Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
1 Now all the tax collectors and
sinners were coming near to listen to him. 2 And the Pharisees and the scribes
were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with
them." 3 So he told them this parable:
…
"There was a man who had two
sons. 12 The younger of them said to his father, "Father, give me the
share of the property that will belong to me.' So he divided his property
between them. 13 A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and
traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in
dissolute living. 14 When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place
throughout that country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired
himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields
to feed the pigs. 16 He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the
pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. 17 But when he came to himself
he said, "How many of my father's hired hands have bread enough and to
spare, but here I am dying of hunger! 18 I will get up and go to my father, and
I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you;
19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired
hands." ' 20 So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still
far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his
arms around him and kissed him. 21 Then the son said to him, "Father, I
have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called
your son.' 22 But the father said to his slaves, "Quickly, bring out a
robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on
his feet. 23 And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate;
24 for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!'
And they began to celebrate. 25 "Now his elder son was in the field; and
when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 He called
one of the slaves and asked what was going on. 27 He replied, "Your
brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has
got him back safe and sound.' 28 Then he became angry and refused to go in. His
father came out and began to plead with him. 29 But he answered his father,
"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!' 31 Then the father said to him, "Son, you are always
with me, and all that is mine is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and rejoice,
because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and
has been found.' "
Don’t you hate it when things don’t
go the way they’re supposed to go? Now, I’m not necessarily talking about those
times when things don’t go the way you want
them to go; I’m talking about those times when the precedents of life are
interrupted by unexpected outcomes or malfunctions. Those times when, despite
how many countless days in a row you walk out the door, put the key in the
ignition, and start your car, the day comes you’ll turn the key and the car
won’t start. That isn’t how it’s supposed to go. Or what about those times
when, no matter how many mornings your alarm went off at the correct hour it
fails to wake you up that one day—that one day—you need to be at work or school
early? That isn’t how it’s supposed to go. Never mind those days when, despite
how many times you’ve traveled the same route to and from the doctor’s office,
there’s construction that has backed traffic up for miles causing you to miss
your appointment. That isn’t how it’s supposed to go.
Then of course there are those much more important things in our lives
interrupted by surprises and unplanned hindrances. There are those who eat
right, exercise, wear sunscreen, and avoid artificial everything, yet the diagnosis
of cancer passed on to them from their parents is unavoidable and takes them
before their fortieth birthday. That isn’t how it’s supposed to go. There are those who long to have children, to
raise a family of their own, but biology betrays them and leaves them baby-less.
That isn’t how it’s supposed to go. Then there are those who are fortunate
enough to bring new life into this world; they read every book, attend every
class, and go out of their way to love their children, to raise them in the
best way they know how, yet their children turn down destructive paths,
breaking hearts and burning bridges all along the way. That isn’t how it’s
supposed to go.
Fortunately for us, we find ourselves this fourth Sunday in Lent,
waist-deep in a parable about things that don’t go the way they’re supposed to
go, a parable about a father who doesn’t do what he supposed to do because of
two sons who don’t do what they’re supposed to do. If you’ve spent very many
Sunday mornings holding down a pew, you’ve likely heard this story once or
twice: we commonly call it “The Parable of the Prodigal Son,” though I’d like
to (if only for this morning) call it “The Parable of the Father and his Two
Sons.” Chances are, many of you could tell this story without peeking down at
the Bible in your lap.
Jesus says, "There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his
father, ‘Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’”
That isn’t how it’s supposed to go. In the Ancient Near East (and in many parts
of our modern world) a son—especially a younger son—doesn’t stroll up to his
father and demand his share of an inheritance. It’s nothing short of insulting!
In fact, the father would have had every right to beat his son on the spot and
deny him his inheritance outright![1]
This younger son essentially says to his father, “I don’t want to wait for you
to ‘kick the bucket.’ I wish you were dead now so I could have my share of
what’s coming to me!” That isn’t how it’s supposed to go: a good son would work
hard for his family, take care of the estate as his father ages, and then, when
his father dies, inherit his portion and continue caring for the family land.
After all, an Israelite’s land was more than personal property—it was his
God-given gift.[2]
For this younger son to ask for his share of an inheritance is already a great
breech of cultural protocol, but he takes it even farther—he sells the land. He
sells his portion of his family’s God-given land; he trades dirt under his
nails for cash in his pocket and leaves his family for a foreign land. That
isn’t how it’s supposed to go.
Now, fast-forward to the end of the story. The younger son has returned
home after coming to his senses, and there’s a big “welcome home” party in his
honor. Jesus tells us he “was in the field; and when he came and
approached the house, he heard music and dancing.” This older brother,
who for all intents and purposes has done everything the way he’s supposed to
do by keeping his inheritance and honoring his father, “called one of the slaves and
asked what was going on.” The slave tells him about his brother coming
home and how his father rolled out the red carpet for him—even killing a fatted
calf for the party. Well, as you can imagine, the older brother “became
angry and refused to go in.” Then, “His father came out and began to plead
with him. But he answered his father, ‘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. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property
with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!'” That isn’t how
it’s supposed to go either.
The older brother is so angry about what he deems to be an unfair
situation, that he doesn’t even address his father—he just begins an angry
monologue declaring his perceived mistreatment. For a son to speak in such a
way to his father—with such angry words and without so much as addressing him—was
beyond disgraceful. Furthermore, to reject his father’s urging to come and join
the celebration would have only added insult and shame.[3]
That isn’t how it’s supposed to go. A son is supposed to obey his father. A son
should rejoice with the rest of the family when his younger brother returns. A
son should join in the celebration and make the family whole, but this son,
this older son, decides to sit it out and pout about how unfair he’s being
treated. That just isn’t how it’s supposed to go.
But you know, I suppose if one needed somebody to blame for all this,
someone on whom to pin this string of contrary behaviors, the father in Jesus’
story is just the one. After all, when the younger son steps out of line, does
this Ancient Near Eastern father do what his traditions and culture has told
him is the right thing to do? Does he deny his son’s request and erase his name
from the will? Does he put his youngest son in his place for such an act of
shame and humiliation? No! He gives his son everything he wanted. In fact,
Jesus says “he divided his property between them.” Even the oldest son got
his inheritance early. That isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He should have made
an example out of his youngest son. What’s more, Jesus tells us that after the
youngest son decided to turn back and was on his way home, “while he was still far off, his
father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around
him and kissed him.” No self-respecting man would run—especially
dressed in his robes, and especially not after such a reprobate child![4]
The father in Jesus’ parable not only runs out to meet his wayward son, but he
literally “falls on his neck” and kisses him! He should have waited on the
porch, and once his son reached the house, he should have given him what-for;
he should have ran him off, told him he was no longer a son after the way he
behaved—but that isn’t what the father in Jesus’ parable does. He welcomes back
his repentant son, the one who had boldly defied his father and practically
spat in his face. That isn’t how it’s supposed to go.
Then there’s the way the father in Jesus’ story treats the oldest son.
When his oldest son is absent from the party, he makes a repeated effort to
have his son join the celebration. A father shouldn’t have to ask his son more
than once to obey his request. A father should expect his oldest son to extend
the same feelings of reconciliation. A father shouldn’t have to march out to
the field and beg his oldest son to join in, but this father does.[5]
That isn’t how a father is supposed to act. That isn’t how it’s all supposed to
go.
I can imagine the looks on the faces of those tax collectors and sinners
as they were coming near to listen to this story from Jesus. I can imagine
their lives were products of what happens when things don’t go the way they’re
supposed to go. After all, the Pharisees and the scribes that were also there “were
grumbling and saying, ‘This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.’"
That’s not the way things are supposed to go; sinners shouldn’t eat with good,
law-abiding Jews. Tax collectors—practically traitors working for the Roman
Empire, collecting taxes from their Jewish brothers and sisters—shouldn’t have
a place at the table with real Jews. I can imagine the faces of those
Pharisees and scribes as Jesus told this story: they probably weren’t sure who
to root for. Everyone in the story is doing things the wrong way; every
character is going against custom and tradition—this just isn’t the way it’s
supposed to go. If these Pharisees and scribes had it their way, the father
would have disowned the youngest son when he had the chance and the older son
would have continued to work hard and obey his father, never stepping a toe out
of line!
Perhaps that’s how we’d tell the story too. After all, it’s a bit brash
for a young son to ask for his inheritance from his still-living father, to
practically wish he was dead. It would be within his right to disown his son or,
at the very least, discipline him. If that had happened, there would have been
no conflict with the older son, no need to break from what is normal and right
to beg him to join the party. If the father had just done what was right and
fair in the first place, he wouldn’t have had to make a fool of himself running
after his youngest son in his robes. If things had just gone the way they’re supposed
to go…but you know, grace doesn’t always go the way things are supposed to go.
You see, just as the father in Jesus’ parable graciously goes out of his
way to show his love and care for his sons, Jesus eats with sinners and tax
collectors. Just as the father in Jesus’ parable seems foolish for running
after his prodigal son, so does Christ seem foolish for dying upon a cross. But
as the Apostle Paul said, “God chose what is foolish in the world to
shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong.”[6]
Everything about this parable isn’t the way it’s supposed to go, but then
again, everything about grace—God’s grace—isn’t the way it’s supposed to go.
When we run headlong in the opposite direction, away from God, we deserve
whatever mess we get ourselves into. We deserve to be cut off, denied our
inheritance. Whenever we refuse to acknowledge someone as our brother or sister
because of who they are, what they’ve done, the color of their skin, the
language they speak, who the love, the size of their bank accounts, or even
their last name, we deserve to be cut off, rebuked, and disciplined for our
selfishness. That’s how it’s supposed to go, but thanks be to God that isn’t
how grace is supposed to go. For God’s grace says we are welcomed when we turn
back to God. Grace says we’ve been given the divine privilege to be reconciled
to God and to one another. Whether you can identify with the younger son or his
older brother, God the Father offers grace enough to welcome you home, grace enough
to reconcile you to himself and to all of God’s people.
Sure, we may hate it when things don’t go the way they’re supposed to go,
but praise God for grace. God offers us grace when we don’t go the way we’re
supposed to go. God offers us grace through his son Jesus, grace that welcomes
us home, grace that reconciles us to each other, grace that sees past how we so
often go the way we’re not supposed to go. May you come to yourself this
morning and realize that God is waiting for you to come home. May you who have
worked in the field faithfully for so long realize that God is welcoming home
those who you may find unfit to call brother or sister, and may you be
reconciled even to them. Today, may we all realize that God offers us grace we
don’t deserve, so that we may call him Father and he may call us his children.
May you respond today to the God who is waiting for you to come home and be
reconciled.
Let us pray…
Eternal God,
our heavenly Father, help us to see how we have gone the way we’re not supposed
to go. Holy Spirit, convict us so that we may come to ourselves and come
running back to you, Lord Jesus, give us the strength to see our sins, repent
of them, and be reconciled this day to you and each other. In your name we
pray. Amen.
[1]
Mark Strauss, Zondervan Illustrated Bible
Backgrounds Commentary: Luke. Zondervan: Grand Rapids, MI (2002). p. 447
[2] Leslie
J. Hoppe, Feasting on the Word, “Fourth
Sunday in Lent: Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32.” Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville,
KY (2009). p. 119
[3]
Darrel L. Bock, Baker Exegetical
Commentary on the New Testament: Luke. Baker Academic: Grand Rapids, MI
(1996). p. 1318
[4] Leslie
J. Hoppe, Feasting on the Word, “Fourth
Sunday in Lent: Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32.” Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville,
KY (2009). p. 119
[5] Darrel
L. Bock, Baker Exegetical Commentary on
the New Testament: Luke. Baker Academic: Grand Rapids, MI (1996). p. 1317
[6] 1
Corinthians 1:17
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