The Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year C

Donna G. Joy

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

In my experience many of you are here – in church – partly because you are haunted by the question, “What is God really like?” Studies have indicated that people who come to church are longing to catch a glimpse of the nature and purpose of God. Fortunately, this question is one that Jesus seems to have answered directly in this morning’s Gospel Story, story in which a man has two sons.

The younger son says, “Father, give me my inheritance,” and the father gives it to him. The son takes the money and heads off to a distant country where he squanders all he has received with extravagant living. Though Jesus doesn’t seem to offer details regarding what kind of extravagant living, I think we might be able to imagine what some of that may have been. With all the money wasted on such extravagance, the young man is reduced to survive by filling the lowest kind of job known to humankind; that is, the job of feeding and caring for a farmer’s pigs. This, of course, would have been a severe form of humiliation for any Jewish boy. This is the moment in which this boy hits bottom. His bad decisions have now caused him to lose everything. He has fallen so far down there is no further down that he can go.

In the midst of this deep, dark valley he ‘comes to himself’ – he remembers that he has a loving father and a home. And he turns back toward home. He has prepared a little speech for that moment when he and his father reconnect. He said, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son. But the father isn’t interested in hearing such a speech. Instead, he immediately prepares a big, extravagant party / banquet.

Clearly, this story is shocking! Remember our question, “What is God really like?” In response to this perfectly good theological question, Jesus tells a wild story about the homecoming of a ne’er-do-well – welcomed home with a huge, extravagant celebration. It isn’t what we would expect. We may want to hear that the father is gracious, but not overly so. Homecomings for prodigals may be fine, when the lost are dressed in sackcloth and ashes, but we don’t necessarily want to see them in patent leather shoes and a tux. Our question may be that of the older brother, “Is it fitting to throw a party for a prodigal?” But, again, Jesus answers our deep, serious question, “What is God really like?” by telling a story about a party thrown by a father for a prodigal child.

Jesus, in telling this story, expends more verses describing the party than on any other aspect in the story. But it’s this part that we may see as a scandal. It is interesting to note that just prior to the telling of this parable Jesus’ critics have observed, , “This man eats and drinks (i.e. parties) with sinners! What kind of a Saviour are you?” You might expect Jesus to back off saying, “But I’m going to redeem these sinners! I’m going to make them straighten up, be more responsible…” But no. He tells them this story which speaks of a God who gives us everything he has, holds nothing back, and when we wander off into those distant places, far away from him he waits for us to return, longs for us to return, and throws a party to celebrate when we do.

And this is what prompts the older brother’s perfectly understandable response as he refuses to join the party. His father searches for him, finds him and pleads him to come, but he says, “What???!!! All these years I have been completely faithful to you and you have given me nothing to help me celebrate! But when this self indulgent, self centered son of yours squanders everything you’ve given him you throw a generous and extravagant party???!!! How can you possibly explain such upside down thinking???!!!???” And his father responds, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we must celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.”

We know this story as the story of the prodigal son. But I remind you that Jesus doesn’t give this parable a title. It may better be known as the story of the astonishingly gracious, generous, forgiving father. The most interesting character in the story is not the prodigal son or the older brother. It’s the father. And furthermore, the story is not about the prodigal son or the older brother. It is about the father who in fact is the real prodigal in that his love is extravagant, more excessive than either the younger brother’s extravagant living or the older brother’s moral rectitude. It is about the father whose purpose in the story is to answer that question, “What is God really like?” It’s a story about a parent who is excessive in his persistence to have a family, an old man who meets us when we crawl home from the far country when our own sense of having lost our way becomes unbearable, or who comes out to the lonely dark place of our self-righteousness and begs us to come in and join the party. It’s a hopeful, joyous story of homecoming. It’s a somber warning to those who would rather sulk in the dark that come in and join the homecoming dance. “You are always with me. All that is mine is yours,” pleads the father out in the dark with the older brother. The father is willing to miss the first dance in the hope that his firstborn might repent of his self righteousness and join the party, just as the younger brother had repented earlier that day.

The Bible never asks the question, “Is there a God?” The Bible’s ongoing question is, “Who is the God who is there?”

John says that nobody has ever seen God, that is, until we meet the one who told this parable. God is the long-suffering parent who patiently waits and meets us on the road back from ruin, and who pleads with the older brother to come in, help reconcile the family and celebrate. The story’s claim that God is the parent who refuses to stop silently waiting or genuinely pleading for you collides with our culture’s self understanding that our lives are our possessions to do with as we please. We are not the architects of our own individual lives. We are, instead, owned by the God who creates us; we are sought, and deeply loved. The story also collides with the modern view of God as a detached, rule-driven, distant ruler who can’t stand the thought of anyone having a good time.

Jesus’ story doesn’t have an ending. We are not told if the younger brother ever grows up or if the older brother ever loosened up and joined the party. Jesus doesn’t end the story because its ending is found in each of us. It is found in all those who follow Jesus past, present and future.

I’m pretty sure that the one for whom the father is waiting is each of us. The one he is begging to come in and join the party is each of us. This story says: you never journey alone. Even when you lose your way the God who created you patiently waits and longs for you to return. This God – this heavenly parent – claims you, has plans for you, waits or prods (whichever is needed at the time), invites, embraces, and blesses you. In the words of Desmond Tutu, “We are always justified and we are always sinners. We depend not on our goodness, but on the gracious mercy of God.” We, the lost, have been found. Come to God’s party and celebrate.