Parable of The Prodigal Son

Today we are starting a new sermon series that is going to take us all the way through Labor Day. The Parables of Jesus. We are going to dig in to some of Jesus’s parables while catching a glimpse from each as to what the Kingdom of God is like. We can learn quite a bit about the Kingdom from Jesus’s teaching if wee look closely.

This morning, we are going to start with the parable of the prodigal son. This story has been told numerous times throughout the history of the church. It is displayed in paintings hung in the most prestigious art museums around the world. It has been retold by in every format from novels to cartoon vegetables. The danger of stories that become so familiar to us is that we tend to look at them the same way, with the same eyes. We tend to approach them with the same biases and come away from them with the same understandings. Even if the story is retold by a cartoon cucumber and his tomato friend, we still often see the story the same way.

Luke 15:11–32 NIV

11 Jesus continued: “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The 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. 14 After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16 He 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 servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18 I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ 20 So 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.’ 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. 23 Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. 24 For 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. 26 So 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. 29 But 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. 30 But 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. 32 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.’ ”

We tend to view this story by focusing on the prodigal son. This younger son is viewed as selfish. He wants his inheritance now, which by the way in that day was equivalent to telling his father “I wish you were dead.” His father relents, giving him his share and watched him leave, not knowing if he would ever see his son again. The son thinks this is great. He has money all of a sudden and starts to live like he did. He is enjoying living a lavish lifestyle and having all kinds of fun - what the Scriptures call “wild living.”

The son enjoys this for quite some time, then a realization hits him. The money ran out. He realizes that now he cannot continue to live this way and has to find a way to earn money. Keep in mind that there were no welfare programs or food stamps or anything that would help him. He had to find work. On top of that, Scripture tells us that there was a severe famine - meaning that food was scarce and growing more wasn’t working out so well. He finds himself feeding pigs and finding the slop looks appealing.

He realizes in those moments that even his father’s servants eat better than this and devises a plan. He decides he will go back to his father and ask to be one of his servants, for he is no longer worthy to be called son. I can picture this son rehearsing what he is going to say all the way, knots in his stomach, gripped with fear at what his father will say. Imagine his surprise when his father starts running toward him with open arms. Imagine his surprise when his father announces he is throwing a party in his honor.

Another way this story is viewed is as a story of two brothers. The older one is more responsible but less loving: jealous of the grace bestowed upon his reckless younger brother. The older brother could have asked to receive his inheritance as well, if you caught that in the text, yet he chose to stay home and help manage the property, something that would have been expected of the older brother. He felt a sense of responsibility to his father and I can imagine the outrage when he sees how his father treats his younger brother when he comes home. He is jealous that he has never had a party like this.

These approaches to the story are good ways to view them, and both have ways to challenge us into deeper discipleship with Jesus, challenging us not to look down on others who may come to Christ from more of a difficult or wild path than we did, or challenging us to finally give up the life of pig-feeding to come home. And still many of us read it with the bias of “I’m grateful I’m neither of these brothers.”

What if we take some time to repent of our biases and read this story anew with the intent to grow? What if we look at this story with new eyes, in a new way? What if by looking at this story in a fresh, new light will give us insight into God’s Kingdom?

What if, instead of looking at this story and focusing on the prodigal son, defining it by the ways the son has failed, by the ways he has been selfish, the things he has squandered, and what he has lost . . . Or what if, instead of looking at this story and focusing on the two brothers, one defined by his recklessness and the other by his jealousy . . . What if, instead, we look at this as the story of the loving father?

It was the expectation that Jewish men would control their estate while they were alive. It would have been shameful for an heir to request his inheritance prior to the father’s death.

While shameful for the son to ask for his inheritance early, it would have been equally shameful, if not more so, for the father to actually give the inheritance to his son.

In rare cases, the father might divide his land for his sons to manage while he was still alive, but would be the father’s choice; it would not be the children’s place to ask for it.

The fact that the father gave his son his share of the estate shows the absolutely radical generosity of the father. The story never says the father asks the intentions of the son. Despite that shame would be brought upon him, he is still generous to his son. In spite of the son essentially telling the father, “I wish you were dead,” the father still grants the son his request.

Most parents know if their children are spenders or savers. The father probably had some idea of how the son would use his inheritance. Yet the father still gave him his inheritance out of his heart of generosity. The father is a just landowner.

We can infer that the father is just and compassionate because, even though the younger son has squandered all of his wealth and is starving to death, the son is longing to be one of his father’s well-cared-for servants.

The Father’s servants are fed enough, seemingly, even during a famine. While we don’t know if the famine stretches from where the son is to where the father is, it would be hard to think of a large famine not having an effect even miles away. It seems that even during times of scarcity, the father ensures that his servants are fed. The son knows that even if he comes home as a servant, he will be well cared for.

This implies that the father is not cruel or unkind to his servants but treats them justly. The father is patient and just. The text says that “while the son was still a long way off, the father saw him.” The only way he would have seen him would be if he was looking for him. Day after day after day.

While we don’t know how long it takes the son to squander his funds and come to a place of destitution, we know people in our lives we would describe as prodigals, and it can take years, decades, for them to hit rock bottom. Which means the father was potentially waiting and looking for his son for years. Even if it wasn’t for years, the loss of a son, and the grief that can cause to a good and loving parent, would have felt like a lifetime, yet he kept looking. The Father is compassionate. When the father saw his son, he had compassion on him. The word “compassion” here is a strong word, meaning to be moved in the inward parts. He was moved to the very core of his being to act in love toward his son. This compassion caused the father to run toward his son.

We are not given an indication of the age of the father, but if the son was gone for years, it is very likely he is an aged man. The word “run” here is the same word that would be used to describe an athlete in a race. He is running—not jogging, but running—with full force and purpose to get to his son. He is so overcome with compassion that he does not wait for the son to get to him; he goes to his son as quickly as he possibly can. The father forgives lavishly. The son doesn’t even finish his speech before the father is having him adorned like royalty, reclaiming him as his son. He doesn’t ask where he was, where the money is, or how he ended up smelling like pigs; he just welcomes him home. The wanderings of the prodigal son are never once mentioned by the father.

The father loves extravagantly. The response to the son coming home is a party. This party includes food and celebration. If this were still during a famine, and if that famine impacted this family, he still sought to celebrate the son with extravagance.

He doesn’t allow the older brother to ruin the party. When the brother is jealous, he invites him back into the party. He reiterates the love he has for both of his children. He speaks of celebration and rejoicing at the younger son being found. This is the way God cares for us. God erases the shame of feeling like prodigals. We often focus so much on being lost that we become mired in our own unworthiness. We move into feelings of shame. God removes those feelings from us.

Despite our failings, God is still generous. He bestows upon us blessings, maybe not of material wealth, but he is generous in his gifts to us. Though we often would say to God, “I’d rather you were dead,” he still continues to give us good things.

A Sobering Mercy

In the early 1950s teenage Lyle Dorsett and his family moved to Birmingham from Kansas City, Missouri. They were outsiders, often labeled Yankees by peers. But one summer evening in 1953, Dorsett was walking to his house after work and decided to take a shortcut through the campus of then-Howard College (now Samford University).

He was immediately intrigued by the sight he saw: a large tent on the football field featuring a magnetic preacher. As Dorsett drew near, he could hear evangelist Eddie Martin preaching on the parable of the prodigal son, calling other prodigals to come home. Dorsett said, “I knew I was the prodigal and … needed to come home.” Martin asked those in attendance to return the next evening. Dorsett came early, and this time was seated near the front. When the call came, “the evangelist led me through a sinner’s prayer. I confessed my need for forgiveness. While being led in prayer, I strongly felt the presence of Jesus Christ. I sensed his love and forgiveness as well as his call to preach the gospel.”

Shortly thereafter, Dorsett and his parents joined a local Baptist church. However, 18 months later, Dorsett’s family moved back to Kansas City. On his return, gradually he drifted. During his time in college, he embraced a materialistic worldview. He received a Ph.D. in history but despite professional success, he began to drink heavily and became an alcoholic. His wife, Mary, who became a Christian after their marriage, began to pray.

One evening, he stormed out of the house after Mary asked him not to drink around the children. He found a bar and drank until closing. While driving up a winding mountain road, he stopped at an overlook and blacked out. The next morning, he woke up on a dirt road at the bottom of a mountain next to a cemetery not having any memory of the drive.

Dorsett cried out to God, “Lord, if you are there, please help me.” At that moment, he recognized that the same presence he had met in Birmingham was with him in the car and loved him. The prodigal son had finally, truly come home. He said, “Although I made countless mistakes, the Lord never gave up on me.”

God then called Dorsett to full-time ministry, ordination in the Anglican Church, and eventually to the Billy Graham Chair of Evangelism at Beeson Divinity School, Samford University, where he had first heard God’s call to preach. He concludes,

Over the years God has proved to be a gentle Comforter—like when Mary underwent massive surgery for cancer, and when our 10-year-old daughter died unexpectedly. Certainly, the most humbling and reassuring lesson is his persistence in drawing me to himself. And it was he who pursued me and sustained the relationship when I strayed in ignorant sheeplike fashion, doubted his existence, and then like the Prodigal Son deliberately moved to the far country. And it is all grace—unearned, undeserved, unrepayable grace. https://www.preachingtoday.com/illustrations/2023/february/sobering-mercy.html

Did you notice the characteristics of God’s Kingdom that we saw in this parable?

God is absolutely radically generous to us

God is just.

God is patient with us.

We fail time and time again, yet God continually watches and waits for us.

God is compassionate.

God seeks us out, and while he waits for us to return to him, he meets us along the road and forgives lavishly

He runs towards us. He pursues us

He doesn’t bring up our past misdeeds but forgives and forgets.

God loves each of us (and all people) extravagantly.

We are celebrated when we come to God.

When the prodigal son relapses

Almost five years to the day after he returned home the first time, the prodigal son emptied his bank account, packed a few changes of clothes, and snuck off for the faraway country. Again.

The first year back he was just glad to be home. The second year was toughest; he still couldn’t get (rid of) … the shame that chewed away at his soul. The third year, things leveled out a little. He started feeling more at home, back in synch with his former life. The fourth year, certain things began to irk him. His old itches longed to be scratched. And the fifth year, it happened. All the former allurements came knocking, rapping their knuckles on his heart’s front door.

And so the prodigal relapsed. Re-sinned. Re-destroyed his life.

You know him—or her. Maybe it’s your best friend. Maybe it's your child. Or maybe it’s you. That thing you swore you’d never do again, you did it last night. You left the straight and narrow. Prodigals have a way of finding themselves right back in the pigsty.

In that moment … heaven and hell contend within you. Hell shouts, “Now you’ve gone and done it. You stupid piece of garbage. You’re a lost, lonely, hopeless cause. You’re a pig. And that’s all you’ll ever be.”

But there is another voice. It’s the voice of heaven, the familiar lilt of a Dad’s voice, echoing down the long hallways of hope … down to the deepest, darkest caverns of your pain. He doesn’t accuse. He doesn’t berate. He only mouths two simple words … of heaven’s redemptive love: “Come Home.”

The second time, the third time, the thousandth time, he will sprint … to meet you down the street, throw his arms around you, kiss you, and command that the fattened calf be barbecued. The Father is standing on the porch, his hand shading the sun from his eyes, scanning the horizon for the familiar image of the one who will ever remain, his precious, beloved child. “Come home.” https://www.preachingtoday.com/illustrations/2022/september/when-prodigal-son-relapses.html

We do not need to live in the shame of our past, or in jealousy over the grace we see bestowed upon others. We can sit in the promise that we follow a God of deep compassion, love, and forgiveness. We can walk toward God as God runs toward us with an embrace of comfort and compassion. We don’t need to even finish our speech of contrition before God begins to wrap us in his arms, for he is a good Father who loves us with complete abandon and is just waiting to see us approach home.

RESPONSE & PRAYER

The way the Father lavishes his love and grace and mercy on us might seem reckless to us. It might seem like He should give up on some, just like we might be tempted to do. However, I, for one, am glad that we have a God that pursues us this way, even if it seems reckless to us.

As we close this morning, join me in singing about God’s reckless love for us.

BENEDICTION

2 Peter 3:14 & 18

Therefore, beloved, be zealous to be found by him without spot or blemish, and at peace. Grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be the glory both now and to the day of eternity. Amen.