Back Home Again (and the Prodigal God)

Welcome back.

I have been on a long hiatus from the good old blog.  I now announce (as have so many times before) my return.

The last few months have been filled with great joy, watching Elliott grow from a tiny baby to a literal toddler.  He just turned one in September, and has been walking for about three months, which he has more or less mastered at this point.  Elliott is awesome, and well worth sacrificing time from other more superfluous things (like, say, a blog).  Add to that that we are six months away from baby No. 2, which hits the world hits coming March, and is already garnering a lot of rave reviews (being touted not so much as a sequel to the first one - Elliott 2: Elliott Harder - but more a whole new production, with similar themes, yet completely different than No. 1)

At the same time, there have been a lot of other life elements outside of the home which have caused the past several months to be fairly "unpredictable."  In the midst of this, I have understandably lost a certain level of "routine," and have therefore become backlogged on a lot of things.  So I figured some sort of structure is in order.  Blogging again is set to be one of those.  At first, I am back to at least once a week, but seek do even more regular writing as I go forth.

So here is day one of the return to the blog.

I relay to you the basics of a sermon that I gave last month.  The sermon was on the parable of the Prodigal from Luke 15.  As I prepared for it, I was excited to see what God was saying in this passage that I had never seen before.  I had not really seen this approach to the parable before, and was excited to share the insight with others - then I read of Tim Keller's book The Prodigal God, which essentially saw the same thing in the parable I was so proud to have discovered.  This tells me two things:  first, God is still speaking to us through the Bible, and often the most "familiar" passages are the ones which can give us the most unexpected insight.  And two, that neither Tim Keller or I actually came up with a "new reading" of this passage.  The Holy Spirit is revealing things to us - God is present in the exposition of the Word.  Hebrews tells us that "the Word of God is living and active..." which means that it's still alive, still relevant, still speaking...  Ignoring scripture, or dismissing it as "not culturally relevant" is boxing up God and saying that he cannot speak to us through this book anymore.  If we are saying that he can't do that, what else are we saying that he can't do?

So anyway, here you go - my thoughts (and Tim Keller's), both of which are not really ours, but God's - on The Prodigal:

Luke 15:11-32

 ¹¹Jesus continued: "There was a man who had two sons. ¹²The younger one said to his father, 'Father, give me my share of the estate.' So he divided his property between them.

 ¹³"Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. ¹⁴After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. ¹⁵So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. ¹⁶He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.

 ¹⁷"When he came to his senses, he said, 'How many of my father's hired men have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! ¹⁸I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. ¹⁹I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men.' ²⁰So he got up and went to his father.
      "But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.

 ²¹"The son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.^[b]'

 ²²"But the father said to his servants, 'Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. ²³Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let's have a feast and celebrate. ²⁴For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' So they began to celebrate.

 ²⁵"Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. ²⁶So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. ²⁷'Your brother has come,' he replied, 'and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.'

 ²⁸"The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. ²⁹But he answered his father, 'Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. ³⁰But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!'

 ³¹" 'My son,' the father said, 'you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. ³²But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' "

…

 ¹Now the tax collectors and "sinners" were all gathering around to hear him. ²But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, "This man welcomes sinners and eats with them."

Aside from the nativity story, this might be one of the most familiar stories in the bible.  We have probably all heard it more times that we can remember, and so we feel comfortable in assuming that we know what it’s all about.  However, it’s specifically because this is such a familiar passage that we need to look carefully at it, to see what is there that we might have missed, and what isn’t there that we were always assuming was.

In truth, this passage is really part of the larger thought that was started at the beginning of chapter 15.  The chapter starts out saying, “¹Now the tax collectors and "sinners" were all gathering around to hear him. ²But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, "This man welcomes sinners and eats with them."” Jesus hears this and proceeds to tell the people the parable of the lost sheep, emphasizing the desire of the shepherd to find the lost sheep, and the joy that he had in finding it.  Jesus then continues, in the same thought, to tell the parable of the lost coin, telling of the woman who turns her house upside down in order to find a coin that was lost, and again emphasizing the desire to find the lost, and the joy in finding it.  He then continues on with this parable.  The text specifically sets about linking the three parables together, as this is one unified point that Jesus is making (even noting in our text today, “Jesus continued…”).

In light of this, verse one becomes incredibly important – why was Jesus telling these three parables?  It seems to be a direct result of the scoffing of the Pharisees and teachers of the law, who detest of Jesus company with sinners.  In this way, the three parables of the Lost are a response to the scoffs of the Pharisees – a direct answer to their taunts.

As I said, the first two emphasize the celebration of finding the lost.  Our parable today also does that, but it leaves us without an ending…  Let’s start at the beginning.  The younger son demands that his father give him his share of the inheritance, and he then sets out to live a life of wild living.  The inheritance was what was to be his after his father died, so he was in essence saying to his father, “I don’t want to wait until you die.  I want my money now.”

After what we assume is a good while, the younger son has spent all of his inheritance, and then, after a famine hits the country, he is forced to work for a man who owns pigs (a gentile).  The younger son is so hungry that he is willing to eat the food that the pigs are eating – symbolizing that he has gone as low as he possibly can.  It is here that he resolves to go back to his father.

But here, it is important to realize why he goes back – it is not because he feels remorse or sorrow.  It is because he is hungry.  He needs something that his father has.  He needs nourishment.  There is no real reason to believe that the son is returning for any other reason.  Even the line that the son says, “'Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son,” is rehearsed.  The son does not reach this as a conclusion, he plots it as a way for him to get back into his father’s house and get some food.  When he returns to the house, he sees his father, who runs to him and embraces him.  How does the younger son react?  ““'Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son,” – not with tears or hugs in return.  With a line.  The father’s love was poured out the second he saw the son, and it appears that he didn’t even hear (or care) what it was that the son said.  He immediately throws a party, much like the shepherd in the first parable, and the woman in the second parable.

But here is where this parable is different.  There is a second son.  This is the elder son.  This is the son who did not run away, who stayed at home and did everything the right way.  (On a side note, the gospel of Luke was originally written in Greek, and the Greek word for “elder” is “presbuteros,” which is where we get the word “Presbyterian.”  So we might call the elder son “the Presbyterian son.”  Let’s wait a few minutes on that, though to see if you really want to…).

The elder son sees that there is a party being thrown for his brother who had run away, and he refuses to go in.  The father comes out and pleads with the elder son to join the party.  The elder son refuses, angrily stating that he has being slaving away at home, doing what is right, but his father never threw him a party.   He even pulls the “YOUR SON” line, essentially disowning his brother, (you know that trick, parents…) “this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes…”  “But you are with me, and all that I have is yours,” replies the father, and then the father replies by reconnecting the bond between the two “this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”

And then, here is the most incredible part of the story – it ends.  Not with a “Yeah,” or an “ah!” but with a “huh?!”

There is no conclusion.  No real ending.  The two previous stories focus on the finding of the lost, and conclude with the celebration of the found.  This story has that celebration, but the climax of the story is instead on the refusal to recognize that which is found, an unwillingness to celebrate.  It ends with scoffing.

If we see the passage for what it is, that all of chapter 15 is one solid episode, we see that the entire passage begins and ends with scoffing – with a mocking and refusal to celebrate with those who aren’t good enough.  Jesus is telling these parables specifically for the Pharisees and teachers of the law – the religious people who do everything right.  The church people.

Usually when we read this story, we like to imagine that we are the younger son, the son who runs away, but when he sees the error of his ways, he returns to his father, and upon seeing how sorry the younger son is, the father forgives him, and celebrates the sons return.  It makes us understand the forgiving nature of God, even in the face of our inclination to sin and run away from God, and emphasizes that if we merely humble ourselves and ask for God’s forgiveness, we will be accepted again.  It’s a feel good story about how much God loves us.

The problem with that understanding is that the story doesn’t go like that.  It’s not about one brother, it’s about two brothers.  It’s not about forgiveness, it’s about celebration, and the struggle to participate in that.  The younger son doesn’t even truly repent.  He wasn’t seeking reconciliation, he was merely seeking nourishment.  He did not expect restoration.  The older brother refuses to acknowledge his brother.  He doesn’t think that the younger brother deserves a party.  And he’s right.  But who ever said that parties are only thrown for people who have earned them?

Instead of a feel good story, what we have in reality is a challenge – a conundrum.  A non-ending.

Most of us have been raised to believe that good deeds are rewarded, that if we work hard and live good lives, there will be treasures in heaven for us.  We want life to be fair.  We want the people who work hard to be the ones who succeed.  We want the people who squander their lives to have to pay for it eventually, to learn their lesson.

But that’s not how it is with God.  If Jesus is telling us anything conclusive with this parable, it is that God’s love for us is not fair.  He loves the ones who are faithful, but he loves the ones who are unfaithful, too.  The big question that Jesus leaves us with in this parable is this:  How much does that matter to you?  Does it matter enough that you would refuse to go to the party?

The story we read from Jonah is much the same way.  It’s another famous bible story that actually ends far differently than we would like to imagine.  We usually end it with the whale, God saving Jonah even in his disobedience, and loving him anyway.  Jonah learns his lesson, and goes on serving God.  But that’s not how that story goes either.  Jonah does finally go and do God’s work, but only after he tried everything he could to escape it.  When he finally does what God has asked him to do, he complains that it turns out differently.  How could God forgive the Ninevites??  They were terrible people.  If God’s not going to give them what they deserve, then Jonah has had it!  He doesn’t even want to live any more.  This story ends much the same as today’s parable, with a father pleading for his child to understand how his love works, that it’s bigger that we can understand, that it isn’t fair, and with a child stubbornly standing on the outside, refusing to accept that.

In Australia, cow herding is a huge industry.  There are two main ways in which it can be done.  One way is the “bounded set,” which puts a fence around the heard, to protect them from what it outside, and to keep them all inside.  If the fence is secure, little is required by the cattle to remain safe.

The other method is called the open set, or centered set.  Many of the herds in Australia are far too big for it to be economically feasible for a fence to be built, so instead, ranchers will dig a well, and create a spring.  Since water is relatively scarce in the wilds of Australia, the cattle will naturally stay close to this body of water, and no fence is needed.  

The main difference between the two is access to the center.  The bounded set requires little of the cattle, and no well is needed at the center.  The cattle can simply be watered from a trough each day to get what they need.  However, it is very clear which cattle are in, and which are out.

The open set puts the emphasis not on the boundary of in or out, but instead on the substance at the center.  There is a genuine need of all living things for water, and the cattle, no matter how far away they stray, will always be drawn back to that need.

Why am I talking about Australian cattle ranches?

This is the story of the church.  When we put all our emphasis on who is out and who is in, we have little need for emphasis on what is at the center.  There is no real need for a strong center if you have a clear fence designating who is in and who is out.

On the other hand, if we were to get rid of the boundaries, and focus on where our center is, then we would be able to fill ourselves with water, and others would be drawn in as well.

The story of the lost son is the story of a crazy father whose love is unfair.  He throws a party for his son who has disowned him.  He embraces and accepts the son back into his him before the son can even say a word.  There is no boundary, no debt he has to repay.  It is also the story of two sons, one who is undeserving of and not expecting love but is served it in abundance, and another son who refuses to join in the celebration until his philandering brother makes amends.

The word “prodigal,” which is usually attributed to the younger son in this story, is one that we might misunderstand.  It simply means “recklessly extravagant.”  It is an apt description of how the son was with his inheritance, but it is perhaps an even more adequate description of how the father is with his love.  God’s love for us is unreasonable.  It makes no sense, and it’s frustratingly available to those who seem like they deserve it, and those who clearly do not. 

What the story is showing us is that we don’t serve God so that he will throw us a party.  We are all invited to the party right now.  We can’t earn what is already offered freely.  Instead, we should serve God with joy as a response to the love he already has for us, not so that we can get some reward later.  Christ has destroyed that boundary, and dug a well for us.  Our response should be to try to tell as many people as we can about this party, and get them to come, too.

But are we truly doing that?  Do we honestly want EVERYONE to get in to the party? 

What if we got to heaven, and Hitler was there...  Would you want to go in?

Or are we the scoffers, the Pharisees, the elder brother?  The ones who understand the value of the gift that Christ offers, but don’t want others to simply walk in and enjoy what we have been working our whole lives for? 

Are we the younger brother, blindly coming back home each week simply hoping to get a place at the workers table to get enough food to get us through the week, not really invested in reconciling, but simply in search of a quick meal?

Jesus is telling us that, it doesn’t really matter which son we are – both are invited to the party.  Both should rejoice. This whole collection points to the fact that God cares far more about rejoicing in that which is found than he does about simply being a good person and doing what it right.

We need to know what is at our center.  If our core is simply determining who is in and who is out, separating ourselves from the danger that surrounds us, then we don’t actually have a center – we merely have a fence.  Is our focus on bringing as many as we can to the well, or are we simply focused on maintaining the fence?

What does it mean to take the fence down, and center ourselves solely on Christ, truly understanding the love that Christ is talking about in the parable, a love that is indiscriminate and prodigal, for all people, whether they deserve it or not? 

What would that church look like?

God is pleading for us to come to the party and celebrate what is found.  Are we willing to go in? 

God loves you and me and the entire world.  And it’s not fair.  Let’s rejoice in that.