The Prodigal Son | March 30, 2025

By the Rev. Greg Farrand

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The Prodigal Son

March 30, 2025

copyright Rev. Greg Farrand

The story from today’s gospel reading is one of my all-time favorites… The Prodigal Son. There is a father with two sons, one wild and licentious (the younger brother) and one dutiful and disciplined (the older brother). Kind of typical first born and second born roles. Now it’s important to take note of the first verse of our passage. Notice the context. There is a group of Pharisees and “righteous” religious leaders complaining that Jesus is hanging out with a group of technicolor sinners. You have dutiful and disciplined folks judging Jesus for spending time with wild and licentious folks. And so Jesus tells this story with two brothers representing his audience.

In the story, the younger son is profoundly dissatisfied with life at home. He is bored, feels limited and oppressed, and so, with a sense of bratty entitlement, he demands his inheritance from his father.

This request says, in essence, “Dad, I wish you were dead. Give me what’s coming to me when you die.” Truly offensive. But the father in this story knows that to win his son’s heart, he must let him go. You cannot coerce love. He allows the son to go on his self-determined trajectory towards pain and isolation because love cannot be forced. Trust cannot be forced; it is only freely given from an open heart.

So the father liquidates some of his assets and gives the boy his inheritance. And the young man runs off squandering it on wild living. He is convinced that real life, true happiness will be found as he feeds his visceral appetites and urges.

The young man traveled and partied and was the most popular guy around. Until he ran out of money. Then all his so-called friends abandoned him. Then in this foreign land, a famine hit. He finds himself starving, ill-treated and working for a pig farmer (something a Jewish person would find particularly humiliating). He is so desperate that he longs to eat pig slop, but they won’t let him. His suffering brings sanity and he decides to head home. He realizes that all he had been pursuing did not bring authentic life. He was looking for love in all the wrong places. In the words of author Henri Nouwen, “I am the Prodigal anytime I search for unconditional love where it cannot be found.” Unfortunately it takes time and usually suffering to realize all these other things can’t deliver, and that our only true home is found in God.

On the long journey home, he is rehearsing a speech… “Father, I’ve sinned against heaven and against you. I’m not worthy to be called your son, but treat me as a hired hand.”

What happens next is my favorite part. Jesus says that “while he was still a long way off,” the father saw his boy and was filled with compassion. Now this would indicate that his father had been looking for him, day after day, with the hope that he would see his son on the horizon. He then does what no dignified older Jewish man should do; he hikes up his robes and sprints down the road. He is overwhelmed with love and simply does not care what others think about him. Imagine being the son, and seeing your dad running down the road towards you.

Certainly you would have some doubts at that moment. Is he going to beat me? Scream at me for dishonoring the family? At least lecture me and view me as an outcast. But what happens next is utterly shocking. It’s a moment of profound tenderness and power.

The father reaches his boy and scoops him up into an embrace. And as the son begins to recite his rehearsed apology the father interrupts with joyful declarations. He has no time for apologies… his heart is too full! Get the best robe and put it on him! Get sandals for his feet! And get a ring on his finger (this would be a signet ring declaring to everyone that this is his son). Kill the fatted calf, break out the wine… it is time to party! What a welcome! A love with no strings… no conditions…. no waiting for an apology… just wild, irrational and beautiful love.

And Jesus gives us this story as a glimpse, the tiniest peek, at what God’s love is for us. As lavish as this is, it is only a drop of the infinite ocean of God’s love pouring out on you right now. At the thought of you (the real you I mean, with all your internal struggles and anxieties), when God thinks of you, that Divine heart leaps, and God sprints down the road to scoop you up, and tells heaven to party down.

This unfiltered love is poured out over everyone. Wild sinners and upright, dutiful people like the Pharisees. God’s scandalous grace welcomes everyone. This love is immutable, it is constant, and unchanging.

The question is not, “Does God love us?”, the question for everyone who has ever lived, and for us this morning is “How will you respond to God’s love?” What will you say, in this present moment, to God as youare invited you to come into the party?

Perhaps, at this point you may be thinking this love seems to go too far. What about accountability? What about our role and responsibility? And with these questions let’s turn to look at the older brother.

We are introduced to the older brother as he hears the music and dancing and laughter. He wonders what the party is all about and in discovering that it’s for his younger brother, he refuses to go in.

This older brother has been diligent, and followed all the rules. He has spent every day being a good son, doing everything the father asked him to do. And then this? This disobedient son who brought disgrace on the family, spending his inheritance on prostitutes, is welcomed home with the party of the century? He does not deserve the party! He has not earned the party.

And while this parable is typically called The Prodigal Son we could actually call it The Prodigal Sons. Because while older brother was physically home with the father, his heart was far, far away. Even though he was at home, he was as blind to the father’s love as the younger son had been.

This older brother thought love should be earned, and so created criteria by which he could attain it. Obedience, duty, responsibility. And once you create criteria, you can measure how you’re doing and naturally measure others by the same standard. The result? A graceless quid-pro-quo theology… an anxious self-righteousness that is compassion-less. This system measures love and compassion down to the ounce and views resources as scarce. When you live by the law, grace looks unjust and offensive. You see, neither son loved the father for the father’s sake… they were both just using him as a means to an end. So this is a hard teaching of Jesus; being a good boy or good girl can actually make you as distant from the father as wild living in a foreign country. This means that you can be blinded to the heart of God either by breaking his rules, or by keeping all of them diligently.

So how does the father respond? As we have already seen, the father loves the older brother just as much as the younger brother. And we see this in his response. Just like he went out to the younger brother, he now goes out to the older brother. He has compassion for both sons; no judgment, just loving invitation to the party. He tries to pull the older brother up and out of his self-righteous, imprisoning world view. He listens to his boy complain that he has never even been given a goat to party with his friends, but this dysfunctional sicko of a brother gets a veal cutlet. It is no wonder he complains about this. In all honesty the older brother probably never asked for a goat because that would be spending capital that might be better used later (again… a worldview dominated by scarcity). And then father tries to explain reality to his boy. “Son,” he says, “you have always been with me and all I have is yours.” All of this is freely yours… not because you have earned it but simply because I love you. That fatted calf is yours and you could have had it with your friends at any time. All I have is yours… the house, the land, my heart are all yours all the time… simply because I love you. Let go of your self-imposed prison and come into the party.

And we do not know if the older brother came in or not. The question is left hanging out there. Jesus, as the master story teller, leaves the invitation extended and we are left waiting for an answer. Because, in reality, this question is posed to us this morning: Will you come into the party? If you are a younger brother, will you stop running, let go of your idea of what will bring life, and risk the possibility that all you long for is found in unconditional love? Older brothers, will you let go of your righteousness, of the self-created criteria for judging yourself and others and realize that love is freely given and unearned? Will you accept the acceptance of God?

Come into the party where through Christ we discover that we live in a benevolent universe, and there is no scarcity of grace and compassion, only unconditional love. It is a love that is impossible to fully digest and difficult to believe. And in a few minutes, as we celebrate Eucharist and you walk to this altar rail, know that the Father is joyfully sprinting towards you with a heart full of joy and infinite love.