Tell me, how many of you came from a family that had more than one child?  Raise your hand if you had at least one brother or sister.  A lot of you have come from homes where there were multiple children.  So tell me, did it ever feel like your parents played favorites?  You know, treated you differently than your brothers of sisters?  Did it feel like your siblings got away with something that you never got away with?  Ever feel like someone else in your family got more attention because of the good things or the bad things they did?

It can happen, can’t it?  And when it does, it can leave a child wondering where he or she fits.  “Does my mom really love me?  Does my dad care about me?  Am I getting what I deserve? Well, you realize that those kinds of questions can come up not only in our relationship with our earthly parents but also in our relationship with our heavenly parent.  We can find ourselves wondering, “How does God feel about me?  Is he treating me the same as everyone else?  Will he still love me even if I misbehave?

My friends, these are some of the questions that Jesus answers for us today.  He answers them by means of a very familiar parable.  You maybe know it as the Parable of the Prodigal Son.  Sometimes it’s called the Parable of the Lost Son, or better, the Parable of the Lost Sons—because they were both lost in one way or another.  But for our purposes today, we’re not going to focus not so much on the behavior or the sons, but rather on the behavior of the Father.  Today we turn our attention to what might be called:

A Parable of the Father’s Love

  1. Love for the Son who Ran Away
  2. Love for the Son who Stayed at Home

Before we look at the parable itself, it’s important to realize what it was that prompted Jesus to tell this parable.  St. Luke tells us, “Now the tax collectors and ‘sinners’ were all gathered around to hear [Jesus].  But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, ‘This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” (Luke 15:1-2).  It is these two groups of people—the outwardly immoral people and the outwardly religious people—to which Jesus directs this parable.  And Jesus uses a son in the parable to represent each one of the groups.

Jesus begins the parable with the words, “There was a man who had two sons. The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’”  Now, understand that with those words the son is not merely saying, “Dad, can I have my allowance now?” “Can you lend me some money?”  No, with those words the son is saying, in effect, “Dad, I wish you were dead!”  For you see, in Bible times, a son doesn’t receive his inheritance until the father has passed away.  So in effect, what the son was saying was, “Dad, I don’t care about you.  All I care about is your money.”

Well, in a traditional Jewish family, do you know how a father would typically respond to a request like that?  He’s kick the son out on his ear.  But not this father.  Instead in the ultimate expression of love and selflessness, Jesus says, “The father divided his property between them.”  In other words, the father sold a part of his estate—likely a portion of the land that he needed to live on—and he gave it to his son, who then used that money to basically run away from his father.  Run away from his rules.  The son wanted to do whatever he wanted to do.  How does Jesus put it? “The younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living.”  This, by the way, is why this son is called the “prodigal” son.  Prodigal means reckless or extravagant.  The boy basically wasted the inheritance he had received.

Well, you heard what happened.  After the money ran out, the young man hits rock bottom.  He ends up being assigned the job of feeding pigs.  Remember, according to Jewish law, pigs are unclean animals.  A Jew couldn’t even touch one.  And this man is not only working with pigs; he’s wishing he could eat what they eat!?!  Man, that’s hitting the bottom of the barrel!

And yet, it’s in that desperate situation, that low point in his life that this man, Jesus says, “came to his senses.”  In other words, he realized that his rebellion from his father had earned for him nothing but a pig sty.  And so, what does this young man resolve to do?  He says, “I will set out and go back to my father and say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you.  I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men.”  In other words, the son acknowledges that he has sinned against his father on earth and his father in heaven.  He admits that he does not deserve the status of a son, and instead will work as a hired hand for his father.

Now, at first, we might say, “Man, that sounds like a beautiful expression of repentance on the part of this young man.  He’s sorry for what he did.  And now he wants to go back and make it up to his dad.  He wants to become an employee of his father, so he can earn enough money to pay his father back, and kind of get back in his good graces again.  Sounds good, right?  Not quite.

Why do I say that?  Well, maybe you’ve been in this man’s shoes.  No, not necessarily ankle deep in pig manure, but rather, in a situation where you realized that you have made a mess of things.  You realized that you’d disobeyed God’s commands.  You insisted on doing what you wanted to do.  You gave into your sinful desires.  And you felt embarrassed and ashamed because of it.  In a sense, that’s a good thing.  It means that our conscience is working.  To acknowledge our sin is healthy.  But often times, along with that confession of sin comes the thought, “Now I need to make up for what I did.  God, I’ll pay you back.  Just give me another chance.  I’ll make it up to you.”

You realize, that’s how every human being thinks, by nature.  By nature, I think, “If I did something bad, I must do something good to make up for it.”  There are whole religions built on that principle.  It’s why a church might say that if you sin, you need to do penance.  You need to say this many Hail Mary’s and this many Our Fathers.  That’s how our human reason works.  But it’s not how God works.  God doesn’t do what everyone expects him to do.

In this parable, Jesus’ listeners would have expected that the father would demand that the son first pay back the inheritance he had squandered.  Then maybe the son could earn a spot at the father’s table.  But that’s not what happened, is it?  What does Jesus say that the father did? “While [the son] was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.”  Really, this is the heart of the parable.  The father’s compassion for his wayward son.  The Greek word here is splanknizomai—literally, it means that the father’s guts ached for his son.  We might say that his heart went out to him.  And he made that clear by running to his son, throwing his arms around him and showering him with kisses.

Notice, all this happens before the son has said a word.  The father didn’t wait to hear a confession.  He didn’t wait to hear what the repayment plan was going to be.  No, the father simply loves and forgives his son.  And it’s that free forgiveness that prompts the son to forget all about trying to repay the debt.  What does the son say? “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you.  I am no longer worthy to be called your son.”  Notice, he doesn’t say anything about getting hired back to pay off the debt.  Why not?  Because he realizes that he can’t pay back his father’s forgiveness.  He realizes that his real problem is not the money he wasted.  The problem is the relation with his father that he broke.  And he can’t fix that relationship.  Only the father can.  And in an act of pure grace, that’s what the father does.  He restores the relationship.  He forgives his son.  And he wants the whole world to know, “This is my son again.  Dress him in my robe.  Put my ring on his finger.  Kill the fattened calf.”  Why?  “For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”

My friends, you realize, with those words, the father is talking about each one of you.  Isn’t that true?  Every one of us has run away from God in one way or another.  We’ve all broken that relationship with God.  And yet, what has God done?  Rather than waiting for us to clean up our act, or expecting us to pay off our debt, God says, “I’ll make the first move.  For Jesus sake, I forgive you.  No matter who you are, no matter how far you’ve wandered, no matter how deep into the slimy pit of sin you’ve fallen, still you can be sure that I love you.  I forgive you.  You are my own dear child.”  It’s just like the hymn we sang earlier said, Father Welcomes All His Children.

Yes in this parable of a Father’s love, the father showed: I. Love for the son who ran away.  But if you think about it, he also showed the same kind of II. Love for the Son who stayed at home.  Isn’t that the truth?  When the older son learned that his younger brother had come home and the father was throwing a party for him, he was furious.  Why?  Because he figured the younger son didn’t deserve a party.  He figured if anyone deserved a party, it was him, “the obedient one.”  And so what does he do?  He boycotts the party.  When the father comes out to plead with him to come in what does the son say?  ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’

            Tell me, does this older brother remind you of anyone?  Are there times when we might be the ones to think, “God, you’re not being fair.  God, you’re letting that guy off too easy.  God, you’re not giving me what I want.  I’m the one who’s slavishly working to obey all your rules.  I’m the one who has to go to church all the time.  And what do I have to show for it?  God, I think I deserve better.”

My friends, you realize that you and I could easily be either of these two brothers.  We could be the son who openly rebelled, but then came to appreciate his father’s grace and forgiveness.  Or we could be the son who outwardly obeyed his father, but in the end despised his father’s love for him and his brother.  I’ll let you decide which one you are more likely to be.  But whichever brother you are, whichever brother you were, know that one thing hasn’t changed.   And that’s your father’s love for you.  God’s love is constant; it is unconditional, it is undeserved.  And that means that your heavenly father wants nothing more than to put his arm around you and say, “Welcome home, dear son of mine.  Welcome to the family, precious daughter.  I’ve been waiting for you.  Come, let’s celebrate with a feast which my Son has specially prepared for you.  In Jesus’ name.  Amen.