Fourth Sunday of Lent (Cycle C)

The Truly Prodigal One 

Joshua 5:9a, 10-12; 2 Corinthians 5:17-21; Luke 15:1-3, 11-32 

It feels as if we're dropping in on old friends in our Gospel today, doesn’t it? We have visited with them many times-this Father and his two sons. This story is considered the pearl of the parables. Charles Dickens, the great English author, has called it “the greatest story ever told.” Some hail it is the finest short story in literature. Poet, Robert Bridges, has judged it as a “flawless piece of art.” Small wonder that through the centuries, this story has inspired the artwork of Rembrandt, the music of DeBussey, and the poetry of John Masefield. One theologian has said that the story of the prodigal son captures “the essence of the Christian faith.” It is the gospel in a nutshell. If you truly understand this story…of the father, the prodigal, and the older brother, you will begin to grasp the central thrust of Jesus and the core message of the whole New Testament.

What image of God do you best relate to? Some people relate best to the God of Genesis 1 and 2 - the great creative power, full of awe, wonder and strength. Some have found God in the justice discourses of the prophets Amos, Isaiah, Jeremiah and Micah. Some have found God in the imagery and mysticism of Revelation. And I have found God in all of those places as well. But when I close my eyes and picture God, invariably, I come back to the story of the Extravagant Father that we hear about in today’s parable. This is the God I believe in. This, for me, sums up God's nature.

Even when I am most absurd or even mean-spirited, God lets me be who I am at the moment. He knows my character and he knows that I will act outside of that character when I forget that I’ve been created in his image and likeness on occasion. And his love and trust in me is so great that he will allow me to distort my character, distort his image within me, and wallow in self-centeredness.

And he waits for me. He sends little reminders now and again, but mostly he waits. He knows me well enough to know that when I get tired of my self-imposed exile from him, I'll come home. He loves me enough to let me exercise my free will even when it is opposed to his will and law. He simply waits for me to come to myself.

And when I do, he rushes out to meet me. He doesn't let me offer to be a slave. He doesn't seem to care about the long-winded speeches of apology I've prepared in my mind as a guilt offering for my disobedience. He cares about me. He rejoices, he celebrates when I come home to him. He wraps me in the robe of forgiveness. He adorns me with the jewels of his eternal presence. He feeds me with foods I could only have dreamed of while traveling distances alienated from him.

That's God, for me. He is always waiting by the door for me, me as wretched and low as I might become. He's waiting for me. And he rushes out to meet me as I make my first step toward him. Oh to feel those arms around my neck. To feel the hot and sweet breath of his kisses on my neck. Abba, Daddy. I'm home.

Have you ever placed a very young child in front of a mirror? Children enjoy seeing a face looking back at them as they enjoy seeing all faces, but they don't realize that the face they see is them. Then, all of a sudden, they begin to note the connection between their motions and the motions reflected in the mirror. And their expression changes, as if to say: "Hey, that's me!" The same thing happens to us when we hear this story. We hear it at first as an interesting tale with wonderfully drawn characters, but the more we listen the more we realize, "Hey, that's me."

We have all been the younger son. We've all forgotten who we are and whose we are. We've all distorted our characters, distorted the image of God within us, and wallowed in self centeredness. That's part of our brokenness.

And we have all been the older brother - self righteous, judgmental. We've looked at the wretched masses and turned our faces away from them. We've refused to forgive. We've placed our lives on the pedestal to be the example for all to see, not realizing that we're as distorted and broken as our brother.

And, we've all experienced the love of the Extravagant Father. Maybe in different ways. And maybe some of us are still in the process of turning, of returning to ourselves. It's not a one time deal. Our extravagant father runs out to us time and time again. He's there for us whenever we fall into sin and repent and return to the Lord.

But here's the challenge. After we've come home. After we've experienced the embrace of extravagance. After we've been robed with forgiveness. After we've tasted that roasted calf at the table of acceptance. After we've been the younger son. After we've been the older son. Can we become the Extravagant Father? After finding out what it means to be loved by God, the very essence of what it means to be an extravagant Father - can we be the image of that Extravagance here in our lives?

The image of the Father that Jesus presents to us in this parable can be a little bit unsettling. It is an image of God to whom punishment, vengeance, recrimination are empty words, a God who asks of us that we simply accept the totally unconditional, loving forgiveness he offers us, and who asks that we offer the same to one another.

That is our journey. A journey through being Prodigal children, self-righteous siblings and on into becoming the Extravagant parent. Do we love as he does? Can we rush out to meet those that have hurt us? Do we truly forgive even the mean spiritedness that the Extravagant Father forgave? He is the Abba – Daddy who rushes out, throws down his cane and dances in the streets as he sees the lost return. Can we do the same?

According to the Complete Oxford Dictionary, the word prodigal was not applied to the parable until the 15th century. But according to that dictionary, “prodigal” means "wastefully or recklessly extravagant;" "giving or yielding profusely;" "lavishly abundant." You know something, for five hundred years now, we’ve gotten it wrong! Because, in a real sense, the most “prodigal” person in the parable is the father! He not only gives his property over to his sons – he lavishes love, forgiveness and acceptance on both of his children. You and are called to do the same. You and I are called to be chips off the old block. You and I are called to be true prodigal sons and daughters of a most Extravagant Father.