Intro
Today, Jesus tells us a parable, a story. You probably know the Parable of the
Prodigal Son. And the point of the parable is simple: When the lost are found,
you rejoice. Instead of being a spoilsport, looking down on someone else, you
rejoice when a sinner repents and join the party. But of course, the free pass
into the party is repentance, something few in our day think they need, whether
inside the Church or out.
Main Body
So what’s the parable? A prodigal son, a son without shame, insensitive and
selfish, demands his share of the inheritance before its time. He says, “It’s
my money, and I want it now!”
What is he is really saying? He’s saying, “Dad, I can’t wait around for you
get old, decrepit, and die. It’s too bad you’re still alive. But I won’t wait
around until you’re dead: I want my inheritance now. So give it to me.”
And for some reason, the father is gracious and gives his son the share of the
inheritance. Then, with his wallet bulging, the younger son is off and
running. He scampers off to the Las Vegas of his day; and what happens there,
stays there. Or does it?
He connects himself with some fair-weather friends, drinks wine like it’s
water, and women, “Well, hey, you only live once!” And like many young men on
their own with too much money and no responsibility, he wastes it all. He
lives it up, until the cash runs dry. When everything money can buy is gone,
he winds up without friends, hungry and homeless in a pagan land. “Prodigal”
is too good of a word for him: to speak bluntly, the boy is a no-good,
thoughtless scumbag.
But life even gets worse for this despicable son: a famine strikes the land!
And no one gives the son the time of day. But he finds a job--feeding pigs.
What a picture: He feeds pigs that his religion forbids him to eat! He feeds
them food that he can’t even eat for himself! Begging would be more honorable
than tending swine in such a way.
And when the pig feed begins to look good, this young man suddenly comes to his
senses. Like most rogues and con-artists, he has a shrewd and cunning mind.
Here, he is hungry and in shame, caring for a pagan’s unclean animals, while
his dad’s servants are eating three meals a day at home!
So he hatches a plan. The son knows what buttons he will push. “My dad’s a
softie. I’ll go to dad and sound religious! Yeah, I’ll say something like,
‘I’ve sinned against heaven and against you . . . blah, blah, blah . . . and
then ‘pass the potatoes, buddy!’”
He has his speech all set and he sets out for home. It seems like the perfect
plan. His father can save face; he will sound religious and look like a good
boy, and even better, he’ll have some bread in his belly.
The younger son is simply acting in self-interest. Pig stench and pig
droppings are now the center of his world. If he shows a little act of
contrition, it’ll be a good bargaining chip, a chance to live in town, go home
to his friends, and feed his stomach.
So the young son gets out of the mud and heads back to his father’s house,
rehearsing his little speech as he walks along the road. But this is what the
young son doesn’t know. The father’s been waiting for him all along. The
father’s been looking for the son’s return--since the brat left home!
So as the son makes his way toward the village, he sees a figure running toward
him. It’s his father! Setting aside all his dignity, the father runs down the
road to embrace his corrupt and conniving son.
And when the son begins his well-rehearsed speech, the father interrupts it by
hugging and kissing him. The son begins to break free of his father’s embrace
long enough to continue his little speech. “Father, I’ve sinned against heaven
and before you. I’m no longer worthy to be called your son.” But the son
doesn’t even get a chance to finish his canned speech! Instead, the true
moment of repentance comes for this wayward son!
The father, the dad, tells his servants to dress his son--still in his filth
and poverty--with the best family robe he has. The son’s dirty finger is to be
fitted with the family ring, the credit card of the day. His filthy feet are
to be cushioned from the ground with sandals, which normally only the
householders and managers of the estate can wear. Kill the fatted calf, start
the barbecue, pour the wine, let the party begin!
And the son didn’t even get to finish his speech about working as a common
servant, a day-laborer for hire.
This was pure grace, undeserved kindness, every drop of it. The father
receives his rebellious son and restores him to sonship. The father doesn’t
stop to lay down the law; he doesn’t lecture the newly returning son. We don’t
hear any “I told you so’s.” Nothing but joy is abounding for the return of the
son, the bum of a son who earlier wanted to con his dad.
So what’s the point of the parable? It focuses on who the Father is, and what
is his nature. The father watches for the boy, even when the son is still
wasting his inheritance in wild living. The father’s the one who reaches out
to his beaten-down and humiliated son, even before the boy gets home. The
father interrupts the boy’s well-practiced speech, and makes him a son of the
plantation, even before the son can conjure up a good deal for himself.
The boy is home, and the boy is safe and alive. The father acts! The father
forgives! The father embraces! And then the father says, “Let’s celebrate!
Kill the fattened calf, which I’ve been feeding and fattening for some great
event.” Wow, what a parable!
But the parable still isn’t over. The father now must deal with the older
brother, who comes in from the fields and raises a stink. The older brother
hears the celebration, but has no intent to join the party. He won’t even
recognize the younger son as his brother.
So the father goes out to see the older son--just as he had come out to meet
his younger son on the road. The older son’s simmering resentment boils over:
“This son of yours does all this yet you take him back and hold a celebration
for him? After all I’ve done you never gave me so much as a little party with
my friends. Now the son who has disgraced you comes back and you invite the
entire neighborhood to see the family shame!”
The dad takes the initiative. He always comes out to meet his children. He
pleads with the older son. “Come and celebrate. Rejoice. Your brother has
come home. He was lost, but now is found.” This too is the grace of God.
But the older son won’t rejoice. His legalism has robbed him of his joy. He
is the obedient son, the good son, always doing what his father wanted--not out
of love, but out of duty and responsibility. “Look, all these years I have
served you, and I never disobeyed your command.” Look God, I’ve done my part,
now you do Your part by blessing me. You fill in the blank.
The older son tries to justify himself. He defines his relationship to his
father by the law, by commandment-keeping, by obedience. And so the older son
was just as lost as the younger one. The one who went to Church every Sunday
was a lost as the lost son, wanting to curry favor by all the good he did.
A man had two sons. Both were sinners. One was lawless without the law; the
other was lawless within the law. One rebelled openly; the other rebelled
secretly. Both break their father’s heart. Both wind up in a far-away
country: one physically, the other in his heart.
And yet, both receive the same caring and kindness, acceptance and love. Their
father forgives them both, and receives them as sons and members of the family.
Both needed to repent, to have a change of heart and mind, to change course
from destruction toward life, to confess their sin, to receive mercy and love.
One son, in the end, repented. He confessed his sin against God and his
father, and received his father’s undeserved kindness. And the other? Well,
Jesus leaves the parable open-ended. Will the older son repent? Will he join
the party? Will he rejoice because his brother repents? Will we?
When we try to define our relationship with God by the Law, by good works, by
our obedience, we become like the older brother. We become bitter, resentful,
legalistic, and judgmental. When we try to earn our way into God’s favor, as
if God is somehow bound to us by our obedience, we will wind up hating Him and
resenting His mercy. We will despise our pastor, and our brothers and sisters
in Christ. We will refuse to rejoice in their repentance. And we will miss
out on true table fellowship with Jesus.
Only as we repent can we rejoice in another’s repentance. Only as we see
ourselves as sinners, who cannot save ourselves, can we rejoice that Jesus
welcomes repentant sinners to His table. Only as we experience the Father’s
embrace in our own lives, can we rejoice in His mercy to those around us.
The Father sent His Son, Jesus, to die for all people, for the worst of
sinners, even for you and for me. He gives and gives and gives and gives until
He is reduced to the point of being naked and laughable. He is reduced to
being hung from a cross, as He dies and pronounces forgiveness for those who
don’t even want to be forgiven.
Don’t you get it? You don’t deserve anything God gives you--and neither do I!
It’s all a gift--unearned, undeserved from the love of God shown to us in Jesus
Christ--a love that seeks all and suffers all to save all. That’s God’s way.
He makes Himself naked and laughable to forgive the impenitent, the callous,
and the cruel, to change our hearts and make us like Himself. As the Apostle
Paul says, “God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we
might become the righteousness of God.” (2 Corinthians 5:21).
Conclusion
Three words summarize the parable of the man with two sons: repentance,
restoration, and rejoicing.
Repentance is the way God brings us into His banquet hall, it’s the free the
pass into the party prepared in your honor. Christ our Passover lamb has been
slain. The feast is ready. Confess your sins, and humble yourself before God.
It doesn’t matter how good you think you are, whether you are the prodigal son
or the obedient son. You need to repent. Don’t try to cut a deal with God.
Receive His mercy.
Restoration: As the father restored his prodigal son, so he restores you. Once
you were a rebel, lost and dead. Now you are a son or daughter of the Father,
alive in Jesus Christ, and a co-heir with Him of eternal life.
There is rejoicing. The angels in heaven rejoice over one sinner who repents.
Jesus rejoices to welcome repentant sinners to His table. The lost are found.
The dead are raised. Christ our Passover lamb has been sacrified. Rejoice.
Amen.
--
Rich Futrell, Pastor
Shepherd of the Hills Lutheran Church, Kimberling City, MO
Where we are to receive and confess the faith of the Church (in and with the
Augsburg Confession): The faith once delivered to the saints, the faith of
Christ Jesus, His Word of the Gospel, His full forgiveness of sins, His flesh
and blood given and poured out for us, and His gracious gift of life for body,
soul, and spirit.
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