In the response to criticism about who he’s spending time with, [Jesus] begins by telling stories about people who deeply value that which is in their care. He begins with relationship that has nothing to do with the achievement the thing that gets found.
Lent 4C (Luke 15:11b-32)
I read a commentary this week that said this reading used to be included in the season of Pentecost, a season of growth and expansion. This commentator was saying that putting it in Lent tends to draw our attention to somber themes of repentance. But the parable can also be read as a break from the heaviness of Jesus’ journey to the cross by putting our attention towards extravagant love and celebrations of restoration.
Regardless of when and why this passage shows up in the lectionary, I would guess that it’s a pretty familiar story. Maybe it’s so familiar that we jump to conclusions about what it means and forget that as a parable, it’s meant to be a bit ambiguous so that everyone who listens hears something for themselves, even if it’s different than what the person next to them hears.
Whether this is a story you’re familiar with or not, let’s just get it into our heads again. When the pharisees and scribes criticize Jesus for socializing and eating with sinners, Jesus tells a series of parables about the relationship between being lost, sought after and found. It’s the “being sought after” that I tend to forget when I hear these parables, but I think it’s significant. We refer to these parables by the thing that was lost—a lost coin, a lost sheep, and a lost son. But we could also tell the stories more actively by starting with the one who does the finding—a woman who finds a coin and throws a party, the shepherd who recovers his sheep and throws a party, and the father who desires restoration of relationship with his sons and throws a party.
It’s different, right? But I realized as I was sitting with this text this week that Jesus doesn’t begin the parable with the lost son. He begins with the father who had two sons. In the response to criticism about who he’s spending time with, he begins by telling stories about people who deeply value that which is in their care. He begins with relationship that has nothing to do with the achievement the thing that gets found.
So a man has 2 sons, and when the younger son asks for his inheritance, the father divides his assets between them. BOTH sons get the inheritance, not just the one who asked—even though it likely costs the father a lot, both economically and socially. He divides his assets between both his sons while he’s still alive. He didn’t hold back from either of them.
And we know what happens—the younger son takes his portion and leaves. He ends up squandering it and losing everything. The older son stays with his faither. And both of them make a comment about feeling lost and trapped—the younger son realizes he’s feeding pigs like a slave and the older son comments that he has been working like a slave for his father.
Here’s what I want to notice with you today: neither son really honored the inheritance they’d received. There was geographic distance between the younger son and his father, but there was relational and psychological distance between the older son and his father. Both sons were lost.
And here’s the other thing I want to notice: the father crossed the threshold to pursue and invite both sons back into relationship.
The younger son comes to his senses and decides to go home. Before he can confess and take responsibility for his behaviour, the father sees him in the distance and does the socially humiliating thing of picking up his robes and running towards him. He’s been watching and waiting for his son’s return, and he takes the initiative to close the gap between them. He crosses the threshold of what I imagine is a porch and goes toward the son to embrace him and remind him who he is—he’s a son. Not a servant. With or without the money of his inheritance, he’s a son. With or without a confession, he’s a son. The father pursues the one who has wandered and welcomes him home because he’s a son.
But he crosses the threshold one more time. When the older brother hears that his brother is back and his dad is throwing a party, his resentment creates emotional distance and wandering. He’s physically still there, but we realize that he’s been on his own internal journey, and maybe has been devaluing his inheritance in his own way. The older brother is outside of the celebration of reunion. And so, again, the father goes out to his son. He doesn’t wait for him to come to the party—he goes outside to him. We’re not even told whether the older son comes to his senses and has a change of heart. But even without a confession, the father goes to him and reminds him of what has always been true. He leads with relationship—all I have is yours, he says. The older son feels like a servant, but his father reminds him he’s a beloved son. The father wants both sons at the party.
How does that affect how you interpret this story? What point do you think Jesus was trying to make to the scribes and pharisees—the devoutly religious folks? They’re invited to the party as well! They have received the same abundance of inheritance, and they don’t have to let their own judgment and bitterness distance them from enjoying the gift of welcome, hospitality and community.
A man had two sons. He divided his assets among both of them. Both sons made choices that resulted in them feeling lost and disconnected from their father. The father desired relationship with both of them. He crossed the threshold to invite both of them to the party.
The challenge of the familiar parable is that it’s easy to jump to simple conclusions. I’m the older brother and just need to get over my bitterness. I’m the younger brother and just need to come to my senses.
But I think it’s okay to hold a less definite view of what this parable means for you and for us as a community. It’s okay if we see ourselves in all 3 main characters. Sometimes we’re the one who wanders and squanders. We are welcomed home and reminded that we are made alive again through the welcome and love of the father. We are the ones who work so hard because we think that’s what will get us approval. We are reminded that all that the father has is ours, and we don’t have to prove ourselves. And we are the ones who yearn for reconciliation and restoration of relationship with those who have lost sight of their belovedness, and who come together to throw a party that we want others to feel invited to.
Friends, there are plenty of forces in our world today that are trying to label who’s invited and who’s excluded to various parties. There are plenty of ways we are pressured to answer for how and why we choose the company we do. There are plenty of ways we squander—either physically or emotionally—the incredible inheritance we’ve been given. There are plenty of ways we feel lost, rejected, maybe even dead. But this practice we have of coming together to hear the familiar stories and sing the familiar songs of our faith is one way we celebrate the gift of life that we’ve been given. It’s a way we resist the righteous resentment of evaluating who’s invited to dinner, and simply respond to the invitation to join the party. I pray that in the familiar patterns and stories of your life in community you will hear in a new way that God desires your wholeness and restoration. In Jesus, God has crossed the threshold of heaven to run towards us and remind us that in whatever way we feel lost, we have been found. In whatever way we feel dead, we have been made alive. And in whatever way we separate ourselves through our own bitterness and resentment, we are still beloved children of God who are invited to the party.
I pray that as we live our faith out in our daily lives, we share with others that the One who loves them, the One who rejoices in them, and the One who has shared the inheritance of love and eternal life with them eagerly desires relationship with them and invites them, too, to the party.
Over the next few weeks the story we are invited into becomes intense as we journey with Jesus through persecution, trial and crucifixion. But maybe we can encourage and strengthen one another through the ups and downs of the passion story—as we strengthen one another through the ups and downs of our own lives—with the reminder that through what Jesus goes through on the cross, we are reconciled with God. We are made heirs with Christ. We are not servants, but are children of God, and God passionately pursues us with a reminder that we are not lost. We are not dead. We have been found, and we are made alive once again. Thanks be to God.