June 9, 2024 Sermon
I don’t want to alarm you, but we have a problem. It’s not just our church. It’s not just the Yonge Street Mission. But we have a problem.
The problem we have is actually universal. The apostle Paul summarized the problem in this way:
We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it. Romans 7:14-20
This is a powerful expression of the universal human struggle with self-control and the long to be free from the grip of sin.
Today we are going to look at one of Jesus' many brilliant parables that connects deeply with this problem we are discussing, and with the human condition.
It is impossible, I think, to read the story without seeing ourselves in it. As ________ read the passage, all those really listening would have felt something, more than likely, that resonates.
As we look at this passage, we are really looking through a window at much of the human story, and again we will see ourselves in the attitudes and actions of the son or sons in this story.
Jesus tells his story specifically to the “tax collectors and sinners“ who were all gathering around to hear Jesus.
They’re were the Pharisees and the teachers on the law present who were generally not enjoying Jesus.
And Jesus’ teaching in chapter 15 of Luke is really in response to the contempt that the Pharisees and teachers of the law were expressing both toward Jesus and toward his followers.
At the beginning of Luke 15 the author says that the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered: “This man welcome sinners and eats with them“.
To us in 2024, those eight words really seem like no big deal. But in this ancient context the Pharisees and the teachers reflected the general attitude of the spiritual leadership of the day.
They assume like attracts like. In that day, eating with someone implies acceptance, a bond with someone.
The fact that Jesus was welcoming to sinners, and even worse, that he freely shared meals with them, was beyond the pale.
It was something these religious leaders struggled to understand, and it was something that did not boost the reputation of Jesus in their eyes, to say the least.
Upon hearing their grousing, Jesus tells three stories about the lost becoming found. Jesus tells 3 parables
In Luke 15:4-7, Jesus tells a parable about a shepherd who leaves ninety-nine sheep to find one lost sheep, emphasizing the joy in heaven over one sinner who repents compared to many righteous individuals who do not need repentance.
In Luke 15:8-10, Jesus shares a parable about a woman who diligently searches for a lost coin and celebrates its recovery with her friends and neighbors, illustrating the joy in heaven over one repentant sinner, which of course echoes the theme of the previous parable.
We can’t possibly know if the Pharisees and the teachers of the law understood either of these parables; personally I suspect the “tax collectors and sinners“ were further ahead in grasping what Jesus was saying.
Whether or not they were tracking with what Jesus was saying, Jesus goes on to tell the story called the parable of the lost son.
The son we should understand as us, each of us here in this space. The father we should understand as being God.
15:11 “There was a man who had two sons. The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’
And what I notice first in the story is the son asking for his inheritance, which is, sadly, very much like the son saying: “I wish you were dead, dad. Give me my money”.
So he divided his property between them.
As I see the son and watch the father’s response, one thing that’s clear is that the father, and thus God, is really not at all what you would call a controlling person.
The response of God to us wanting to do our own thing, even in complete defiance of Him, is to not refuse us.
It is not to contain us, to control us, to condemn us, to reject us.
The son in the story for all intents and purposes rejects the father. Like I said, asking for your inheritance before it is due is no different than wishing your parents dead.
There are those who say that the idea of God NOT being controlling and rather allowing free will is irresponsible, that it’s even a flaw that proves that God is not perfect...
That if free will is the cause of humans doing terrible things...
think Hitler, think 9/11, think ISIS, Putin, Hamas - think of any story you’ve read in the paper in the past week where anyone did anything bad to anyone else...
There are those who think that the “free-will defense” of God proves a flaw in God.
But let me ask you, because the story we’re looking at is a tiny example of God’s relationship with all of humanity, is the father’s willingness to let his son go, with the inheritance, wrong?
Should the father have said ‘no’ and thrown his son into a cell for disrespecting him, in order to contain him?
Some may say that would be the right thing to do. But this father said ‘yes’ to his son, and allowed his son to NOT sit in a cell just resenting his father and learning nothing about the world or himself.
This father said ‘yes’ to his son, and he allowed the son to experience what life is like.
He allowed the son to, as the story progresses, personally grasp what it’s like to be out of relationship, out of earshot, of the father, and then to do his own thing. Interesting.
13 “Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living.
So in the story, the son appears to enjoy his life...for a while. The narrative wraps up the son’s experience away from the father in just these few words, but we know there was more to the story.
It wraps up the son’s journey thus far in just a few words covering a multitude of mistakes, of sins.
14 After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16 He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.
Then...then we’re given a picture of the son’s best thinking when he began to be in need, he chose to hire himself out to a farmer in that country.
Now, he had been a son, a son of privilege, a son who belonged, a son who was loved by his father. A son who enjoyed loving communion with the father and all the blessings of being part of a good family.
Now he’s a hired hand, a day labourer to a stranger. He feeds pigs.
In our culture, that’s not such a big deal. In the Jewish culture this was the lowest kind of degradation of a person. Pigs are unclean animals in that culture.
To be the one who fed the pigs, that’s scraping the bottom of the barrel. And as he’s feeding these animals their food, he’s so starved, if you can imagine, that pig food, random dubious slop, is starting to look attractive.
But he’s so far down the ladder, spinning the drain as it were, that he’s not even allowed to eat pig food.
No one gives him anything. This is a picture of a man coming to the complete end of himself. It’s a picture of a person who has reaped in his body what he has sown.
Nobody ever did, or ever will, escape the consequences of his choices.
You can do anything in this world if, and it’s as big IF that we need to consider wisely, IF you are prepared to take the consequences. Often the consequences are entirely foreseeable with a little thought.
So the son here is a picture of a person who is at a place a total desperation and deprivation. And it’s only after he’s been in the situation for a while that...what happens?...a light bulb goes off in his head.
The story says: 17 “When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18 I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ 20 So he got up and went to his father”.
So the son, grasping that he has utterly blown it, finally having regained, in his desperate state a smattering of good judgment, he begins to map out his strategy...how he’s going to apologize.
He hopes...he hopes that maybe, just maybe, his dad will let him work for him. ‘I don’t merit being a son anymore. But can I just be someone who works for you?’ He knew his dad’s character and that, unlike the stranger he worked for in the foreign country, his father was a just employer. A kind boss.
So the son got up and went home to his father, still reciting his speech in his head. I can imagine how he felt, now that he was thinking clearly.
Now that he realized just how far he had sunk, how distant he had made himself from the father. How alienated and estranged and utterly silly he would have felt.
20 “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.
And while he’s feeling this way, as he’s approaching home, while he’s still just a speck in the distance, his father sees him. You know the way you can recognize someone by their gate? By the way they walk, even if they’re in a crowd or far away?
The father knew the son’s walk. The father knew the son even from a long way off. And what does he do?
On the first sighting of his son, at the first sign that the son is coming home, what does he do?
Does he burn with anger? No. Does he stand in judgment? No. Does he [cross arms] withhold himself from the son? No. Does he demand an explanation? Seek retribution? Does he want to see his son humiliated so that the son really knows what he did wrong and that he really pays for what he did wrong? Absolutely none of it.
Rather on the first sign of his son’s return, the father is FILLED WITH COMPASSION. Now I want us to understand that word here.
The word compassion actually means “to suffer with another”. The father feels this, this compassion for his son. You see, not only did he recognize his son’s gate from afar off, but he saw the limp in his son’s walk.
He saw the effects of the contortion of his walk, from his son’s starvation and humiliation, his abasement, disgrace and degradation.
We carry in our bodies our histories. We carry with us our wounds, our traumas, our fears born from experience, we carry with us tension. The body remembers it all. We carry with us the burdens of life.
The prodigal son’s father recognized his son, and he also recognized his son’s deep wounds. He didn’t care if they were self-inflicted wounds. Obvious;y they were. And the father is filled, filled, filled with compassion.
The son, no doubt really surprised by his father’s unexpected reaction...the father’s thrown his arms around the son and is smothering him with kisses.
21 “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’
The son is still kind of stuck in the words he had planned to say, and he starts to recite his speech to his father: ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’
22 “But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.
What does the father do? What does the father say?
He’s clearly not listening to his son in that moment. He’s overwhelmed with joy. He’s on a different planet. He tells his servants to bring the best robe and a ring and sandals on his feet.
He tells the servants to bring the best calf, to prepare a feast and a celebration. The father can’t contain his joy at the return of his son.
And the father explains: 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”
There is no deeper grief than losing one’s child. We have members of this congregation who know exactly what I mean. No deeper sorrow.
But in this story, the father, who had already been grieving the loss of his son...that deepest and most agonizing of loses...that father is rejoicing at the return of his son. “My son was dead...dead! And now he is alive again! He was lost. And now he is found!
So they began to celebrate. Zoom. Off the servants go. They get it now. They see the reason for the father’s great joy.
Now there’s more to the story. While this is going on, there is a son, the older brother, who has always stuck around the father and done the right thing.
And he’s steaming angry: 25 “Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27 ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’
28 “The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him.
So the older brother stands in judgment of the younger son, refusing to enter into the celebration.
Oddly, the condemnation, the contempt perhaps that the prodigal son expected from his father, he gets that instead from his older brother.
And the older brother also stands in judgment of the father. 29 ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’
The father tries to explain: 31 “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”
But that’s the end of the story. It’s left to our imagination to figure out how the older brother fared.
It’s clear though that he doesn’t understand the father. He resents the son who has returned, and he resents the father’s open acceptance of his fallen son.
At the very least, the older brother in the story is a character that cautions us about being proud when we’re doing ok, thinking of ourselves more highly than we ought. “I haven’t done anything really horrible in 3 weeks. I’m awesome!”
He also cautions us about getting caught up in feeling that we have to work to earn God’s favour, in being trapped and joyless in a sense of duty and obligation toward God.
There’s a far better way to relate to God. And I think it begins by grasping at a heart level the joy of the father in the story of the prodigal son.
It’s by affirming, saying yes deep in our spirits to the fatherhood of God, the deep compassion of God toward all people.
It’s by appreciating the way in which He grants us freedom, the freedom to choose right from wrong, good from bad, generosity toward others vs selfishness.
He gives us that freedom, and sometimes, as the old hymn says, we’re ‘prone to wander’ from under His care.
But then – and this is remarkable to me – he doesn’t turn His back on us.
He has compassion upon us, He suffers with us the pain and consequences of our wayward actions. He suffers because He loves you.
He doesn’t seek to control us, but He does want us to choose to love Him, to choose to follow Him, to choose to live according to His way, the teaching we find in the Word of God and in the mouth of Jesus Christ, the Saviour of the World.
He wants us to choose to love Him, and when we don’t, either in the ways we behave or in our outright rejection of Him, He still has compassion on us.
He knows your name. He recognizes your gate from afar. He sees and responds to the wounds we bear.
He sees us from afar and He wants us to return.
That’s the ultimate reason why He gives us freedom to wander…so that we can have the freedom to choose Him.
Like it or not, God wants your uncoerced, unforced, unfeigned love.
He loves us, and as Kayla posted yesterday this quote from Joyce Meyer: “God loves us because He wants to. Nothing you can do about it. He just loves you and if you want to miss out on it, that’s up to you but God’s going to love you anyway”.
He wants you to choose to freely love Him. He wants you to choose to be with Him – now, and then in a way that’s vitally connected to ‘now’, for all eternity.
We’ve read today’s passage from the NIV. Here’s the same passage from the Message paraphrase of Romans 7:14-25:
15-19 I’ve spent a long time in sin’s prison. What I don’t understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise. So if I can’t be trusted to figure out what is best for myself and then do it, it becomes obvious that God’s command is necessary.
17-20 But I need something more! For if I know the law but still can’t keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don’t have what it takes. I can will it, but I can’t do it. I decide to do good, but I don’t really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don’t result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time.
21-23 It happens so regularly that it’s predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God’s commands, but it’s pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge.
24 I’ve tried everything and nothing helps. I’m at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn’t that the real question?
25 The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does. He acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but am pulled by the influence of sin to do something totally different.
You know, even as Jesus told the story of the prodigal Father and the lost son, He knew that it would be Him that would be the way back to the Father.
He knew, even as He narrated the journey of the Prodigal Son, that He would be the One to answer the Apostle Paul’s and our most consequential question:
Is there no one who can do anything for me? Or as the NIV puts it:
Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death?
Jesus knew that He would be the One
to restore us to God, to reconcile us to the Father by laying down His life for us.
He would be the Lamb slain, the ransom paid, the sacrifice given, willingly, in the ultimate act of love, as the supreme evidence of the love of the Father.
You likely have heard the Scripture: "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life".
It was Jesus who spoke those words, even as he anticipated his own suffering, suffering with a purpose.
Suffering that would result in Jesus Himself being the bridge between God the Father and his creation, humanity, that had been estranged from him.
And really, that is why we celebrate. That is why followers of Christ world-wide spend time gathering together every Sunday, to remember the love of the Father.
To remember the sacrifice of the Son. And to remember the gift of the Holy Spirit, given by the Father and the Son in order to lead you and me to faith in Jesus Christ and his sacrifice for us.
This is the answer to the problem that I stated at the beginning of this message.
The story in Scripture that we have been looking at today is often called “The Prodigal Son”, But I really think it should be called “The Prodigal Father”.
Why? The word “prodigal” means 2 things. It means as an adjective “spending money or resources freely and recklessly; wastefully extravagant”.
As a noun it means: “One who spends or gives lavishly and foolishly. 2. One who has returned after an absence.
But it also means: “Having or giving something on a lavish scale”.
God’s Father-heart is a lavishly giving heart. It is an abundantly gracious heart. It is a merciful heart. It is a heart that is long-suffering.
It is a heart that endures rejection, scorn, unbelief, hatred even. It is a heart that risks being misunderstood and maligned in order to bring healing to the nations.
May each of us here today, whether or not we belong to the church that gathers here, choose to embrace the Father-heart of God.
May we say "yes" to the love expressed in the willing sacrifice of Jesus, his life given to bring us home.
May we live and proclaim, as truly grateful, truly joyful people, the beauty and mystery of the love of God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
