Sermon on the Parable of Prodigal Son
Lent 4 – March 27, 2022
Anyone with a sibling, anyone parent with more than one child, anyone whose parents had brothers or sister may, have, at some point in their lives been, or have known a prodigal son or daughter. Perhaps it was at a wedding or a funeral when a sibling shows up who had been thought lost or estranged from the family. Significant family occasions often have the potential for drama creating a mystery around when, and if, the prodigal child might choose to return. In hospitals and nursing homes, complicated reunions often take place. A resident of a nursing home whom I came to know very well over my time as a chaplain at her facility talked often of her two sons, but only one visited her, the other was lost to her, and she mourned their severed relationship every day of her life. Unlike some of Jesus’ parables, which are more obtuse in their meaning, today’s Gospel goes to the heart of what goes on in most families – grown up children who don’t always turn out like they were expected to by their parents, and the rest of their family.
In the reading, the son is called “prodigal” because he has been wasteful and extravagant with his father’s money. Prodigal means rashly or extravagantly wasteful. The father’s youngest son had asked for his share of the estate early, which in Jesus’ day was a supreme insult, like wishing his father dead and then abandoning his own community. As he went off to squander his father’s money in dissolute living, the elder brother of the family was the obedient one, working like a slave, he says, for his father. But, when the younger brother returns home, broke and hoping for a job taking care of the pigs, his father is overjoyed to see him, kisses him, dresses him in fine clothing and jewelry, and proceeds to have a party with music, dancing and the meat of the fatted calf, to celebrate his homecoming. Upon hearing the music and discovering what the party is about, the elder brother is indignant and says that despite his own faithfulness to his father he has never received such bounty. But the father says to him: “Son, you are always with me and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.” Here the theme of finding something that has been lost echoes the stories that preceded this parable in Luke, the story of the lost coin, and the story of the lost sheep. We read this in Lent to reflect on the ways we may be one or more of the people in this story of the father and his two sons.
Having a lost child is a terrifying experience for any parent no matter the age of the child. Thinking that your child might be dead and then finding out that he or she is alive would surely make one so happy that, at least temporarily, you would want to celebrate with a party. It is the unconditional love shown here for the son that Jesus holds up to us, and to the Pharisees and scribes, who were grumbling about Jesus allowing tax collectors and sinners to sit near and eat with him. For with Christ Jesus, and with his sacrifice of his own life, we are shown that no matter what we may have done, our sins will be forgiven. Grace is always available. As St. Paul says in his second letter to the Corinthians 5:17: “If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!” In families it is not unusual for money to be the cause of acrimony and estrangement. Often this becomes pronounced when the estate is divided up among the remaining relatives, but not infrequently this may happen before, when a brother or a sister seems to get more from his or her parents than the other siblings. Because they might have greater needs, perhaps because of their greater weaknesses, such siblings might get more attention, more assistance, or more money.
Sometimes it is the case that the good, hardworking child, like the elder brother of the story, might be put off by the injustice, the unfairness of it all, and before you know it, the family is split apart, the siblings not communicating with each, and the parents playing referee. And, for many of us, who might be more like the elder brother, than the other two figures in the story, this parable might be difficult to hear. It might be like the parable of the laborers of the field where those working for an hour at the end of the day got paid the same as those who worked all day. Unfair, becomes the cry of elder son to parent – at the minimum we should be treated the same – and, we should be rewarded for doing something responsible, not the opposite. Is there any comfort in this story for the elder brother, who is clearly the one most put off by what happened? We hope in time that he is comforted by the possibility that his brother has, in fact, changed, become new, and by the promise of a renewed relationship with him, not to mention, some help on the farm. We hope that the elder brother is heartened by his father’s joy at his brother’s return, and how his fears have allayed. But most of all, we hope that he, and all of us are enlightened by the story that symbolizes the unconditional love and true forgiveness of God which is possible for him, and for us when we slip up, when we fail, (which we will), and when we act out of our imperfect human nature. For there will be times in all of our lives when we are the prodigal son, times when we are the elder brother, and times when we are given the opportunity to show forgiveness like the father. In this contemplative season of Lent, we are given the opportunity to reflect on where we are, and where we would like to be, in our lives, in our relationships with others, and with God.
In some countries including the United Kingdom, today, the fourth Sunday in Lent is “Mothering Sunday.” Celebrated since the 16th Century as a day to return to one’s mother church – which meant for most – a day to return home to visit one’s family, to visit one’s mother. And at the time this tradition began, many of the workers and servants who returned home on that day were, in fact, children. They had left their families to seek employment at a very young age. Unlike our fixed U.S. Mother’s day celebrated the second Sunday in May, Mothering Sunday or the UK’s Mother’s Day is linked to the Easter/Lent calendar and the exact Sunday will change each year.
And as for the mother at the nursing home with the one missing son, I am happy and sad to tell you that they did reunite, but it was as she lay dying, with the chaplain facilitating the reunion. It meant more to her than anything else that she saw him and that they both were able to express their regrets at their time apart. She was so relieved that he came that it felt like a miracle. I admit I was shocked to learn that he lived nearby, and could have come at any time. Her funeral was a wonderful celebration of her life, and both of her sons played a significant role in making it glorious. But I wished, I wished the return of her son could have happened sooner, allowing their relationship to be what both of them might have been dreaming about for many years.
May the unconditional love of God, shown, in the father’s love for his son, be our inspiration to model it in our human relationships, too. And may the Grace of God allow you to live out your lives feeling God’s love, and knowing, that no matter how lost you might feel, God will always find you, love you, and bring you home. Amen.