One day, some Pharisees came to Jesus and complained that he was eating with outcasts and other sinners. Rather than barking back defensively, Jesus told them a three-part story.
For the sake of
brevity, we did not hear the first two parts of the parable read aloud this
morning, but they’re relevant to our discussion: the first part is about a lost
sheep, in which a shepherd shockingly leaves ninety-nine sheep to their own
devices in order to rescue one that wandered off. The second part is about a lost coin, in
which a woman searches feverishly for one of ten dowry coins until it, too, is
found.
The final part of this
three-part parable, which we heard this morning, is about a lost son. Or perhaps two lost sons, as the elder
son was as lost in his anger as the younger son was in his wild living. Commonly
known as the Parable of the Prodigal Son, it’s a wonderful illustration of the
human condition and God’s incomparable grace, a story that could be preached on
week after week without exhausting its possibilities.
Where I’m going to
start today, is with things I learned from two related books: Jesus Through
Middle Eastern Eyes by Kenneth Bailey, and Misreading Scripture with
Western Eyes by Randolph Richards and Brandon O’Brien. These authors have reconstructed the cultural
assumptions of the audience who would have heard the Parable of the Prodigal
Son first-hand, and they describe three moments in the parable that the
audience would have found jarring:
Jarring moment number one happens when the younger son demands that
he be paid his inheritance, right now. Just think of it, from an agricultural
standpoint: the inheritance wasn’t money, it was a half-share in the family
farm. The only way to pay that out in
advance is to sell half of the land and livestock, with the father and the
elder son retaining the remaining half.
While the father in the parable agrees to subdivide the property, Kenneth
Bailey indicates that the actual response in a middle eastern society would
consist of (1) a statement by the parent that this land comes available only
when he is are cold and dead; (2) a back-handed slap across the face of the
offending son; and (3) permanent banishment from the land. This course of action would have been so
well-established, in fact, that the hearers of this parable would wonder what
never-never land Jesus has set his story in, because it could never have
happened where they live, not a chance. But, says Jesus, this parent – a
metaphor for God - is not bound by rules of propriety, this parent is bound
only by love, so he allows the younger son to follow his heart and, cash in
hand, junior leaves for a place far away from home.
Jarring moment number two comes when the younger son, who has
lived an extravagant or “prodigal” life, turns for home. Having wasted his precious inheritance on a raunchy,
wasteful lifestyle, he knew he was no longer part of the family he’d grown up
in, and could barely even imagine that there would be a place for him back as a
hired hand on the ranch. He knew that none
of the neighbours would have anything to do with him, because in treating his
parents as he had done, he would be as dead to the neighbours as he was to his
own family. And here, generations of preachers
have often taken a misguided step. We want to see in turning for home, a
conversion moment, when the young man believes in advance that only the loving
arms of his Father can save him.
But the story sure
doesn’t say that. It does imply that the
young man heads toward home both embarrassed and humiliated, and he does apologize,
but Randolph Richards and Brandon O’Brien point to verse fourteen of today’s
scripture: the primary reason he heads for home is because of a widespread famine
in the land. He turns for home, because things were so hopeless that he’d try
anything. When he demanded his half of the inheritance the younger son had
basically said, “Dad, I wish you were dead and I’d like my land now” and there
was no chance at all of being accepted back by his parent. But, says Jesus, this parent – this God of
ours - is not bound by those rules of propriety, this parent is bound only
by love, and the way the story unfolds, with welcome and celebration, exceeds
the younger son’s wildest dreams.
And then we have jarring moment number three: the eager response of the parent when
the prodigal returns would be scandalous to the original audience. When the son comes within visual range of his
dad, his father’s “heart is filled with pity, and he ran, threw his arms around
his son, and kissed him”, and before the prodigal could say a thing, his father
sent a servant to “bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and shoes on his
feet. Then go and get the prize calf and
kill it, and let us celebrate with a feast!”
This presents one stiff jolt after another for Jesus’ listeners. First off, in that culture it was humiliating
for a man over the age of 40 to run for ANY purpose, but beyond that you have
all the other problems already outlined:
Nobody would do what this father did. But, says Jesus, this parent is not bound by
those rules of propriety, this parent is bound only by love. Who cares about the cultural rules? The son
who was as good as dead has come back to life, start the feast and strike up
the band!! God received the return of
the lost child as cause for celebration.
In shaping this story
as he did, with such disregard for social convention, Jesus would capture his
audience’s attention and perhaps raise their anger. He portrays God, not as one who is bound by cultural
expectations, but as one whose foundational love transcends all. And as Kenneth Bailey wrote, thinking once
more of how this parable would be heard initially and, well, now, “Grace is not
only amazing, it’s infuriating!” And
with this, I feel my embarrassment rise, for the slow burn of the more dutiful brother
who stayed and worked for his father and resented the wastrel’s return is
perhaps more familiar to me than the joy of the father. I can identify with the elder lad more than I
care to admit, times in my life when I thought that someone else had been
allowed to follow an easier path than the one I’d had to walk. In those moments, I am like the elder son
and, as it turns out, like the Pharisees who had confronted Jesus in the first
place: pious, dutiful, and utterly without grace.
The God of Jesus’
understanding, the God who indwells him and inspires every bit of his teaching
and healing and self-sacrifice, is a God whose love is so deep that nothing can
subdue it. A sheep who foolishly wanders
off, a coin that may never be found through no fault of its own, a child who is
easy picking when temptations call hither, all three of these elicit the same
response from our loving parent: you are lost, and I’m not going to stop looking until I find you and restore you.
And then we will celebrate! Yes, unlike
the sheep or coin who needed to be searched for, the prodigal son voluntarily
turned for home so it was a matter of receiving him rather than finding him, but
the restoration to the larger group was still done by God, the everlasting
source of love. In the season of Lent, the path of desolation followed by Jesus,
which led to crucifixion, and the power of love and grace, which led to
resurrection, show us that holy love once more.
It is noteworthy that
while the stories of the lost sheep and lost coin both end with the words, “In
the same way [as there was rejoicing when these were found] there is rejoicing
in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” (Luke 15:
10), assuring us of God’s eternal and heavenly welcome and delight, the ending
of the story of the prodigal son is different.
Jesus leaves the story of the Prodigal unfinished, with the parent
attempting to help his elder son find enough grace in his heart to welcome his
brother home: “My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and
everything I have is yours. But we had to
celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive
again; he was lost and is found.’” (Luke 15: 31-32).
This wonderful
three-part parable ends, then, not with everything neatly worked out and tied
up with a bow, but with the messiness of what happens next. That, to me, suggests that this story is ours
to finish. From a personal standpoint, there are times in my life when the
reality of God’s unconditional love has meant absolutely everything to me: the
sense that no matter how much I had screwed up, no matter how badly I had
squandered the gifts of life, our outrageously gracious God still greets me
with love. The culturally inappropriate
image of God, running down the road in a place where an adult simply did not do
that, shows that nothing can keep the God of love from being the God of love. I hope, for all of us, that this sense of
God’s love in all circumstances feels true and trustworthy. I hope that in
those times when we might find it hard to love ourselves, when guilt or shame
overwhelms us, when we yearn to end an estrangement, or when we are the one feeling wronged, God’s
active, out-reaching forgiveness and love will hold us close and awaken in us
the reality of grace, given and received.
From a societal
standpoint, though, I admit to needing a bit of extra reassurance right now,
for it feels like we Canadians, and in many ways the world as a whole, are still
out in the land where the prodigal son got stranded by a perfect storm, of
famine in the land just when his cash reserves had been drained. Though I was reassured somewhat by the
positive meeting on Friday between Prime Minister Carney and the 47th
President of the USA, the current brokenness in Canada’s relationship with our
closest neighbours, resembles the split between the siblings in this story, who
got along just fine until something outrageous happened. If and when the time
is right, how will we rebuild that relationship with our neighbours? Will we be able to turn for home, or to find a
new relationship with them that is healthy and stable? It is certain to me that
we will need God’s own grace and courage, in no small measure, if any degree of
reconciliation is to happen. And while much of my attention recently has been
captured by this national concern, the brokenness in our world widespread. As I consider what is faced by the people of
Gaza and Ukraine, by queer and trans folx, by immigrants and refugees, by Indigenous
peoples around the earth and by the planet itself… our need for God’s gracious,
powerful, reconciling love comes clearer and clearer. As the younger son who
deserves nothing is held in the loving embrace of his Papa, we see that love in
action. That broad, loving intention of God, God’s yearning for the world and
all who dwell therein to be restored to health and sanity and resultant
rejoicing, restores in me a flicker of hope, and for now that will need to
suffice.
Relatable across
cultures and across the ages, the story of the prodigal is a story that will
land differently for each person.
Perhaps there is unresolved brokenness in your story that comes to the
surface; if so, let God be present to that.
Perhaps you have personal experience of dramatic healing; may we rejoice
with you in that. Perhaps the love
described here is too big for you to really believe; may you be patient with that. In all of it, we give thanks for a God whose
very essence is the expression of LOVE, and for a parable from two thousand
years ago which touches our hearts today.
Thanks be to God, Amen.
References cited:
Bailey, Kenneth. Jesus
through Middle Eastern Eyes: Cultural Studies in the Gospels. Downers
Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2008 – and - Poet
and Peasant and Through Peasant eyes: A literary-cultural approach to the
Parables. Grand Rapids, MI:
Eerdmans, 1983.
Richards, E. Randolph
and O’Brien, Brandon J. Misreading scripture with western eyes: removing
cultural blinders to better understand the Bible. Downers Grove, IL: IVP,
2012.
See also:
Doyle, Larry. https://www.baptistpress.com/resource-library/news/first-person-how-would-you-end-the-prodigal-parable/
LeMay, Mark.
https://www.parallax.org/mindfulnessbell/article/the-prodigal-son/
Thomas, Debie. http://journeywithjesus.net/essays/856-letters-to-prodigals
© Rev. Greg Wooley, Osoyoos-Oliver United Church Pastoral Charge, 2025.
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