honour, and their community ostracizes them. Parents would usually respond in great anger to such a request, with ties between the parents and children cut completely.

To make matters worse, the Son squanders what he is given and is left desperate for even the most meager morsels of food.  We find out that he has no resort but to hire himself out as a hired hand where his task is to feed the pigs.  Remember, this is a Jewish audience, and presumably a story about a Jewish family.  That the son ends up with the pigs punctuates his desperate situation as it is the most shameful place a Jew could find himself.

Here, at rock bottom, the Son ‘comes to himself.’ He realizes the depravity of his situation and hopes for a better state in his father’s service. The story quickly shifts from the Son to the Father as the key actor.  He spots his lost son from a distance and runs to him. One Biblical scholar notes this striking detail, “in a culture where senior figures are far too dignified to run anywhere, this man takes to his heels as soon as he sees his young son dragging himself home.” This loving father is overjoyed at the sight of his son, and before the Son could utter a word, he embraces and kisses him.  His son apologizes, and the Father calls for the best clothing and the best food and initiates a magnificent celebration.

The Father’s reaction to his wayward Son was profoundly counter-cultural. In his culture, unsuccessful people are not celebrated. And certainly, someone who cut all ties with family would not be so easily forgiven.

Indeed, the elder brother’s reaction is more typical than his father’s.  He mutters and complains about the injustice of his foolish sibling receiving favorable treatment.  He has remained loyal to his father and cannot fathom the grace and generosity being wasted on his brother.  Ironically, his bitterness and resentment now make him the ‘lost’ son as he refuses to participate in the celebrations, placing himself on the outside looking in at the party. Cue the Father’s relentless love once again,

Perhaps the most poignant movement of the father in the story is in relation to this good, loyal older son. When the son refuses to enter the celebration, the father takes the initiative to find him and plead with him (v. 28). When the son makes his case, the father does not disagree or belittle. He restates his own recognition but with these words of introduction: “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours” (v. 31). The generosity lavished on the son who was lost outside the household is now extended also to the son who is lost within the household. The father’s love knows no limitations.

Many read this parable as Jesus’ response to the religiously faithful who have been complaining about his eating and drinking with outcast ‘sinners.’ The implication is obvious: they, like the elder brother, remained faithful to God but they are unable to comprehend how God can extend such grace and radical hospitality to those outside the fold.  You see, God offers a banquet feast to all who could come to Him.  He’s throwing a party, and both sons are invited – the so-called ‘sinners’ and self-righteous alike, the grateful and the hard-hearted.

This story ought to speak to us this morning, for it is never out of season to hear a fresh word about God’s unconditional love for us. The desert of Lent, the anxiety inducing political landscape, the overwhelming challenges life can present to us, heighten the need for us to hear that we are valued, accepted for who we are, and deeply cherished.

We might relate to the young son in the story: overwhelmed by the consequences of poor decisions we’ve made, feeling guilty over lapses in character, pushed to the brink of despair. Or perhaps your struggles are not your fault, perhaps they’re more due to the injustices in our society, but you know what it’s like to push and push and push to try to get yourself out of the pit, to no avail.

Do you think you are beyond saving, beyond grace? Do you think you are invisible to the loving gaze of your heavenly Father?

Or maybe you are like the elder son – remaining faithful to God and family, doing all the ‘right things’, yet your efforts seem to be getting you no further ahead. Others are seemingly rewarded, while your hard work goes unappreciated. You may feel undervalued, and desperately long for a word of approval, for someone to see and appreciate you. Have you, perhaps, gotten too busy for your own good? Are you resentful of apparent favoritism being granted to those you don’t feel deserve it? Can you not see that God is not far off, but you will only come to enjoy God’s presence when you learn to let go of bitterness and resentment?

Or perhaps you may feel like the father in the parable today – desperately longing for reconciliation with a loved one – willing to forgive and celebrate new life together, waiting at the window for a glimpse of the wandering child to return.

Wherever you are in your spiritual journey, today know that God sees you, and cherishes you, and appreciates you. There is nothing you can do to separate you from God’s love. You need only ‘come to yourself’ in this moment and recognize your great need for God. We might call this repentance, for it is a reorienting of our thinking, feeling, and acting towards God. Is there a step of faith for you to take today, perhaps reflected in a prayer or song today? Or maybe when you took the step out of your pew to come to take communion today, can this be your way of returning to a loving God anew? Whatever that step looks like for you, I’d encourage you to take a step of faith forward, and let the Holy Spirit tune your heart to God’s grace and mercy.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now am found, was blind, but now I see. Amen.