Intro to Scripture Reading:

Today we complete a three-part series studying the Parable of the Prodigal Son as told by Jesus. Two weeks ago, Pastor Jan introduced us to the older son. Last week, we focused on the most familiar character, the younger son. Today, we focus on father himself. Our Scripture lesson picks up just as the younger son returns home in shame after having squandered his inheritance. We’ll look at the father’s response both to the younger son and to the older son. Hear the word of the Lord from Luke 15:20-32…

I. Introduction

What is God really like?

Some people think the important question is, “Do you believe in God?” But there are a lot of people who say they believe in God, or in some kind of higher power. In fact, a 2004 poll found that 92% of Americans say they believe in God.ⁱ

The real question in today’s pluralistic world is not so much, “Do you believe in God,” but, “What kind of God do you believe in?” Or more importantly, “What is God really like?” The kind of God a person believes in may or may not measure up to the objective reality.

With VBS this past week, it’s always enlightening to see children’s perceptions of what God is like: In the book, Children’s Letters to God, Craig, a 9-year-old, wrote: “Dear God, I see you in my dreams all the time. I know it is you because you have a crown on and you are always fishing.”

Or young Nan, who wrote, “Dear God, I bet it is very hard for You to love all of everybody in the whole world. There are only 4 people in our family and I can never do it.”ⁱⁱ

From early on, we develop notions about who God is, such as God loves everyone, or God wears a crown and likes to fish a lot. Sometimes our notions may be close to the truth, at other times not.

How can we sort through our subjective, often mistaken beliefs about God and find out what God is really like? It’s really not so hard, because God wants us to learn about him. God has already revealed himself to people in different ways, but the most important is this:

Jesus said in John 14:6, “If you know me, you will also know my Father.” In other words, if we want to understand who God is and what God is like, we ought to pay attention to the words, actions, and life of Jesus Christ as found in the Bible.

In Luke 15, Jesus shares three beautiful stories that paint a portrait of the character and nature of God. First we learn how the owner of one hundred sheep went out of his way to seek out the one sheep that was lost. Then we hear about the woman who lost a coin turning over everything in the house to find that one lost coin. And these past few weeks we’ve been studying the parable of the prodigal son.

But the eastern Orthodox and Russian churches refer to it by a different name. They call it “The Parable of the Father’s Love.” In many ways I think they’ve got it right.

Ultimately, the central figure in this story is not the younger son, who wandered away, nor the older son, who stayed at home, but the Father who loved them both. Beyond the prodigal waste of the younger, and the prodigal whine of the older, we discover the prodigal love of the Father.

Normally, we think of the word prodigal as meaning lost or rebellious. But as one of our choir members mentioned last week, that’s not really what prodigal means. The first definition of “prodigal,” according to Webster, is “recklessly extravagant.” The recklessly extravagant rebellion of the younger son is more than matched by the recklessly extravagant love and joy of the Father. Here we begin to see a picture of a recklessly extravagant God.

So if this is really a parable about the father, why do we still refer to this passage as the Parable of the Prodigal Son? I think it’s because we so easily identify with one of the two brothers.

II. The younger son

Some of us can identify with the younger son, who rejected his father and his family, took his inheritance, set off to a distant country, and squandered all he had. After losing it all, he is driven by hunger and remorse back to his father’s house. Now, by every cultural expectation, this son should not have been forgiven or welcomed back in by his father because of the way he had rejected and humiliated his family when he left. And yet, as the wayward young man returns home, the father runs down the road to meet him. The father embraces him, clothes him with the finest robe in the house, and throws a great celebration for this son who was lost, but has been found.

We tend to identify first with the younger son. For some it’s because we also went through a rebellious period in life. But in some way we’re all prodigals, whenever we insist on trying to live life on our own, by our own rules, apart from a relationship with God; whenever we take the life and gifts God has given us and spend them away instead of using them for God’s purposes. We’re all prodigals.

The younger son’s journey teaches that no matter how far, in what way , or for how long you’ve wandered from God, God longs to welcome you home again as a son, as a daughter. As we return to God, through faith in Jesus Christ, God forgives our sins, forgives our rebellion, and restores us in a joyful relationship with himself.

Through the younger son, we learn about God’s recklessly extravagant grace. But what about the older son? What have we learned from him?

III. The older son

How many of you were the oldest child in your family, growing up? If so, maybe you can identify with the older brother in this parable. He was the responsible one. He has been faithfully working away on the family farm. He’s the good kid. He’s probably a respectable, decent, clean-cut sort of guy. Yet by the end of the parable, the younger son is inside enjoying a big party with his family and friends, while the older son is still standing outside in the cold.

So what’s the problem with the older son?

As Pastor Jan pointed out two weeks ago, the older son, the one who stayed behind, was no less lost than his younger brother. The real problem with the older son is his attitude. He works hard, stays out of trouble, does a lot of the right things—but what looks so good on the outside turns out to be only skin deep. Beneath the surface there is a resentful, bitter person who is unable to share in the joy of his father’s house. All he can do is compare himself to his brother and pout that he is more deserving, instead of rejoicing in the generosity of his father’s love.

Remember that the older brother didn’t get ripped off in this story. When the property was divided, the older son got 2/3 of the property, and the younger son only got 1/3.

Yet living in splendor, all the gifts of his father at his disposal, still he feels like a slave.

So close to grace, beloved of his father, yet he feels he must work to earn that love.

Outwardly residing at home, but inwardly, his heart is alienated and distant from the joyful, gracious heart of his father.

Though it’s easier to identify with the younger son, if I’m honest, there’s a lot of the older son in me, too. I wonder which does more damage: The lust of the younger son, or the lingering resentment of the older?

We don’t know if the older son finally admits his own need for forgiveness and repents, any more than we know how the younger son lived after his return. What we do know with unwavering certainty is the heart of the father. It is a heart of limitless mercy. It is a heart of amazing love. It is the heart of a God who rejoices when one of his lost sons or daughters returns home.

IV. The Father

This is where I want to shift the spotlight from the two boys to dear old Dad—the father who hands over his estate early to his kids without a complaint, the father who receives the younger son back with no questions asked with open arms, and the father who pleads with the bitter older son to come in from the cold and join the celebration. To us the father’s unquestioning, unconditional love given to the son seems extravagant, almost irresponsible.

Barely does the younger son begin his speech of contrition on his way home before Dad’s working on the guest list and the menu for the welcome-home celebration.

As he welcomes the son with overwhelming, unexpected, undeserved forgiveness, the word that most describes the father’s heart to me is “joy.” His joy is so exuberant that he throws a big party. He wants everybody to be there. What is this telling us about what God is like?

Now most of us are not used to the image of God throwing a big party. It seems to contradict the solemnity and seriousness which we associate with God. But when I think of the ways in which Jesus’ describes God’s Kingdom, a joyful banquet is often at its center. Jesus says, “Many will come from east and west and sit down at the feast in the Kingdom of Heaven.” At the close of the New Testament, in Revelation, God’s ultimate victory is described as a splendid wedding feast, a party, a celebration at which thousands upon thousands will rejoice together!

“Rejoice with me,” the shepherd says, “I have found my sheep that was lost.”

“Rejoice with me,” the woman says, “I have found the coin I lost.” “Rejoice with me,” the father says, “This son of mine was lost and is found.”

What is God really like?

Not only do we learn from this parable that God welcomes his wandering children home; not only do we learn that God is wildly extravagant in his love and forgiveness; but we learn that God rejoices! Not because the problems of the world have been solved, not because all human pain and suffering have come to an end. No, God rejoices because one of his children who was lost has been found. God rejoices when one of his children returns home; and God does not want to keep his joy to himself; He wants everyone to share in it. That’s what God is like!

Do you know the joy of the Lord? God wants you to have his joy in your life. Paul wrote to the Philippians, “Rejoice in the Lord, always.”

We’re not talking about naïve joy. When Jesus speaks about the world, he is very realistic. He speaks about wars and revolutions, earthquakes, plagues and famines, persecution, betrayal, and hatred. There is no suggestion that those things will go away anytime soon. But the promise is that God’s joy can be ours in the midst of it all. Henri Nouwen writes, “People who have come to know the joy of God do not deny the darkness, but they choose not to live in it.”ⁱⁱⁱ

V. Conclusion

This parable of the father and the two sons teaches us a great deal about what God is like: in the father we discover God’s compassion, God’s love, God’s joy. But here’s the real twist: Whichever of the two sons we most readily identify with, we are ultimately called to become more like the father. Do you just want to be the one who is forgiven or are you willing also to be the one who forgives?

Just the one who is welcomed home, or the one who welcomes?

Just the one who receives compassion, or also the one who offers it?

Just the one for whom the party is thrown, or also the one who throws the party so that others may also experience the joy?

Yes, this parable teaches us about what God is like, but ultimately it calls us to become more like God. It’s a call to grow into spiritual maturity; To forgive, when forgiveness isn’t deserved; To open our arms to those all around us who are hopeless, hurting, and estranged from God; To love with the reckless extravagance of the father who delights when one of his sons or daughters returns home, through faith in Jesus Christ.

Amen.

ⁱFox News Poll, cited 6/18/2004, http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,99945,00.html
ⁱⁱ Stuart Hample and Eric Marshall, Children’s Letters to God, New York: Workman Publishing, 1991.

ⁱⁱⁱ Henri Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son, New York: Doubleday, 1992, pp. 117-118.