THE WORD 4 ev 1

Read Luke 15 (click here for link to text).

There is something funny that has happened to the three accounts found here in Luke 15—the parable of the lost sheep; the widow’s lost coins; and the prodigal son. Each of them are beautiful tales of grace and redemption in their own right, but for some reason the shock and awe have worn off, at least, it can seem that way sometimes. Too often I hear the words, “There was a man with two sons…” and immediately I know where the story is going. Or how often have you heard someone refer to “leaving the 99 to go and find the 1 lost sheep” to reinforce a point about evangelism or some other ministry work?

We know these stories perhaps too well. As a result, I think it is easy to miss the point. Thomas Long, a great teacher of homiletics and preaching, put it this way:

“Maybe it’s just my imagination, but has the parable of the prodigal son become something of a bore lately? I know, I know, this is one of the most beautiful stories of grace in the Bible. And yes, I know this is a powerful archetype of human redemption. And yes, this parable presents a picture of divine acceptance so radical and sweeping that it has sometimes generated astonishment and provoked sputtering outrage.

But the shock value has worn off. Just say the opening line, "There was a man who had two sons," and we know where this one is going. The story has all the bland predictability of a biblical theme park. The awful, relationship-shattering words, "Give me my share of the inheritance," leave us unruffled because we can already hear the musicians tuning up for the joyful dance jig at the end. We are untroubled by the son’s anguished lament, "I am no longer worthy to be called your son," because the aroma of fatted calf roasting on the spit wafts over the narrative, and covers up the fetid stench of the pigsty. Fear not; the boy is coming home. He always does. The road back from the far country is paved and well lit, and we have traveled it many times.

But the power brownout in the prodigal son story is not just the result of over familiarity. Countless repetitions have transformed what was once a parable with trap doors and mysterious and unexpected depths into an Aesop’s fable, an anecdote with a prosaic moral tag. Instead of knocking our socks off with the surprise of the father improbably hiking up his skirts and dashing down the road shouting for joy and calling for "A robe! A ring! And sandals!," the story coos a little cultural wisdom in our ear: "Hey, no matter how badly you have messed up life, pick yourself up. A ready supply of forgiveness is waiting, and you can start over where you left off." The prodigal son becomes the "Comeback Player of the Year," and, as Hartford Courant columnist Jeff Rivers notes, "Everybody comes back. Mary Albert came back. Hugh Grant came back. Mike Tyson came back, Marion Barry came back. . . . It’s a forgiving culture."

"…When we treat the prodigal son as a comeback story, we miss the point. When we say, "Head home, God’s feast is waiting!" we misunderstand. It is not our remorse that forces God to set the banquet table; it is not our deep desire to start over again that leads God to roast the fatted calf. We cannot throw our own party. By all rights, this story ought to end with the younger son sweating in the furrows, eating in the slave quarters and spending his days serving his older brother. So if we prodigals see the father running in our direction with open arms, we should know in our souls that this as an event so unexpected, so undeserved, so out of joint with all that life should bring us, that we fall down in awe before this joyful mystery." (“Surprise Party.” The Christian Century, March 14, 2001, p. 10.)

Yes, we are beggars! All of us!

These parables remind me of when my children disobey the rules Pam and I work so hard to impress upon them. Even though we both understand the need to establish discipline in the lives our children especially when they are young, it just sometimes seems futile, because both of them are under 3 years in age and too young to know much about “remorse” or “repentance” or “apology.” However, even more importantly, we always forgive, love , and encourage them. God loves you and me the same way. The only difference is that we, unlike little children, are perfectly aware of just how unholy we are before God.

We each go through those “dry” spells, where we feel like there is a great distance between us and our Lord and we can’t even imagine how to get back. But our Lord always finds a way for us. He seeks us out in the dry places and returns us to our proper place as his children. And why does he do it? Why does he care so much for people who take Him for granted and wander so frequently? Well… He just does. There is no satisfying answer to that question. He just does! He loves us enough to die for us, and he did!

May the truth of His eternal love bless your day,
Pastor Aaron