Luke 15:11-32; Romans 5:1-11; Genesis 3:1-21; Psalm 85
Jesus Christ, My Lord: From Enmity to Peace - Reconciliation
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.
The call of Lent is to return. But why do we return? We return because there is someone to return to. That’s what the so-called Prodigal Son realized when he hit rock bottom. He had dishonored his father and treated him as though he were dead to him, squandered his inheritance in reckless living, and found himself starving and desiring to eat the food intended for pigs. Truly, you can’t get any lower than that for a young Jewish man. However, that was what it took, for there, in the pigsty, is when he remembered: “My father’s servants have more than enough bread, and here I am starving and eating the food of pigs.” So, he began making plans to return.
“I’ll offer to work for him, as a hired servant. At least I’ll have bread on my table, a roof over my head, and clothing on my back. He shouldn’t give it to me; I don’t deserve any of it; but I’ll work for it, I’ll earn it. He’ll pay me for my labor. I can live with that. At least I’ll have some self-respect, honor, and dignity.” Those were his plans.
What he didn’t plan on, however, is that his father had been looking for him, watching for him to return all those weeks and months and years. When the father saw his prodigal son coming – Yes, he saw him coming; How long had he been watching, waiting for his return? – his father ran to the boy and embraced him. He put the family ring on his finger, sandals on his feet, a robe over his shoulders. And he commanded his servant to slaughter the best fattened calf and to prepare a feast, “For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found’.”
Now, we could spend some time discussing the symbolism in this story: How the Father is God; The fattened calf is Jesus; the younger brother is your average sinner; The older brother is the self-righteous, unrepentant religious leadership of the Jews. We could do that, but none of that is really the point. For, this parable is about the Father and his prodigal mercy, grace, and forgiveness; everything else is secondary or tertiary or of less importance. Yes, the true prodigal in this parable is the Father. What kind of father would distribute his estate to his sons at the impudent request of the youngest? No father would do that! What kind of father would spend his days and nights watching and waiting for any sign of his impudent son’s return? No father would do that! What kind of father would fully restore his impudent son to full sonship with all rights and privileges upon his return without exacting punishment and demanding repayment and restitution in full or more? No father would do that. Then, what father would humbly plead with his older son when he showed his true colors, remaining at home while resenting his father and waiting for his demise? No father would do that. No father, save OUR FATHER, our Creator, Sustainer, and Redeemer.
Truly, the parable of the Prodigal Son says much less about us than it says about our God and Father. He is truly “gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love”, and he relents over our disaster, the disaster that we have made for ourselves. And that is why we return to him, because there is someone to return to. More than that, there is our God and Father, not only to return to, but who is watching and waiting for us to return to him with arms wide open, robe, sandals, and ring to bestow upon us, ready to restore us to full sonship with him and the inheritance we forsook, because he has slaughtered the fattened calf of his Son Jesus to redeem us, to purchase us back, because he loves us with a selfless and sacrificial love.
The call of Lent is to return. But why do we return? We return because there is someone to return to. To return is to repent, period. We return, not because we have something to offer to our Father, not because we can earn or merit his forgiveness, not because we can change his mind – we do not return to him because of anything about us, what we can do, or anything other than because of who he is, period. We return because there is someone to return to, because he is there, and that’s our best hope, our last hope, our only hope. To return, to repent, means to let it all out, to risk everything on our Father’s mercy and grace, period. “Who knows whether he will not turn and relent, and leave a blessing behind him?” Who knows? God knows, and that’s enough.
What is God’s response to our returning, to our repentance, when we have wandered far from His house and slowly made our way back? “Bring the best robe and put it on him.” What is God’s response to our moral failings when we confess that our sins were not only against our neighbor, but against the God of heaven? “Put a ring on his hand.” What is God’s response to our prodigious lifestyle when we confess that we are not worthy to be called His sons? “Put shoes on his feet.” What is God’s response when we squander all the good gifts He gives us with evil living, only to recognize our filth and go groveling back to Him? “Bring the fattened calf.”
The fattened calf is Jesus, God’s only-begotten Son, whom he loves. Your Father literally gave all he had, all he loved, to have you back. Even though you strayed, and still often stray, dishonored, disrespected, and disobeyed him, still he is always watching, waiting for you to return to him, to repent, and to throw yourself into his open arms of mercy, grace, forgiveness, and life, that you may live with him and the Son and the Holy Spirit forevermore.
It's never too late to return, until it’s too late. Today is the day of salvation. This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.
In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.
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