Scripture: Luke 15:1-3, 11-32
Remember the movie Saving Private Ryan? Spoiler alert if you haven’t seen it: But it is, like, 30 years old now, so c’mon! But if you’ve seen it, you’ll remember the dying words that Captain Miller, Tom Hanks’s character, spoke to Private Ryan, played by Matt Damon. After nearly everyone in the unit dies in order to save Ryan’s life, Miller says to Ryan, “Earn this… Earn it!” Because Ryan has received an incredible gift—the gift of life, paid for by the lives of so many of his fellow soldiers.
And next we see an elderly Ryan, decades later, near the end of his own life, standing beside the grave markers at Normandy beach—asking his children and grandchildren, “Did I earn it?”—in other words, did he live a life worthy of the sacrifices that Miller and his fellow soldiers made for him so long ago? Did he deserve the life that their deaths made possible for him?
I worry that that Captain Miller placed an impossible burden of guilt on Private Ryan. How could he earn so many men sacrificing their lives for him?
By contrast, in today’s scripture—which is the most renowned parable of Jesus—our Lord is telling us that the gift of life that Christ gives—eternal life… which includes the forgiveness of sin, adoption into God’s family, the baptism of the Holy Spirit… this gift cannot be earned. It can only be received. It’s a completely free gift. It is amazing grace.
That’s what today’s sermon is about, and we’re going to look at this parable, naturally enough, from three different perspectives, first, the father’s perspective; second, the younger son’s. And third, the older son’s.
But first, the father’s perspective…
Look at verses 11 and 12: “There was a man who had two sons. And the younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of property that is coming to me.’ And he divided his property between them.”
Jesus’ original audience for this parable would be surprised—shocked even—by these words.
In this ancient Jewish culture, the younger son’s request is completely out of line—it’s disrespectful in the extreme. Scholars agree that, in this ancient culture, the younger son’s insolence deserves his father’s beating, not his acquiescence. For one thing, you don’t ask for your share of the inheritance before your father is dead; it’s as if the younger son were saying, “Dad, you’re worth more to me dead than alive. So go ahead and give me what I have coming to me. Because I wish you were dead. I don’t want to be with you anymore.”
Think of the emotional pain that would cause the father!
Also, you may not have considered this before: it’s also very costly for this father to give the younger son his share of the estate early.
And you maybe you think, “Well, he was going to give the younger son his share of the inheritance eventually. So what’s the difference?”
But consider this: This father was likely middle-aged—late middle-aged—like me; I have two sons who are old enough to do something like this… Anyway, this father potentially had many years of life ahead of him. But now, because he was dividing his estate before his death, the father would have a lot less wealth to live off of for the rest of his life. One-third less, to be exact. Because according to the law of ancient Israel, the older son was entitled to two-thirds of the estate, and the younger son was entitled to one-third. The younger son was taking one-third of his father’s wealth away from him.
So think about the harm the younger son has caused his father: Instead of having 100 percent of his money, his livestock, his servants, and his land to live off of for the rest of his life, the father would now only have about 67 percent of his wealth to live off of.
And no one knows what the future holds! What if the father and older son—who now only have a third less wealth to live off of—become victims of famine or recession or bad investments or theft? It’s easy to imagine that that missing 33 percent of wealth could mean the difference between life and death, between health and sickness, between prosperity and destitution!
That’s costly!
Not to mention the shame, the dishonor, the disgrace that the father will have to endure because of his younger son’s actions. Everyone in the community will know exactly what the younger son did to his father! They’ll know what the father allowed his younger son to do!This will be shameful for the father! Think of the gossip! This will ruin the father’s reputation. Will the family ever live it down?
And when the father receives his younger son back, even his unwillingness to let his son “work off” his great debt would seem crazy to everyone. What the father does for his son goes completely against cultural norms and expectations. It seems crazy!
Speaking of which, the most popular praise and worship song of the past ten years, which our own church often sings, is “Reckless Love”—the refrain of which includes these familiar words: “Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God.” And this very popular song is also among the most controversial praise and worship songs—even more than that “sloppy wet kiss” song!
Why is it controversial? Because… many pastors and theologians worry that it’s a mistake to call anything about God, especially the way he loves us, “reckless.”
And yet… If Jesus intends to say that our heavenly Father’s love for us “looks a lot like” the father’s love for his sons in this parable, well… you’ve got to admit that from a strictly worldly point of view, it does look pretty reckless!
In fact, I wonder if our squeamishness about calling God’s love “reckless” is the same reason that people living in a traditional culture of the first century would be bothered by this father’s actions!
What I mean is, maybe we’re not so different from people living in Jesus’ day! Maybe we also are troubled by God’s seemingly reckless love.
If you don’t believe me, consider this: How many times—in movies, on TV shows, in books—do we see some offender being offered forgiveness by someone, and we hear another character object, saying, “But they don’t deserve your forgiveness!” Because “deserving” is a necessary precondition to forgiveness. Doesn’t seem to be in the case of the prodigal son!
Or what about panhandlers who approach us on the street. Don’t many of us have some checklist in our minds that these beggars must first satisfy before we will give them the “gracious gift” of our money? Panhandlers are prepared for this, too… They always have a story, and it may not always be 100 percent true. When a panhandler approaches me, I almost want to say, “Save it. If I give you this money, it’s not going to depend on convincing me that you deserve it.” I’m only speaking for myself… We all must use prayer and discernment in these difficult situations.
But my point is, don’t we often believe that people have to be worthy and deserving of our gifts? The father in the parable has no checklist when it comes to love and grace.
Or how about this? Occasionally you’ll hear about some heinous violent crime in the news: someone gets murdered, or people get murdered, in some shocking act of violence… Yet, sometimes, instead of vowing revenge against the perpetrator—some family and friends of the victims—who are always Christians, as far as I can tell—extend forgiveness to perpetrator. I’m thinking, for example, of a shocking incident in an Amish community in Pennsylvania several years ago… These Amish—who are Christians of the Anabaptist tradition—granted the perpetrator forgiveness.
And when this kind of forgiveness is made public—pay attention to how people respond: it will either melt our hearts or make us angry… We see both those reactions… every time!
Because we have a “love-hate” relationship with unearned, completely free, no-strings-attached grace. In our hearts we often think that grace must be earned! If not for ourselves, at least for many others.
Otherwise it feels—I don’t know… unjust… even… reckless?
Well, that’s Point Number One… the father’s perspective…
Number Two… let’s look at the parable from the younger son’s perspective…
Let’s start by looking at this son’s well-rehearsed speech that he’s prepared for his father in verses 18 and 19: “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”
Do you see what’s happening here? The younger son is like so many of us… Like many of us, he accepts the premise that forgiveness and grace must be earned. So his plan is to earn it, to pay it back, at least to some extent, as much as he can, by spending the rest of his life working as his father’s servant.
Except his plan fails… Because notice in verses 21 and 22, after his father ran to him and embraced him and kissed him, the younger son doesn’t even get to say that last part of his speech, about being a servant—he doesn’t even finish his speech—before his father cuts him off and says, “Bring my best robe and put it on him. Bring me my ring and put it on him. Put sandals on his feet.”
His father won’t hear of his son being a servant. Forgiveness is free. Grace is free. It’s as if the father were saying, “I’m going to treat you exactly the way I would treat you if you had never sinned against me. I’m going to treat you as if you are perfect. Because in my eyes, you are. Nothing you have done, or could ever do, will lessen my love for you. There are simply no strings attached when it comes to my love. I’m not even waiting around to see how you’re going to behave going forward. There’s no trial period. There’s no probation.”
That must have been shocking to the younger son!
Also, let’s talk about the younger son’s motives for coming home. What ultimately makes him decide to return home? Is it just that he feels so guilty and broken up about the great harm that he’s caused to his father and his brother and he wants to make amends?
No… Not even close… Of course I’m sure he feels guilty about what he’s done…
But according to the parable, the primary reason the younger son returns home is… he’s starving… and he’s run out of options… and he can’t think of anything else to do, he can’t think of anywhere else to go… and he can’t think of anyone else to turn to, who can save him… other than his father. Of course he’s also sorry for his sins—but that’s not the main reason he returns home. He’s motivated by the same thing that motivated him to take his father’s money and go to the “far country” to begin with: he’s motivated in large part by self-interest!
And yet… surprise, surprise… in spite of his mixed motives—his impure motives—somehow that’s enough for his father!
In his masterpiece of a book, The Problem of Pain, C.S. Lewis says that sometimes God sends trouble to people because God knows that trouble will have the same effect that it has on this younger son: it will cause them to come to their senses and return to their heavenly Father. And good news… Like the father in the parable, our heavenly Father is not too proud receive us back!
No, God is instead very humble, Lewis writes,
because it is a poor thing to strike our colours to God when the ship is going down under us [“strike our colours” is a naval term that means surrendering to an enemy ship… so “it is a poor thing to strike our colours to God when the ship is going down under us”]; a poor thing to come to Him as a last resort, to offer up ‘our own’ when it is no longer worth keeping. If God were proud He would hardly have us on such terms: but He is not proud, He stoops to conquer, He will have us even though we have shown that we prefer everything else to Him, and come to Him because there is ‘nothing better’ now to be had… It is hardly complimentary to God that we should choose Him as an alternative to Hell: yet even this He accepts. 1
This younger son’s father is his last resort. He’s proven through his actions that he would prefer “everything else” to his father. He’s proven that he’s only choosing his father as an alternative to death.
“Yet even this He accepts.” “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him.” 2
That’s love! That’s grace!
And that’s Point Number Two…
And now let’s look the parable from the older son’s perspective.
And what I need us to see is that, even though these two sons made very different choices in life… even though we admire the older son for staying home and working for his father… even though we disparage the younger son for leaving, they actually have so much in common!
See, both the older son and the younger son share the exact same belief about their father’s love: The younger son says, “I no longer deserve my father’s love—because look at all these terrible things I’ve done—therefore I need to work hard to earn it.”
The older son says, “Unlike my no-good younger brother, I have worked hard for years to earn my father’s love, therefore I deserve it.”
In other words, the younger son says, “I don’t deserve my father’s love, therefore I need to earn it.” The older son says, “I have earned my father’s love; therefore I deserve it.”
Either way, they both share the same belief about their father’s love: it must be earned.
They both would love the ending of Saving Private Ryan: “Earn this! Earn it.”
They each needed to learn the meaning of grace! And the younger son did!
So what happens at the end of the parable?
In many ways, at the end of the parable, the two sons possess the exact same things. They share the same love from their father. They share the same land. They share the same wealth—the same livestock, the same servants, the same resources. The wealth is less than it would have been without the younger son’s sins, but… they now share what’s left. They share the same rights and privileges that come from being part of their father’s family.
The older son’s anger notwithstanding, by the end of the parable, the two sons seem completely equal. They both possess the same things.
Except… they’re not equal… Not at all… the younger son, you see, has something that the older son doesn’t have. And what the younger son has is precious. It is worth everything. It is a priceless treasure.
The younger son, unlike the older son, has the experience of discovering that his deep hunger can only be satisfied by his father, and by his father’s love and grace…
He has the experience of finding that his deepest longings, his most urgent needs, are met only in his father… and his father’s love and grace.
The older son doesn’t have that experience!
That’s why, at the end of the parable, the older son still thinks he needs something other than his father’s love and grace to satisfy him. In so many words, the older son is saying, “I want more than what you can give me! I deserve more than what you can give me! Your love is not enough. Your inheritance is not enough. Your treasure is not enough. I want more.”
What about you? Is our Father enough for you. Is his Son Jesus enough for you? Have you found that our Lord can satisfy your deepest needs? Have you found in Christ your greatest treasure? Or are you still looking for something else… something “more”… something better… at least from your perspective?
The prodigal son faced a crisis: He squandered everything. He was on the brink of starvation. He nearly died.
That’s a crisis! No doubt…
But allow me to describe an infinitely worse crisis:
This same young man takes his father’s fortune, moves away from home, settles in this “far country,” except… instead of squandering all this money in reckless living, he invests it. He becomes a successful entrepreneur—successful beyond his wildest dreams! He hires a large staff of servants and employees to manage his properties and holdings.
He builds large houses and vacation homes.
He marries a beautiful wife who truly loves him and gives him many children.
And his children also love him. And they grow up and become successful, independent adults—each of whom, in turn, gives him grandchildren and great-grandchildren…
This man has got it made! And not only that, he is able to retire young, to enjoy a long life free of any major health problems. And he dies at a ripe old age, at the end of what any reasonable person would consider a good, longlife.
Yet he never returns home. He never reconciles with his father.
That’s a crisis! That is a far bigger crisis…than merely losing all of his money and going hungry until finally coming to his senses, repenting, and returning home to his father!
Because the biggest crisis any of us can face is living our lives apart from our Father… and then dying, without ever receiving his forgivingness… without ever being reconciled to him…
It’s been said a million times: “You don’t know that Jesus is all you need until Jesus is all you have.” But it’s true…
Do you know that Jesus is all you need? Do you know that this elusive happiness and joy and satisfaction and contentment in life—which you would give everything to possess—is freely available only from our heavenly Father through faith in his Son?
[Invitation…]