The Boy Who Came Home

arisees. The Pharisees were students of the Bible, they just put the emphasis in the wrong place. They only saw God’s hatred of sin. They didn’t see His love of the sinner. That’s why they never understood Jesus. They could not love as more important than purity. They were appalled that He talked with sinners. Jesus knew their concerns. He just didn’t care. There are more important concerns than a good reputation. In reply, Jesus told them three stories. The first story was about a lost sheep. The shepherd abandoned ninety-nine other sheep, went out and found it. When he found it, he was overjoyed. He threw a party, and rejoiced with his friends. Then second story was about a lost coin. A woman swept her house, ignoring her other coins until she found that coin. When she found it, she was overjoyed. She threw a party, and called her friends. The third story was about a lost son. Do you notice a pattern here? A lost sheep, a lost coin, a lost son lost. In these three stories, Jesus is saying that God is seeking and saving the lost. This final story--the so-called “prodigal” son—is arguably the most famous parable ever told. It is the most perfect parable ever written. Its message applies equally to all people everywhere. It begins “A certain man has two sons.” Jesus didn’t give the man a name, but we all know who he is. He’s God. Jesus didn’t give these two sons names either, but every one of us is one of those two sons are. Each one of us is one of them. The first son--the prodigal--represents all the lost children of the world. The second son—the good son--represents all the good, moral, decent folk who feel they deserve special treatment because of their goodness. The Pharisees were represented by this latter son. The sinners Jesus befriended were the former. Which of the two are you? Today, we’re going to talk about the first son Next week, we’ll talk about the other. Every family has a wild child—one who didn’t want to be home, and would give anything to leave. For a wild child, home is a hard place to be. He grew up like a radish in a rose patch, sharing his house with the godlike father and a too-good brother. This wild child couldn’t live up to the standards of his father. When compared to the moral perfection of his brother, he always came up short. All that goodness and morality must have been like a suffocating blanket. He wanted to cut loose and be himself, but when he did, he was never accepted. Almost every family has a wild child. When you love them, they feel suffocated. Rules are a like a prison to them. When you care for them, they take it as an insult. No one seems to understand or appreciate the way they feel. Sometimes, when we see wild children, we want to excuse their behavior. There are all kinds of excuses we offer for a wild child. But the truth is, no matter what the cause, wild children suffer most in life. The world is not kind to wild children. It does not conform to our whims--we must conform to it. This wild child wanted to bust out of his home and go into the world. .He no longer thought he needed his parents. Whenever possible he tore at the connecting bonds that he held him to the family. Jesus doesn’t dwell on this part of his nature. It isn’t important to him. Jesus doesn’t care about the past of people—only their potential. Every one of us has a rebel inside. I visited my doctor one day. He’s a middle-successful professional. He had just grown a goatee, and I asked him why he grew it. He smiled and said “Because my parents hate it!” Here he was, in his fifties, and he was still a rebel. God knows our rebel thoughts--and He loves us anyway. That is why we call can identify with this prodigal. Traditionally in the Catholic church, the story of the Prodigal Son is read on the second Sunday of Lent. It is a time for remembering that we are all prodigals. In the Eastern Orthodox church, it is also read during their Lenten season. At that time, the congregation sings a song of confession. “I have recklessly forgotten Your glory, O Father;And among sinners I have scattered the riches which You gave to me.And now I cry to You as the Prodigal:I have sinned before You, O merciful Father;Receive me as a penitent and make me as one of Your hired servants.” We are not only rebels, but God encourages us to be rebels—or at least to acknowledge our rebelliousnes. We shouldn’t be surprised when we find a rebel inside us all. We are all prodigals at heart. So when the wild child came to the father, the father knew it was coming. The boy said “Give me my portion of the estate now.” In those days, when the father died, the children divided up the estate. The older boy got the most, the younger boy got the least. Even the least was still a hefty portion. To receive it early was irresponsible, like giving a baby a machine gun. He had no idea how to use it responsibly. It was also an insult to his father. For him, taking his portion meant taking it from his father. His father could not use it any more. He was also declaring himself independent of his father. Taking his portion was to make him independent of his father’s house. The son was declaring that the father was essentially dead to him. How great is the father’s love--that he would give his son what he wants! It must have been the hardest thing the father ever did. Most parents, fearing that their son would squander it, would not give it. But this father knew his son would squander it. He also knew that it was the only way of curing his son’s rebelliousness. If it took half of his estate to teach his son a lesson, he was willing to do it. God gives us our freedom not because we deserve it, but because He believes in the power of His own love. Why do you think God lets us fall into sin? Because He believes that no matter what we do, we may still be redeemed through His love. For some people, sin is the only thing that will cause them to appreciate righteousness. What God cannot accomplish by His presence, he accomplishes by his absence. He lets them go, to gain them again. So it was with this father. Once out of the house, this son goes crazy. He goes to a far county and blows the whole wad in short order on foolishness. What were the consequences of his sin? if it weren’t for the famine in the land, the boy might have gone on living in that far off country, running wild and eventually wound up dead. Some people live as wild children all their lives. They go broke. They go to jail. They get divorced, or pregnant. They lose their jobs. Circumstances force them to their knees. God’s blessing was with this boy, and He did not allow him to live wild for long. He suffered and starved until he came to his senses. Have you come to your senses yet--or are you still running from God? Members of A. A. call “bottoming out”. Things got so bad that he was forced to confront the truth. He was better off in his father’s house. Even the servants in his Father’s house had a better life than he. This boy wanted to go home, but he didn’t know how. When he took that inheritance, he declared his father dead to him. As far as he was concerned, he had no father. As far as he knew, his father had no son. The young man hit upon a plan. He’d go back and apologize. He wouldn’t ask his father to take him back as a son. He’d ask to be a servant to his father. As the boy trudged over the barren hills towards his father’s house, he imagined what he would say. He would say “I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men.” The father would be stern. He didn’t deserve is, but maybe his father would have mercy. Mercy is always unfair. This boy never knew or understood his father. He didn’t know that every night, that father sat on the porch and looked down the road, yearning to see his son again. I lost count of how many times I have seen parents sitting by the door, hoping for the return of their prodigal son or daughter. Still, the love of our parents is nothing compared to God’s love. He bled for your redemption. He cried over every blow that life that has struck against you in your foolishness. He felt your hunger along with you. He never stopped loving you—and never will. As the boy trudged up to the gate of his father’s house he practiced his little speech. But he never got to deliver it. From a long way off, his father saw him. I would imagine that he smelled him a long way before he saw him—this ragamuffin son, covered with pig slop and the sweat of the road, too caked with filth to be known by any other way. His father knew his scent as a sweet aroma. And he ran to meet him. In oriental cultures, the way one walks determines ones’ social status. Kings don’t walk--they’re carried. Common men walk fast,. Slaves run. In this parable, the old man gets off the porch, and bolts out like and Olympic sprinter. The boy doesn’t say a word before his father scoops him up into his arms. He covers him with kisses and tears. The boy tries to get out his speech, but his father stops him. “My son was dead and is alive again. He is lost and now is found. Quick, give him a bath. Bring him a new robe and put it one him. Give him some shoes, and slay the fatted calf. We’re going to have a party!” And before the boys astonished eyes, the old man takes him back, not as a servant, but as a full-fledged son. Now, what is the moral of the story? Simply this—Jesus is for sinners. Their return is His greatest joy. He wants to see them back in his arms. The Pharisees never got that. They still thought God cared more about morality than about blood. But in truth, anyone who is God’s children, no matter what they have done, God still loves them. It isn’t the good children but the wild children that God loves the most. He loves us—rebel heart and all. Christ loves us sinners. He died for us wild children. And He loves you, too.