Sermon Tone Analysis

There was a man who had two sons.

And the younger of them said to his father, “Father, give me the share of property that is coming to me.”

And he divided his property between them.

Not many days later, the younger son gathered all he had and took a journey into a far country, and there he squandered his property in reckless living.

And when he had spent everything, a severe famine arose in that country, and he began to be in need.

So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed pigs.

And he was longing to be fed with the pods that the pigs ate, and no one gave him anything.

But when he came to himself, he said, “How many of my father's hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger!

I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you.

“I am no longer worthy to be called your son.

Treat me as one of your hired servants.’”'

And he arose and came to his father.

But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him.

And the son said to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you.

I am no longer worthy to be called your son.”

But the father said to his servants, “Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet.

And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate.

For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.”

And they began to celebrate.

Now his older son was in the field, and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing.

And he called one of the servants and asked what these things meant.

And he said to him, “Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fattened calf, because he has received him back safe and sound.”

But he was angry and refused to go in.

His father came out and entreated him, but he answered his father, “Look, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might celebrate with my friends.

But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him!”

And he said to him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.

It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found.”[1]

The old minister had completed his last message in the series of revival meetings.

Anxious to get home to wife and friends he arranged to transport his bags to the bus station where he would catch a late-night Greyhound bus.

Sitting down in the only seat available in the crowded bus, he discovered that he was seated beside a young man of indeterminate age.

His face betrayed a hard life, and his clothing likewise revealed hard wear.

As the bus began to roll down the highway the old preacher couldn’t help but notice that tears were streaming down the younger man’s face.

The younger man tried to keep his head turned toward the window, but how do you hide the great sobs which convulse the body of the broken-hearted?

From time-to-time he would furtively lift a sleeve to his face to wipe his eyes and dry his glistening cheeks.

This continued throughout the ride as the bus rolled toward its destination.

Early in the first light of morning, having observed this broken-hearted man throughout the night hours, the old minister spoke: “Son, I’m a minister.

I cannot help but notice your tears.

Is there anything I could say to maybe help you?”

The young man turned to the old man and said, “I don’t know.

I don’t know.”

Gently the old preacher urged the young man by saying, “Perhaps I can help, son.

Please tell me why you are weeping so.”

 “Well, preacher,” began the young man, “I’ve roamed all across this country for quite a few years.

I left home early on.

I was wild and rebellious; I wouldn’t listen to my dad and I broke my mother’s heart.

I even struck my dad on one occasion and tried to get him to fight me.

Finally, Dad had to ask me to leave home.

‘Son,’ he said, ‘you’re breaking your mother’s heart.

It kills me to do this, but, Son, you will have to leave.’

“Preacher, about three weeks ago I gave my heart to Jesus.

He changed me, but I don’t know what can be done about the past.

In any case, I wrote my parents and asked if I could come home, and I’m travelling toward my home.

My folks live in the next town.”

The old minister considered what he had heard and then he asked the young man, “Son, how do you know if your folks will let you come home?”

The young man lifted his face as if considering how he should answer the question.

Finally, he said, “I wrote in my letter that I would be looking for a sign that I was welcome again at home.

You see, our house sits beside the road at the edge of town.

In the front yard, right beside the highway, stands an old apple tree.

I asked Dad to tie a big white rag in that apple tree if I would be welcomed home.

Preacher, I’m almost there, and I can’t stand to look.

Would you look and tell me if there is a white rag when we get there?

Preacher, would you do this for me?”

 “Of course, son.

Of course I’ll do that,” said the old minister.

As the bus drew nigh the little white frame house, the minister excitedly spoke: “Son, you needn’t worry.

That old apple tree is in full bloom.

There are rags tied on every limb and your parents are standing beside the tree waving big white towels.

Son, welcome home.”

That is a picture of God ever standing to receive the wanderer.

That is our God!

Our God waits to receive wanderers, not because of, but God waits to receive us in spite of.

Perhaps no more poignant illustration of this divine love has ever been provided than that which Jesus offered in the parable of the lost son.

If the loss of a sheep could not touch the hardened heart of the Pharisees and teachers of the law, if the thought of losing wealth failed to touch the heart of these religious leaders, then surely the loss of a child would touch their hearts.

Remember, however, that the focus of the parables has been the joy which should accompany finding that which has been lost.

If a shepherd rejoices over a sheep which is found, and if a woman rejoices over a coin which is found, and if a father rejoices over a wayward son who returns to the home, should we not rejoice over a sinner who comes home?

The God whom Jesus revealed must have been shocking to His listeners.

Imagine!

God actually searches for sinners!

And then He rejoices over them when they are found.

This third parable continues that theme as the Master directed attention to the seeker, only this time He presents God as always looking and yearning for the lost.

This God whom Jesus presented is not some austere, remote deity unconcerned for His fallen creation.

Instead, God is presented as a yearning father who longs for the sinner to come home.

Unlike the shepherd and the woman seeking the coin, the wandering boy was brought to repentance and forgiveness by the memory of the goodness of His father.

Perhaps the memory of God’s goodness will bring others home.

The Wanderer — There was a man who had two sons.

And the younger of them said to his father, “Father, give me the share of property that is coming to me.”

And he divided his property between them.

Not many days later, the younger son gathered all he had and took a journey into a far country, and there he squandered his property in reckless living.

And when he had spent everything, a severe famine arose in that country, and he began to be in need.

So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed pigs.

And he was longing to be fed with the pods that the pigs ate, and no one gave him anything.

But when he came to himself, he said, “How many of my father's hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger!

I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you.

“I am no longer worthy to be called your son.

Treat me as one of your hired servants.’”'

And he arose and came to his father.

Thomas Huxley said, “A man’s worst difficulties begin when he is able to do just as he likes.”

How true!

We are always heading for trouble when we value things more than people, pleasure more than duty, and distant scenes more than the blessings we have at home.

So it was that this young man valued possessions and pleasures more than relationship and responsibility.