Lost Sons

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

 “Lost Sons”

06 March 2106 St. Andrew’s Military Chapel Singapore

Parables are always dangerous to read. We easily find ourselves in the story as one of the characters. This pulls us deeper into the fabric of the story. As we become more and more interested in the story because of our connection with one of the characters, we begin to get a bit nervous. Because, those of us who know Christ’s method of telling stories are anxious about the impending plot twist. And this parable doesn’t disappoint in the twist department.

The first twist comes with the return of the lost son. When he decided to leave, the younger son, in a fit of jealousy, immaturity, ignorance, a combination of them all, tells his father to just die. Not in those exact words, but by asking for his share of the inheritance he has told the father he’d rather see dear ole dad in the grave. The father grants the request and the son heads off into the sunset.

For a long time, the son is living the life. He settled in Vegas and is enjoying all sin city has to offer a young, wealthy, single, rebellious young adult. The young son is living it up without a care in the world. Then the money runs out. He hits proverbial rock bottom. He realizes that his father’s servants (whom he probably ridiculed growing up) have a better life. He has one option left to live, go home. So, after years of partying and not caring about anything, including himself, he comes to his senses, and with that comes deep regret and remorse for what he has sown.

He’s got the apology all worked out and is ready to take his lumps and become a hired hand to the father he disowned many years ago. However, his father rushes out to greet his son and throws the party of the year. Whaaat? Would we welcome a strung out or alcoholic child who told us to die on their way out the door back in that manner? Without ever asking: Where have you been all this time? How are you doing? Why are you back?

As if that plot twist wasn’t enough for the audience, the second son, who we’ve totally forgotten by now, re-enters the story. And he is none too happy at dear ole dad for spending money on and treating the one who disowned the family with such love and respect. I’m sure the crowd is nodding their heads in agreement with the older son. The annoying little brother didn’t want to be a part of the family, so let him keep on walking and figure it out on his own.

But, the father looks at his eldest, probably with sad eyes, and says, “You have everything I own. What more do you want? Your brother was lost and now he is back, we have to rejoice at this miracle. Haven’t I taught you anything?” Plot twist #2, disappointment at the judgmental older son. Perhaps this should be known as the parable of the lost sons.

Sometimes we are the younger son, struggling to find our way or in the midst of making bad decisions for ourselves without regard to consequences. Sometimes we are lost without anyone beside us by our own choice. Sometimes we find ourselves at the end of our rope and are desperately looking for a place to turn. Sometimes we are lost and alone, and that can be worse than death. If you relate more with the younger son, the church is called to be here for you, to welcome you with open arms. Here you will find rest. And grace.

Many times, however, we find ourselves in the role of the older brother. One of my seminary professors, Richard Lischer has written, “The elder son is the Pharisee and the scribe, not only miffed by outraged and threatened by what they see being done to their religion. The elder son is the Good Christian from the Bible belt, or the liberal Episcopalian, Presbyterian, or Lutheran, who is baffled and not a little irritated by the rising authority of churches in the Global South. The elder son shakes his head at his own congregation’s embrace of people he has always disapproved of. The elder son is the church-going deacon who believes that because he has never been to a literal far country, he has never been lost. The elder son is any believer whose prosaic goodness has never been turned to poetry in a public celebration. The elder son is the best of us at our very worst.” If you are the elder son, the church is called to be here for you, to welcome you with open arms. Here you will find forgiveness. And grace.

If you ask random people on the street which character reflects the church in America, you’d probably hear them describe us as the older brother. In fact, the church in America has a reputation of being the older brother by excluding those whose appearance or behavior we find appalling. But, isn’t the younger brother the one the church should be there for? We are called to welcome everyone regardless of what is going on in their lives. We are called to be like this father and rejoice at the return of someone from the brink. We are called to offer love and grace without qualification.

If being lost is worse than death, shouldn’t there be a place where people can be found? Where people are free to be themselves and find true relationship? A hospital where every sinner can go for healing?

It’s supposed to be us, but because of some stances we as the church universal have taken over the years, people view us at best as a club for good people and, at worst, as a gathering of cynical hypocrites. If you want a good look into the outsider’s view of us, I direct you to the book UnChristian. One of the young adults they interviewed described the church as, “Christianity has become bloated with blind followers who would rather repeat slogans than actually feel true compassion and care. Christianity has become marketed and streamlined into a juggernaut of fearmongering that has lost its own heart.” Sounds just like the older brother in this parable.

But, there is a way out of that. There is a way to be the church again. We need to really look at what this father can teach us and then go and be like this grace filled father. First, we need to shift the gaze of those watching us away from the down and out as well as the self-righteous in our midst to the grace offered within our family. When grace is equally offered to all, because we are all in desperate need of grace, then the reason we seek grace doesn’t matter. This father successfully shifted the focus from the sons to the grace he offered both. To the younger son he offered restoration and relationship. To the older he offered the grace of reconciliation. Both are necessary for us to fully live.

The father also demonstrates that grace abounds. When the older brother complains about the unfairness of restoring the younger brother (he never calls him his brother, rather, “your son”), the father asks, “what more do you want? You are always with me and everything I have is yours.” Let us not worry about the amount of grace someone else receives. Christ has provided us the grace we need, and some of us need a bit more grace in our lives. Just remember that a slave trader wrote probably the most memorable hymn ever. There is plenty of grace to go around and we don’t need to hoard it to keep others from it for fear of a shortage.

Because grace isn’t a finite resource we are encouraged to freely spread grace throughout the world. Everyone needs a different amount and type of grace. Sometimes we spread that grace through generously giving of our time, talent, or treasure. Sometimes we show grace through a simple smile, hello, or a much needed phone call from afar. Other times, we provide grace through prayers of intercession on behalf of those we know and love, and even for those we have never met or can’t stand.

Grace is abundant and pre-paid at a dear cost, so we can’t let it go to waste. The younger brother saw and accepted that grace and will most likely shower that grace sowing seeds he’ll never see grow. The older brother, in withholding grace from those who he deems unworthy is, in fact, rejecting the grace he so desperately needs. Let us go forth looking for where we need to accept grace so that we can liberally share that grace throughout our lives to those who we think don’t really deserve it so that we can always be in a mode of receiving the endless grace that Christ offers.