The Fourth Sunday of Lent
"Following Jesus on the Path Home!"
Luke 15:1-3, 11-32
Preached at
By Pastor Dennis R. King
The
Grace and Mercy of our Lord, Jesus Christ, be with you all. Amen.
A
young man had secretly misappropriated several hundred dollars from his
employer. When the shortage was discovered he was called to the office of the
senior partner. Immediately he knew he would be fired and that he probably
would have to go to prison. When asked if he were guilty, he replied he was.
Then the executive surprised him. "If I keep you in your present capacity,
can I trust you in the future?"
"Yes, sir, you surely can. I have learned my
lesson," was the employee's reply.
"I am not going to press charges, and you can continue
your present responsibilities," said the employer. "I think you ought
to know, however, that you are the second man in this firm who has succumbed to
temptations but was shown leniency. I was the first. What you have done, I have
done. The mercy you are receiving, I received. It is only by the grace of God
that both of us are able to be employed in this place.
The grace of God, the love that God has for each of us is
what keeps life going. Our gospel lesson this morning concerns that very grace,
that love, that mercy of God. Our gospel is about our God and how He accepts us
as a part of His family. And how He receives us and loves us as His very own.
The Prodigal Son probably vies with the Good Samaritan for
most popular and best known of the many parables that Jesus spoke. Both of them
capture our special interest because they so dramatically picture the love of
God for us and through us. Today's parable emphasizes the "for us" of
God's love.
The story of the prodigal son finally returning home to a
waiting father includes more than the account of a wandering son. His elder
brother emerges toward the end of the story and, he too, helps us to see God's
love. We learn that love is there for the despicable as well as the dependable.
It is a lesson that they needed very much to learn, as do we, "Home is
where the heart is."
To tell you the truth neither man appears to be very
likeable. They are hardly "chips off the old block." They are selfish
and insensitive to each other, with an added bit of nastiness toward their
father. The one cannot wait to get away, the other cannot wait to see him go.
The one demands his share of the inheritance that is a pre-paid part of his
father's estate. The other is willing to wait around as his share grows in
value and ultimately becomes his own. Jesus tells the story to a group of tax
collectors and sinners, as some critics, Pharisees, Sadducees, and others, on
the fringes listened in, so all could better understand the forgiving love of
God toward prodigals and toward "perfectionists."
The younger man after whom the parable is named, the
Prodigal, believed that "home is not where the action is." The family
place was boring and routine. He had fastened his eyes on greener pastures. He
wanted his home to be out there in the world where the action and excitement
is. He felt life had to be more than this narrow circle of family and a few
friends. In youthful enthusiasm he asked his father for the chance to strike
out on his own, with his share of the family fortune. Already we see evidence
of the Father's patience and love. For despite fatherly prerogatives of
ordering the young man to stay home, He respects the youth's desire for
identity and independence and even adventure. The wisdom and experience of age
perceived potential dangers in such a venture. Yet the young man needed to have
the opportunity of learning first hand, perhaps even the hard way, that life is
more than "action."
It did not take him long to get on his way! Jesus says that
in a few days he "took his journey into a far country, and there squandered
his property on loose living." Even if he had high-minded goals, his life
became a round of mere games. It was soon reduced to desperation and working at
caring for pigs to survive. There he began to learn. There he began to come to
his senses.
On the other hand the elder brother stayed behind,
believing that "home is where the hearth is," a haven, a security, a
safe place which would eventually be his very own. He seemed at first glance to
be the better of the two men. He seemed settled, dependable, devoted to duty, a
no-nonsense participant in the family enterprise. But seeing him in action upon
receiving the news of his brother's return tarnishes the positive picture we
might have had of him. He disliked his wayward brother so much that he resents
his return. He complains to his father of being short-changed for all his
faithfulness, unhappy that his father wants to celebrate the prodigal's return.
He cannot bring himself to call him "brother," preferring to sting
him with the words, "this son of yours." But underneath it all is a
resentment of his father's love for an unworthy son. Like the laborers in the
vineyard, he "begrudged his father's generosity." Love was all right
when it extended to the respectable, to the faithful, to the deserving like
himself. As for his brother, "He made his bed; let him lie in it." He
resisted sharing the love he had known with anyone so undeserving.
And therein lies the contrast and the beauty of the third
character in the parable that is a waiting Father who demonstrates that,
indeed, "home is where the heart is." Each man needs his love and he
handles each man gently and patiently, offering that which neither deserves nor
could claim. He refused to invoke parental authority to settle the score,
reprimanding the wayward for his reckless extravagance or the whining one for
his jealousy and anger. Instead, each son is met with a loving address that
each one needed at that moment.
The prodigal son, returning with a heavy heart and a guilty
conscience and a wounded pride, is swept off his feet by a father's love that
had patiently waited for his return. Jesus tells us that the father ran to meet
him. Spotting him at a distance, he could not wait any longer to embrace his
son. Though the young man had hit the bottom, the father lifted him up. Though
the man had selfishly squandered his inheritance, the father welcomed him back
home. Though the man had disowned his family, the father restored his
membership in the family. The man learned again that which he had earlier despised
and partly forgotten, "Home is where the heart is," a heart beating
with love for him.
For those of us who, like the prodigal son, come to our
senses and want to come back home, we are assured of a Father's welcome and the
forgiveness and the grace we need for restoration of our membership in his
family. In fact, that is part of what the church is all about: to share the
forgiving and reconciling love of God with one another and with any who return
"from the far countries" of their wandering from God.
God never writes us off. He knows that his love, His
kindness and His forgiveness can always change us. His love can change anyone.
There is a story about a young boy who was the most ill-mannered, most trouble
causing boy in the neighborhood school. No one wanted to teach him, many had
tried, and many had failed. One day a new teacher came to the school, he was
told he did not have to have that troublesome boy in his class if he did not
want to. But the teacher said he would try. He began to relate to that boy with
kindness, justice, goodwill, and confidence. At the same time he dropped into
that relationship some seeds of ambition, hope and self-respect. His plan began
to work. The promising young student dropped his bad habits, studied day and
night, went to college, and graduated with honors. He studied law and
eventually he became an associate justice of the Supreme Court, a United States
Senator, Governor of New York and finally Secretary of State. His name was
William L. Marcy. Maybe you know another who has wandered into the "far
country" and is just now coming home.
The eldest son saw more duty than delight in manning the
home fires. He had stuck it out and now did not want any competition for the
attention or the affection of his father. Yet as he vented his anger and pouted
because of the fuss being made over his returning brother, he, too, met the
meaning of "heart" in the home. His father did not rebuke or ignore
him in the joy of the reunion; rather reminded him of the added blessings they
had been privileged to share in their joint ownership of "all that is
mine," alleviating any fear of being short-changed in the future. And then
he underscores the reason for celebrating, "this, your brother, was dead
and is alive; he was lost, and is found." It is not what the prodigal had
done, but that he had returned, which compels them all to make merry and to be
glad.
For those of us who, like the elder brother, have tried to
stay and do our duty here within the family of God, the story urges us to be
grateful for the love we have known and shared for many years. But it also
reminds us "to rejoice over each sinner who repents." Our acceptance
of the returning is a mark of our understanding and appreciation of the love of
the Father, which we have experienced, and the inheritance he has promised to
all who love him.
These are basic qualities of God's love for us all. Jesus
himself becomes the bridge over which we prodigals return home. Through him we
know that "Home is where the heart is." And for those of us, who,
like the elder brother, await the arrival of returning sisters and brothers, it
is again Jesus and his love, which enables us to receive and to welcome. Jesus
enables us to join in the celebration at every "family-reunion" no
matter where it takes place whether in the church or wherever his people
gather. We can celebrate the lost being found. May we continue to recognize
that "Home is where the heart is!" And it is the heart of God, which
reaches out and brings us to Himself that we might know that we are loved,
forgiven, accepted, and provided for now and forever. Let us follow Jesus on
the path home. Amen