Sermons of Rev. Timothy J. Kennedy

					Until
Fourth Sunday in Lent
Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

Sunday, March 14, 2010
				

Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to (Jesus). And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them." So he told them this parable: "There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, 'Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.' So he divided his property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. But when he came to himself he said, 'How many of my father's hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands."' So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. Then the son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.' But the father said to his slaves, 'Quickly, bring out a robe--the best one--and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!' And they began to celebrate. Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. He replied, 'Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.' Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, 'Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!' Then the father said 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.'"

The story of the Prodigal Son, is a story of a wastefully extravagant young man (that's what prodigal means - to be wastefully extravagant), and the story is so familiar and so wonderful, that it can be told in any setting. You may not be one to memorize Scripture, but most of us can tell the story of the Prodigal Son by memory.

The context. In the 15th chapter of St. Luke, Jesus tells three stories about lost things ... a sheep; a coin; and a boy. And Jesus tells about the single-mindedness of individuals searching out the lost. You ever hold a dog biscuit out to your dog? You can hold it here, or here, or here, and the eyes of your dog will be glued to that biscuit ... and nothing will distract her. It is that kind of focus that three individuals share in common - a shepherd, a woman, and a dad - and nothing will distract them from their task.

A shepherd leaves ninety-nine good, faithful and obedient sheep, in order to track down the one which is lost. And the shepherd searches and searches until (what a word: until) he finds it. And when he finds that sheep he gathers his friends and neighbors for a party. A woman with ten coins loses one and turns the house upside down until (what a word: until) she finds that coin. And when she finds that coins she gathers her friends and neighbors for a party. And the punchline to both the stories is this: how happy, how delighted, how ecstatic God is over one sinner who repents ... more so than with righteous people who have no need to repent. Well, you don't need to hit the self-righteous religious folk upside the head - they get it. What Jesus is pointing out is that God has affinity for the sinner. The religious folk get the point of the stories.

And the third story. About two sons. And one father. The younger of the two sons wants his share of the inheritance and then heads for the far country. The implication is that the far country is on the far side of the tracks. First a lost sheep. This disturbs the shepherd. Then a lost coin. This disappoints the owner. Finally ... a son is lost. This devastates the parent. My friends, to lose a child to the far country, whatever that far country translates into, there surely is nothing more costly to lose. A child. One's own flesh and blood. All the parental hopes and dreams for the future ... lost also, with that child. You know the motto of WINS radio, "All news, all the time." Well, surely all of us could relate to this, whether or not we have children of our own: the life of a parent is "all prayer, all the time." The shepherd is disturbed. The coin owner is disappointed. The father ... the father is devastated. His son ... is gone. There are few relationships in all the world stronger than that between parent and child.

All prayer ... all the time, and that father must have been watching the horizon like a hawk, praying until (what a word: until), until one day he sees the silhouette of his son on the horizon. That father races down the dusty path and embraces that boy like there is no tomorrow. Why? Because now there is a tomorrow. He kisses that boy and calls the servants. "We're gonna have ourselves a party!" Do you detect a patter here? And everybody in the story is whooping and hollering, except for - the older brother is none to pleased; nor is the fatted calf!

And here is the genius of Jesus as a storyteller. The party is in full swing as Jesus introduces the older brother. The responsible, dutiful older brother, who had been working so hard. Out in the field he hears the tune of the fiddler. One preacher, Father Robert Capon, calls the older brother, "Mr. Responsibility. He comes up and hears the music and the dancing and he probably sees the waiters scurrying around with roast veal platters and everything else. And he questions one of the servants who says, your brother has come home and your father has killed the fatted calf because he received him safe and sound." And the older brother is angry and he will not go in. He will not go into the house. He is right out there in the midst of the party. He is part of the party but he will not join the party. And the next thing that happens in this: when he comes in with all this bookkeeping he says, "Look," to his father, "all these years I served you and I never broke one of your commandments and you never even gave me a goat that I could make merry with my friends. But when this your son (notice he doesn't say, this my brother) cuts off his relationship, this your son has wasted your substance with riotous living, has wasted your substance with harlots, when this son comes home you kill the fatted calf!" The older brother is lost - and doesn't even have a clue!

A few weeks ago I talked about how our culture takes joy at suffering of our icons. We like to see that the mighty have fallen. After the 8:30 liturgy, somebody introduced me to a wonderful German word, Schadenfreude. It has the sense of taking joy at the misery of others. Well, the older brother, is the practices the opposite of Schadenfreude. He is taking misery at the joy of others!

My friends, I don't know about you, but I've got a lot of stamps in my passport from the "far country." As the saying has it, if you feel far from God ... who moved? But thank God, my God is a God of Grace ... a God of "welcome home!" Our God is a God of joy ... a God of robes and ring and sandals - and not ordinary ones, either. But the finest of robes and rings and sandals ... for me - for you. Not because we deserve it ... but because our God is a God of great grace! Like a sheep - we wander; like a Good Shepherd, God seeks us, until. What a wonderful word: until. Like a coin - we get lost; like a diligent banker, God searches for us, until.

Like a wayward child, we flee from the family. Like a loving Father, God searches the horizon, until. And it's robe, ring, and sandal time. This is not the Parable of the Prodigal Son. This is the Gospel of the Prodigal God. Our God throws love around so freely that he is a Prodigal God in extravagance. Ours is a God of robes, rings, and sandals.

Of course, a God of robes, rings, and sandals is not good news to the religious self-righteous. And it may not be good news for some folks here who feel that have the inside track to God and reside on the right side of the tracks with the Savior. Yet, God's grace does not allow for a wrong side of the tracks.

Our God loves us even in the context of our sin. As proof this morning - as we kneel together at table in the sinners' section - we are fed the bread and wine of salvation. God has affinity for the sinner. And God will continue to seek us and to feed us ... until.