O.K., I’m cheating. In our “Around the Word in Ninety Days” emphasis during the first 90 days of the year, we are following Terry Glaspey’s plan for reading some of the greatest chapters of Scripture, one each day. I covenanted to preach on whichever chapter fell on each of the Sundays. But this Sunday, March 3, I’m cheating.
In the ninety-day plan, the chapter for Sunday was Luke 24. But how could I possibly preach the resurrection of Jesus four weeks early, before Easter? No way. So I’m backing up one day to pick up the great chapter that is Luke 15. For those who care about such things, Luke 15:11-32 is actually the Lectionary Gospel reading for the next Sunday, March 10.
But leave all that aside, and we stand before a towering peak in the teaching of Jesus. What He taught here continues to both comfort and infuriate those who genuinely pay attention. The little parables of the lost coin and the lost sheep are lovely and make sweet Sunday School lessons. Yet the last portion of the chapter, which we typically call the “Parable of the Prodigal Son,” contains all the human pathos and drama of an episode of “Downtown Abbey.” As an instrument to teach us about God, this parable has echoed down through the ages with the message of an incredible love and grace.
Many people rightly complain about the traditional name of the parable. Early church father Irenaeus called it the “Parable of the Two Sons.” Others have suggested focusing on the father and calling it something like the “Parable of the Loving Father.” What these suggested changes in title get at is that there is more here than just the repentance and home-coming of a prodigal. Jesus meant to talk about the forgiveness of God and its implications for human relationships, particularly among believers.
One popular method for interpreting parables that actually works well for Luke 15 is to try and place oneself in the story. This parable cries out the question, “Am I the younger or the older son?” I think it might be well to consider that one could be either, depending on circumstances and the moment in life. Even for believers there are seasons when we find ourselves very much in need of “coming to ourselves” and returning home to our loving Father. And whenever we are comfortable in our relationship with God, we are always in danger of refusing to join the celebration for the return of those who have behaved badly.
For parents especially there may even be some merit in contemplating whether the parable does not ask us to be like the father in the story, patiently waiting for our children even when it seems hopeless. And there may be other circumstances in which we ought to be extending a similar patient love toward a friend or family member.
This is a glorious text. I can’t possibly do it justice. May the Lord give me a few words, and may those who listen hear His own grace and love coming through.