1.15.12--Sermon on Luke 15:11-32

Two weeks’ ago, Jess and I celebrated our second anniversary. As is usually the case on such memorable occasions, this day led to me spending the majority of my quiet time remembering all of the fun that we had at the ceremony and reception and even on the days leading up to it. I remembered the headache of trying to get everyone to his or her spots during the rehearsal. I admit that it was my groomsmen who were the problem. Someone made a comment that it was like herding cats, and they weren’t far off from the truth. I remembered having breakfast with Jess the morning of, both of us brimming with excitement for what the day would hold. So many memories crowded in my head, and, honestly, not all of them were happy memories.

I remembered the little tug in my heart when I realized that some of my family members had decided not to come to the wedding. I remembered some completely unnecessary tension that had formed between one of my groomsmen and me. And I remember being furious at two of my brothers while driving to the reception. 

You see, Korey and Ben were ushers. After the ceremony, they were supposed to head to the reception hall to seat people and help with any last-minute details. They decided, though, that instead of going straight to the reception, they were going to go fifteen minutes in the other direction to pick up dates. Now, I’m sure that they did not do this out of spite or even to shirk their duties. I’m sure that there was some kind of miscommunication or something and they did not know that they were supposed to be there so early. I’m sure of this, because neither of them would intentionally do something to ruin such a special occasion.

When I got the call, though, that they were not there, I admit that I lost my cool. I was fuming, and I almost let it ruin my wedding day. But Jess, in her infinite wisdom, reminded me that it didn’t matter. We were married—they couldn’t ruin that by not showing up—and the celebration would go on even if people had to seat themselves. I had a choice to make: I could let this spoil the party, or I could focus on what was so much more important and have the time of my life.

In our chapter this week from The Story, Jesus tells a parable about two brothers who had a similar choice to make. Hear now Luke 15, and listen carefully to this story of our people.

(Tell Luke 15:11-32)

What a wonderful storyteller Jesus is! Isn’t this one of those narratives that just draws you in? Now, aside from the benefit of simply hearing a wonderful story, Jesus shares the tale of the Prodigal Son for a very specific reason. You see, in this sermon, Jesus is sharing something very powerful about the nature of the Kingdom of God. 

But before we jump into this parable, we need a little background to set up exactly what is happening here. So Jesus has been going around the country now for some time, preaching, teaching, and healing all along the way. At this point, Jesus is surrounded by the people who need to hear his message of love the most—the tax collectors and “sinners”—and the pious, holier-than-thou Pharisees and teachers of the Law do not fail to take notice. They are muttering to themselves about the company Jesus keeps and judging him on the people surrounding him.

They are probably sneering as they make comments like “This guy’s supposed to be a great teacher? How can someone who has such a horrible judge of character know anything about the Torah?” or “You are the company you keep.”

Now, I don’t know about you, but when someone is obviously talking bad about me or sharing a pointed look with another after I’ve said or done something, its pretty obvious to me. And it was obviously obvious to Jesus, for he turned to them and began telling them three parables about just who the Kingdom of God is for.

The first is about a shepherd who leaves his 99 sheep to go out searching for the one that is lost. When he finds the sheep, he brings him back and celebrates with his friends. His joy in finding the one is so much greater than his joy of maintaining the 99.

The second story is about a poor woman who lost one of her only 10 coins. After careful and meticulous search throughout the house, she finally finds her lost coin and, calling together all of her friends she celebrates in the find. The joy of finding that lost coin was so much greater than the joy of holding on to the other 9.

Now, both of these stories illumine to us a truth about the nature of God: God wants everyone to be together with God, and when one becomes lost, God will devote all God can to see that person restored to right order. This is a wonderful message of grace and should give us hope that no matter how far we stray away from the flock, no matter how small the crack is we fall into, God will always search us out and strive to bring us back.

But this last story is a little different. Instead of using a parable about inanimate objects, Jesus shares this story about a family. Now, the one who is lost and the one who stays under the care of the father are human. They both have feelings and can take active, not passive roles in the story. Instead of the sheep being carried back to the flock or the coin picked up and placed in the purse, the sons act on their own.

The first son, the one who was lost but is now found, made the conscious decision to desert his family and waste his life and money on wild living. He was lost because he chose to lose himself in the whims of the world. Then, he made the conscious decision to return, hoping to secure the role of a slave in the house in which he used to be a son. We see the father’s response. We see his love and joy and celebration at his son’s return. Not unlike the celebration of the shepherd and poor woman. And he throws a party to commemorate this oh-so special occasion of when his son who was dead returned to life.

But whereas the other sheep and other coins do not seem to have any objection to the reclamation of their transient counterparts, the older brother absolutely does. You see, he was the good son. He stayed at home, probably worked tirelessly for years to pick up the pieces of his father’s estate after his younger brother left, and built up what would be his inheritance all over again. He probably felt like his was a thankless lot in life.

I mean, his father wouldn’t even give him a goat! Where’s the reward for all of his hard labor? And yet, his dad throws a party. For the son who cared more about drinking and gambling and promiscuity than he did for the well being of his flesh and blood.

Both brothers, who have led quite different lives up to this point, have choices to make that the story leaves unspoken.

The first brother must choose just how much of his father’s love he is able to accept after what he did. Can he allow himself to be called “Son” again when he know he deserves to be booted out of the house and chased out of town? Can he live his life solely on the charity of the very man he cheated and deserted? Can he enter the party, knowing he deserves the gutter?

The second brother’s choice is similar. You see, he has to choose whether or not he can accept his father’s love for his brother as well. He is going to have to live with the fact that his sibling is back, for it is still his father’s home. But it’s more than that. You see, he is expected to attend the “Welcome Home” party. Can he really celebrate the return of this manipulative, self-seeking conniver of a person?

These two brothers are given the choice: enter the party, or stay outside. Accept the love that the father has for both of them—a love they are powerless to suppress—or let the unfairness of truly gracious love leave them sulking in the cold.

This is the parable that Jesus shares with the Pharisees when they see him cavorting with “sinners”. It’s easy to see which roles Christ would have each of them play. Both the large crowds of sinners and tax collectors and the small group of Pharisees and teachers of the Law have a place in this story, and in so doing, everyone—no matter which of the two groups he or she might belong—has a choice to make. The excitement of the crowds seem to show that they are having no problem accepting the gift of grace and love that the Father is giving through Jesus. It is the Pharisees and tax collectors who struggle with this decision that would put them at the same level—loved, accepted, and celebrated—as the “sinners” that they love to look down upon.

But in the Kingdom of God, every mountain is lowered and valley is raised up. The roads are made straight and the plains are made level. Everyone comes before Christ as equals, for we have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God and all have been given grace freely.

Even the older brother must admit that everything he has came freely from his father.

So just like me two years and two weeks ago, we all have a choice to make. Will we enter the party and have the time of our lives, or will we decline to go inside and join in the celebration? Will we accept the love and grace that our Father freely gives to us even though we deserve the opposite, or will we stubbornly refuse to allow God to change our identity from slave to son? Will we celebrate the blessed event of a brother or sister who was dead returning to life, or will we refuse to participate in the Kingdom of God around us now?

May God help us make the right choice. May we constantly choose to join the celebration, to enter into the Kingdom of God here on earth. And may we always realize that God’s gift to us is so lovingly unfair that all we can do is delight in it. Amen.