Sermon
St. Philip's Episcopal Church, Durham, NC
March 18, 2007 - Fourth Sunday of Lent
The Rev. Vicki L. Smith
Luke 15:11-32
The parable of the Prodigal son; the parable of the
loving Father; or the parable of the Elder Brother – all three are
acceptable titles for this most familiar of parables that we just heard –
the story of a Father, two sons and their relationships. The title we give
it at any given time comes primarily from which character we most identify
with, whose story we most need to hear or whose story speaks to us most
clearly. Each time I hear this story I am reminded of its depth and
richness and that there is always more to be learned and new insights to be
gained, even from a story so familiar.
Keep the basic story in mind – a father, two sons and
their relationships, as we reflect together a bit on why Jesus told this
story and what he wants us to learn about our God and his relationship with
us, his children.
Notice first the Father’s unconditional generosity,
even in the face of his son’s most audacious request. The father gives the
inheritance to his sons well before he was obligated to do that. The
children did not have to wait for their gift, but received it upon request.
This father is exceedingly generous and gives freely – and notice the
inheritance is given to both sons. The elder, though he did not ask,
receives his gift as well.
And these gifts come with no strings attached. There
are no requirements with this inheritance – no limitations, no restrictions,
no partial payouts to see how they do. The father simply gives, freely and
generously – the children are free to respond as they choose.
The father trusts his children, even knowing that they
may, and in this case do, make poor choices with what they’ve received. We
children of God can accept God’s gifts and use them well, as the Elder Son
did, or we can squander them as the prodigal did. We may wander away, even
far, far away, as we will; we are allowed to sink very low, (and a Jewish
boy feeding pigs is about as low as you can go). Our heavenly Father lets
us make our own choices with his gifts, knowing that some of our choices
will be good ones and others will not, but these are free gifts, given to
free people to use or waste as we choose.
The next thing to notice is the Father’s ever-ready
welcome. The door is always open—we can always come home to him. The
prodigal’s return was not scheduled – he didn’t call ahead or ask the Father
to clear his calendar, he simply came home when he needed to, when he
realized that he needed to. Like the prodigal, sometimes we learn the
lessons of our foolish choices and our unworthy behavior very painfully –
and even then, as the prodigal did, we can come to ourselves and know not
only our sin but also God’s overwhelming and abiding love. Our more
fundamentalist brothers and sisters call that being born again, and in a
sense it is – for such a recognition, whether once or a dozen times in our
lives, is what makes us realize anew that the door is always open; we can
always go home to be embraced once more in the Father’s arms.
For the Father welcomed the prodigal with open arms and
the same generosity that marked their relationship before he left. There
was no way that the Father owed the prodigal anything, and yet he gave him a
warm welcome, and an abundance of gifts, including a ring and a feast.
There was no blame; there were no recriminations, no deep sighs or
despairing of what a foolish, careless son he had been – only a warm embrace
and a joyous welcome. The one who was lost has been found and that’s all
that matters.
And notice, finally, the Father’s eager reaching out.
The Father doesn’t sit on the porch and simply wait for the prodigal to make
his slow, painful return – instead the father sees him coming a long way off
and runs out to meet him. One version of the parable I’ve read described
the father as so excited to see his beloved son again that he ran outside
with mismatched shoes on his feet. God makes the effort – God reaches out
to us, and when we are still a long way off, runs out to meet us and welcome
us home. God stands ready, watching and waiting, to begin his joyous
journey towards us.
Notice too, that the Father comes out to the elder son
as well – the son who refuses to come in because he is so angry. God
reaches out not only to those who are willingly coming home, but also to
those who feel ill used, the ones who are envious of another’s blessings and
jealous of another’s joy. Even to the angry ones, God comes out, offering
not recriminations or blame, but reassurance and inclusion. God may not be
fond of it, but God is accepting of our anger and knows that sometimes we
are envious, or jealous or hurt.
Somehow we don’t seem to understand the sheer abundance
of God’s love and God’s generosity. We seem to think that because someone
else appears to have more, we must necessarily have less. That may be the
case with the usual sibling rivalry over toys, treats or other limited
quantities like parental attention but it is not true about God’s love. Of
God’s love there is only more and more and more for all of us.
Whether a prodigal, an elder brother or something in
between, Jesus tells us this wonderful story that we may know again that our
heavenly Father’s love for us abides forever, wherever we go, whatever we
do, how far we wander or how foolish we’ve been. Like the prodigal and like
the elder brother, we can always come home to the Father’s loving embrace
and his gracious generosity. Contrary to Thomas Wolfe, you can home again.
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