Sermon – Welcome Home! Rev. Sandy Lacey March 30, 2025
This is one Scripture passage that is so familiar that it has been incorporated into our cultural vernacular – “the prodigal son/daughter has returned,” we say when a family member or an old friend returns home after a long absence. The problem with well-known pieces of Scripture is that we think we have learned everything we need to know from them. We know that it is about a son who demands his inheritance from his father, then leaves and spends that inheritance money on things that do not last. When the money is all gone, he finds himself in a pickle (as in no money, no place to live, and no food to eat.) He becomes desperate enough that he decides to return home and ask his father for a hired position in his father’s household. And his father sees him from afar and runs to his son, welcomes him back home, puts a robe, sandals, and ring on him; and throws a party. That is what most of us remember from the story. Not all of us remember about the other son who remained at home and wasn’t too thrilled with celebrating his brother’s return. Not all of us remember that the story starts with, “a man had two sons . . .” Not all of us remember that it is the third in a list of “lost” stories that Jesus tells in this Gospel – the lost sheep, the lost coin, the lost son. And further, not all of us remember the set-up to this passage – the Pharisees and Scribes were grumbling about Jesus welcoming sinners and eating with them. Let’s take a moment and remember the fundamental characteristic of parables in Scripture. The parables are rarely neat with clear-cut answers to questions. We often do not know who the good guys and bad guys are in parables. The parables often dislocate us and make us feel off balance somehow. We are often left with more questions than answers in Jesus’ parables. In this story, for example, who is the one who is “lost?” Is it the one who presumptively demanded his inheritance from his still living father and then spent it all on (what we assume to be) immoral and wicked things. Or is the “lost” one the older brother who did all the “right” things, but was resentful in his heart and unwelcoming to his younger brother when he returned home? Who is truly lost in this story? And what kind of father is this who would so easily forgive a son who shamed him and considered him (as good as) dead? And what kind of father forgets to count the other son in the field and who neglected to tell him the good news? Why didn’t he run to the older son and invite him to the party? As usual for Jesus’ parables, there are more questions than answers. So, let’s think about the younger son. It was not unheard of, but it was rare, for a son to demand his inheritance from his father. And the inheritance was land, so the father had to sell the appropriate amount of land in order to give him the money. The younger son in that culture would not have inherited the same amount as his older brother. The older son would receive the majority of his father’s land. Other than the rare circumstance of a son demanding his inheritance before his father’s death, the other remarkable thing is that it was shameful to make this request. It brought shame to the family. This was a shame-based culture and people would do just about anything to avoid the shame of humiliation by family members. We do not know what the son did with the money, only the description that he spent it all on “dissolute living.” The brother says that he spent it on prostitutes, but that could have been his anger talking. All we know is that he spent it all and then was forced to do a very unpleasant thing for a Jew – feed unclean animals. I love the description of his change of plans – he “came to himself.” He remembered who he was. He remembered his identity. He realized there was a profound discontinuity between who he had become and who he was. That is a profound moment in any of our lives when we realize we are no longer the person God created us to be. So, the younger son hatched a plan to beg for his father’s mercy and return home. He was lost and wanted to be found. Not all of us are fortunate to have a place to return to when we are lost without direction or hope. There are many in our world who are homeless, trying to find a way, trying to scrape together a plan that will both feed and house them. There was an article in the paper a couple of years ago about a homeless woman testifying at the county commission meeting, saying the housing market is so expensive in this area and that she finds it difficult to afford a place to live, even with two jobs. But even worse than her plight (and others like her in our country), there is the plight of refugees or those who live in countries ravaged by war. They have no home, perhaps no country, and very little recourse to feed themselves and their family. Today, the Ukrainian and Palestinian examples are horrible ones with no easy answers. I pray our leaders will work to help find solutions that will bring an end to the wars and allow people to return home and rebuild their lives. And friends, if we just sit back, shake our heads, and do nothing, then I cannot help but wonder who the lost person is in our story. There were lots of “lost” people in Jesus’ day: widows, orphans, prostitutes, poor people, and even tax collectors. Even though the tax collectors were Jewish, they were considered to be sinners because they collected taxes for the Romans. They not only collected taxes for the occupiers, they also overcharged their countrymen so that they could “line their own pockets” in the process. For Jesus to hang out with these people, and even worse, to share meals with them, was scandalous. And who knows who the other sinners were that the Pharisees and Scribes were complaining about in verses 1 & 2 of the passage. Fortunately, one of those tax collectors, Matthew, “came to himself,” remembered his identity, and chose to live as a follower of Jesus. As we consider again the question of who the “lost” one might be, let’s consider the older son – the son who stayed. The son who did everything right, who listened to his father, who worked the land, who went to church, who became a deacon and an elder, who knew the rules of his faith – that son, the “good” son. In his “goodness,” he had written off his younger brother when he did the unspeakable thing of demanding his inheritance. He was righteously indignant at the injustice his brother inflicted upon their father. He was doing his part to be the upstanding citizen he knew he was supposed to be. He was all about earning his father’s love and trust. When his younger brother penitently returned, his heart would not allow him to display mercy. He could not even imagine a party to welcome him home. If it were up to him, he would turn the little pipsqueak out. That is the only thing his younger brother earned. The resentment he feels toward his brother is almost understandable. But the resentment he feels toward his father is something different. It is not fair that his brother is treated with mercy. It is not fair that his father has not thrown a single party for him even though he has done so much for his father! It is not fair! It is not fair! He is the poster child for what Michael Yaconelli says, “nothing makes church people more angry than grace.”[1] The father does not throw him into outer darkness for his resentment; instead, he gently chastises him – “I do not understand your approach and attitude. All that I have is yours and I have always been at your side, always grateful for you. Why are you more concerned about yourself than you are about your brother who has finally found his way home?” Amidst the grumbling by the religious leaders in today’s passage, Jesus decides to tell some stories about lost causes. The first two stories are set-ups for the last story. A lost sheep and a lost coin story in which the one who has lost them searches high and low and then celebrates when finding them – they are good stories. They might raise a few eyebrows at the intensity of the person searching and the parties afterwards; but nevertheless, they are good stories. In the Parable of the Prodigal Son, or as some call it, the Parable of the Lost Son, or the Parable of the Loving Father; it is a different kind of story that is meant to unsettle us. What kind of father welcomes home a son who has shamed him this way? What kind of father in that culture would ever humiliate himself in such a way as running to meet the wayward son? It is not likely to happen in that culture. And I imagine when the first listeners heard this story, they were shocked. But we are not shocked when we hear this story. We have heard it many times and its familiarity has caused us to forget just how shocking a story it is. We serve a God who welcomes sinners home and who throws parties in their honor. We serve a God who runs to meet those who are lost and who chastises the rest of us who think we have somehow earned God’s favor and love. Jesus is continually reminding us that the people God honors, the people God is especially concerned about, are often those for whom we would rather ignore or at least shake our heads. And if we are not careful, we may even fall into the trap of thinking we are somehow better and more loved than them. For me, this passage is a mixture; I appreciate the traditional way of interpreting it in terms of the emphasis on repentance and forgiveness. I also appreciate the more provocative interpretations of considering who is lost in the story, and the wondering question of who God counts.[2] Either way, I think the parables talk about the extravagant grace of God, a God who does not wait, but runs to you with open arms, and a God who compassionately chides you into remembering who you are and to whom you belong. God will not cooperate with our preconceived notions about what is fair; instead, God will always be on the side of grace and inclusion. That is good news for us and for all lost causes. AMEN.
[1] Michael Yaconnelli, Messy Spirituality: God’s Annoying Love for Imperfect People. (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Press, 2002.) p. 47. 2 Amy -Jill Levine and Sandy Eisenberg Sasso, Who Counts? 100 Sheep, 10 Coins, and 2 Sons. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2017.)
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[1] Michael Yaconnelli, Messy Spirituality: God’s Annoying Love for Imperfect People. (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Press, 2002.) p. 47. [2] Amy -Jill Levine and Sandy Eisenberg Sasso, Who Counts? 100 Sheep, 10 Coins, and 2 Sons. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2017.)
This is one Scripture passage that is so familiar that it has been incorporated into our cultural vernacular – “the prodigal son/daughter has returned,” we say when a family member or an old friend returns home after a long absence. The problem with well-known pieces of Scripture is that we think we have learned everything we need to know from them. We know that it is about a son who demands his inheritance from his father, then leaves and spends that inheritance money on things that do not last. When the money is all gone, he finds himself in a pickle (as in no money, no place to live, and no food to eat.) He becomes desperate enough that he decides to return home and ask his father for a hired position in his father’s household. And his father sees him from afar and runs to his son, welcomes him back home, puts a robe, sandals, and ring on him; and throws a party. That is what most of us remember from the story. Not all of us remember about the other son who remained at home and wasn’t too thrilled with celebrating his brother’s return. Not all of us remember that the story starts with, “a man had two sons . . .” Not all of us remember that it is the third in a list of “lost” stories that Jesus tells in this Gospel – the lost sheep, the lost coin, the lost son. And further, not all of us remember the set-up to this passage – the Pharisees and Scribes were grumbling about Jesus welcoming sinners and eating with them. Let’s take a moment and remember the fundamental characteristic of parables in Scripture. The parables are rarely neat with clear-cut answers to questions. We often do not know who the good guys and bad guys are in parables. The parables often dislocate us and make us feel off balance somehow. We are often left with more questions than answers in Jesus’ parables. In this story, for example, who is the one who is “lost?” Is it the one who presumptively demanded his inheritance from his still living father and then spent it all on (what we assume to be) immoral and wicked things. Or is the “lost” one the older brother who did all the “right” things, but was resentful in his heart and unwelcoming to his younger brother when he returned home? Who is truly lost in this story? And what kind of father is this who would so easily forgive a son who shamed him and considered him (as good as) dead? And what kind of father forgets to count the other son in the field and who neglected to tell him the good news? Why didn’t he run to the older son and invite him to the party? As usual for Jesus’ parables, there are more questions than answers. So, let’s think about the younger son. It was not unheard of, but it was rare, for a son to demand his inheritance from his father. And the inheritance was land, so the father had to sell the appropriate amount of land in order to give him the money. The younger son in that culture would not have inherited the same amount as his older brother. The older son would receive the majority of his father’s land. Other than the rare circumstance of a son demanding his inheritance before his father’s death, the other remarkable thing is that it was shameful to make this request. It brought shame to the family. This was a shame-based culture and people would do just about anything to avoid the shame of humiliation by family members. We do not know what the son did with the money, only the description that he spent it all on “dissolute living.” The brother says that he spent it on prostitutes, but that could have been his anger talking. All we know is that he spent it all and then was forced to do a very unpleasant thing for a Jew – feed unclean animals. I love the description of his change of plans – he “came to himself.” He remembered who he was. He remembered his identity. He realized there was a profound discontinuity between who he had become and who he was. That is a profound moment in any of our lives when we realize we are no longer the person God created us to be. So, the younger son hatched a plan to beg for his father’s mercy and return home. He was lost and wanted to be found. Not all of us are fortunate to have a place to return to when we are lost without direction or hope. There are many in our world who are homeless, trying to find a way, trying to scrape together a plan that will both feed and house them. There was an article in the paper a couple of years ago about a homeless woman testifying at the county commission meeting, saying the housing market is so expensive in this area and that she finds it difficult to afford a place to live, even with two jobs. But even worse than her plight (and others like her in our country), there is the plight of refugees or those who live in countries ravaged by war. They have no home, perhaps no country, and very little recourse to feed themselves and their family. Today, the Ukrainian and Palestinian examples are horrible ones with no easy answers. I pray our leaders will work to help find solutions that will bring an end to the wars and allow people to return home and rebuild their lives. And friends, if we just sit back, shake our heads, and do nothing, then I cannot help but wonder who the lost person is in our story. There were lots of “lost” people in Jesus’ day: widows, orphans, prostitutes, poor people, and even tax collectors. Even though the tax collectors were Jewish, they were considered to be sinners because they collected taxes for the Romans. They not only collected taxes for the occupiers, they also overcharged their countrymen so that they could “line their own pockets” in the process. For Jesus to hang out with these people, and even worse, to share meals with them, was scandalous. And who knows who the other sinners were that the Pharisees and Scribes were complaining about in verses 1 & 2 of the passage. Fortunately, one of those tax collectors, Matthew, “came to himself,” remembered his identity, and chose to live as a follower of Jesus. As we consider again the question of who the “lost” one might be, let’s consider the older son – the son who stayed. The son who did everything right, who listened to his father, who worked the land, who went to church, who became a deacon and an elder, who knew the rules of his faith – that son, the “good” son. In his “goodness,” he had written off his younger brother when he did the unspeakable thing of demanding his inheritance. He was righteously indignant at the injustice his brother inflicted upon their father. He was doing his part to be the upstanding citizen he knew he was supposed to be. He was all about earning his father’s love and trust. When his younger brother penitently returned, his heart would not allow him to display mercy. He could not even imagine a party to welcome him home. If it were up to him, he would turn the little pipsqueak out. That is the only thing his younger brother earned. The resentment he feels toward his brother is almost understandable. But the resentment he feels toward his father is something different. It is not fair that his brother is treated with mercy. It is not fair that his father has not thrown a single party for him even though he has done so much for his father! It is not fair! It is not fair! He is the poster child for what Michael Yaconelli says, “nothing makes church people more angry than grace.”[1] The father does not throw him into outer darkness for his resentment; instead, he gently chastises him – “I do not understand your approach and attitude. All that I have is yours and I have always been at your side, always grateful for you. Why are you more concerned about yourself than you are about your brother who has finally found his way home?” Amidst the grumbling by the religious leaders in today’s passage, Jesus decides to tell some stories about lost causes. The first two stories are set-ups for the last story. A lost sheep and a lost coin story in which the one who has lost them searches high and low and then celebrates when finding them – they are good stories. They might raise a few eyebrows at the intensity of the person searching and the parties afterwards; but nevertheless, they are good stories. In the Parable of the Prodigal Son, or as some call it, the Parable of the Lost Son, or the Parable of the Loving Father; it is a different kind of story that is meant to unsettle us. What kind of father welcomes home a son who has shamed him this way? What kind of father in that culture would ever humiliate himself in such a way as running to meet the wayward son? It is not likely to happen in that culture. And I imagine when the first listeners heard this story, they were shocked. But we are not shocked when we hear this story. We have heard it many times and its familiarity has caused us to forget just how shocking a story it is. We serve a God who welcomes sinners home and who throws parties in their honor. We serve a God who runs to meet those who are lost and who chastises the rest of us who think we have somehow earned God’s favor and love. Jesus is continually reminding us that the people God honors, the people God is especially concerned about, are often those for whom we would rather ignore or at least shake our heads. And if we are not careful, we may even fall into the trap of thinking we are somehow better and more loved than them. For me, this passage is a mixture; I appreciate the traditional way of interpreting it in terms of the emphasis on repentance and forgiveness. I also appreciate the more provocative interpretations of considering who is lost in the story, and the wondering question of who God counts.[2] Either way, I think the parables talk about the extravagant grace of God, a God who does not wait, but runs to you with open arms, and a God who compassionately chides you into remembering who you are and to whom you belong. God will not cooperate with our preconceived notions about what is fair; instead, God will always be on the side of grace and inclusion. That is good news for us and for all lost causes. AMEN.
[1] Michael Yaconnelli, Messy Spirituality: God’s Annoying Love for Imperfect People. (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Press, 2002.) p. 47. 2 Amy -Jill Levine and Sandy Eisenberg Sasso, Who Counts? 100 Sheep, 10 Coins, and 2 Sons. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2017.)
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[1] Michael Yaconnelli, Messy Spirituality: God’s Annoying Love for Imperfect People. (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Press, 2002.) p. 47. [2] Amy -Jill Levine and Sandy Eisenberg Sasso, Who Counts? 100 Sheep, 10 Coins, and 2 Sons. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2017.)