The Parable of the Prodigal

Sermon by Robin Shugart on Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

May God’s word be a lamp unto our feet and a light to our path. Amen.

When Jamie invited me to take my pick of texts in the month of March, I initially hesitated to take such a classic parable. But when I realized that he’s likely had countless opportunities to preach on this story, I felt less badly about claiming it. It’s certainly daunting, however, to try to find a fresh perspective on one of the best-known Bible stories. Most folks, even those who aren’t very familiar with the Bible would know the story of “The Prodigal Son”. But recently there has been a growing awareness that this title doesn’t do the story justice. While the chapters, verses, and title headings in scripture are editorial additions intended to help us identify smaller parts within a whole, they can at times direct our attention in a way that can cause us to miss the bigger picture. So more recently I have seen this story titled “The Parable of the Prodigal and His Brother,” or “The Parable of a Man with Two Sons,” both of which draw our attention to how each of the sons interacts with the Father in the story, and not just the younger brother. Another recent approach to entitling this story drops the use of the word “prodigal” altogether and references “The Lost Son,” which links this parable to the two which immediately precede it, about a lost sheep and a lost coin, and the celebrations which follow their recovery. The lectionary has kept the important context in the first three verses which describe the circumstances which prompt these parables, and then skipped ahead to the third and final story. Jesus has attracted a crowd of tax collectors and sinners who are coming to listen to him, and the Pharisees and scribes view this as a problem. The religious elite shouldn’t be engaging with those who aren’t living faithful, godly lives, and Jesus is revealing his poor rabbi credentials by welcoming them. But Jesus hears their grumbling and responds with these parables where something is lost and then found. In the first two stories he describes a search for the lost sheep and coin, and upon their discovery the owner invites their friends and neighbours to celebrate with them. He then immediately draws a parallel to angels in heaven rejoicing over the repentance of just one sinner. The message seems clear – God is delighted that these sinners and tax collectors are coming to Jesus and showing signs of repentance, and the Pharisees should be too.

So this is the context for the third parable, which reinforces this point, but also takes it farther. A man had two sons, and the younger son is shockingly disrespectful and dishonouring of his father by asking for an advance on his inheritance – essentially saying to his father, “I wish you were dead, because I’m more interested in your money than your life.” But the father in turn, is shockingly gracious and generous in his response and divides up his property between his sons, at which point the younger son packs up and takes off. It really seems like the younger son is simply an immature, foolish, selfish kid. He wants to get away from home, live a life free from responsibility and restrictions and pursue pleasure and parties. His inheritance probably seemed like it would supply anything he could ever wish for – until it ran out, and it becomes clear he hasn’t managed his resources appropriately or planned for the future. And to make matters worse, this takes place right as the country is hit by a famine. Amid this economic crisis he manages to find a job feeding pigs – a shameful role for a Jewish boy – but even that is not enough, and the younger son is desperately miserable, hungry, and at the end of his rope. It’s at this moment that our translation says “he came to himself,” or in other translations, “he came to his senses,” and realizes how much better off he would be in his father’s home, even just as a hired hand. He’s been humbled and recognizes how badly he has treated his father, and how undeserving he is of mercy, but he also seems to know something of his father’s character. He recognizes that his father treats people with far more kindness and dignity than what he’s currently experiencing, and he believes there’s at least a chance that if he is repentant, his father will let him work for him, which would be a significant improvement on his current situation.

This brings us to the famous scene in the parable where the father who has been watching and waiting for his son to return rushes out to greet him, full of compassion and joy. He’s not behaving in a way that is dignified or appropriate, especially given how he has been treated by this son, but he is clearly motivated by a deep love for his child. And just like with the lost sheep and coin in the previous parables, he calls for a massive celebration, one that honours this son who has dishonoured him, that spends extravagant resources on someone who has been so wasteful, and that heralds the return of a child who chose to leave of his own free will. It builds on the point Jesus has already made in the first two parables – the tax collectors and sinners are like the younger son, they have behaved in ways that are dishonouring to God. But God’s response is like that of the father in the parable, full of compassion, love and mercy, and delighting in the return of the one who has walked away. For the tax collectors and sinners listening, the message is clear: you are welcome, and God wants you here.

But the parable doesn’t end there. The elder brother appears, after working in the field all day, like a responsible oldest child. He can hear the party before he even gets to the house, and is informed that the celebration is for his wayward younger brother who has returned. He is so angry that he refuses to go inside, and so his father comes out to plead with him to join the celebration. But the son responds, “‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’” The older brother isn’t just angry about how his sibling has treated their family, or even that he’s getting a party after everything that has happened. He’s angry that he hasn’t gotten a celebration after years of hard work and faithful obedience. He feels he has earned a reward for his good behavior and he hasn’t gotten what he deserved, and now that he sees his younger, irresponsible brother getting what he certainly does not deserve, he’s livid. And yet once again the father shows unimaginable compassion, love, and mercy in response to a son’s dishonouring behavior. He gently points out that his older son already has access to all the father’s riches, and that as a father, all he wants is to have his children with him. He had lost his younger son, and so the celebration is just as much for the father as it is for the prodigal.

In this interaction the older son reveals that he has also separated himself from his father. He might be present physically, but relationally he has distanced himself and he views his work and obedience as obligations rather than the natural product of a shared life in relationship. He’s waiting to get something from his father that he believes he must earn, rather than recognizing he already has access to everything his father owns. This sense of obligation and scarcity make him bitter and angry when he sees his father being generous to his undeserving brother. And so the implication is that the older son is like the grumbling Pharisees and scribes. Like the older son, they are so focused on their religious obligation that they miss out on the goodness of relationship with a generous and loving God, which makes them resentful when those who they view as unworthy are welcomed into that relationship. They choose to separate themselves, even though God longs for them to take part in the celebration for those who were lost but are now found. And so the message for the Pharisees and scribes is the same as it for the tax collectors and sinners: you are welcome, and God wants you here. The difference is that they don’t want to join the party.

So the story ends on a cliff-hanger – will the older son set aside his anger and resentment and join the celebration? And with this cliff-hanger, Jesus makes an invitation to those hearing the parable to find themselves in the story. It’s this invitation, I think, which makes it possible for us to hear this story again, and again, and again, and still draw fresh insight each time. We receive invitations differently depending on our circumstances. If I receive an invitation to a party, I consider what else is in my calendar, how much energy I have, whether I want to spend time with the people who are present, and in recent years, what the public health conditions are. My response could vary based on any of those circumstances. It’s the same with scripture. How we respond to it is shaped by our own circumstances, who we are reading it with, what is happening in our lives, and how we are relating to God in that season. So I’ve been considering how this season of Lent might shape how we hear and respond to this story. In this wilderness season we’re invited to engage this parable that offers two different examples of wilderness. The younger brother makes an obvious choice to leave his home and pursue a wild life in a new country. It’s not until he’s spent all his resources that he realizes that his greed and gluttony and pursuit of pleasure have created the wilderness of scarcity in which he finds himself. This is when he realizes that returning to his Father’s home, even as a slave, is a far better prospect than remaining where he is. The older brother, on the other hand, remains at home but in another wilderness of his own making. His focus on rules and expectations and obligations have separated him from experiencing the love and generosity of his father. Instead of enjoying the abundance and affection that his life at home could offer, he is bitter and distant, feeling trapped and focused on what he believes he lacks.

For Lent some of us may have chosen to pick up a practice or discipline, or to fast from a pleasure in order to mark this season, and if that has been done in response to a prompting from the Holy Spirit or a desire to connect with God in that way, that’s a wonderful thing to do. But if you find yourself feeling resentful or trapped in this practice, believing that God will be angry or disappointed, or less full of love towards you if you don’t engage Lent in this way, it’s possible you’ve landed in the same wilderness as the older brother. Perhaps God is inviting you to remember that this discipline is supposed to be a way of “being with God,” and that if you’re feeling more motivated by obligation than love it might not be serving it’s intended purpose. It’s also possible that some of us intended to practice a discipline or fast through Lent, but have wandered away, tempted by other pleasures and swayed into thinking they will be more fulfilling than drawing close to God through setting limitations for a season. If that’s the case, perhaps God is inviting you to return, like the younger brother, in order to recognize the abundance of God’s provision, compassion, and love.

Regardless of how you are engaging Lent, both this season, and this parable give us an opportunity to examine how easily we fail to recognize and remember the character of our Heavenly Father. And while our inclination to relate to the older or younger brother may change each time we hear this parable, the character of the father points to a God who does not change. Just like the celebration is as much for the father as it is for the younger son, the entire parable is just as much about helping us see God rightly as it is about helping us recognize ourselves. When we find ourselves in a wilderness of our own making, God is like this father who watches and waits eagerly for our return, and who comes out after us to plead with us to come inside and join the party. God always wants us to be at home with God, delighting in a relationship of love and not obligation. And when we return after wandering away, God always welcomes us home, not with judgement and reproach, but with compassion and joy. This parable shows us that how we relate to God matters, but even more important is how God relates to us. And it is because of who God is that we should want to be found at the feast, delighting in our unimaginably compassionate, merciful, and loving God. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen.