The Prodigal Who Stayed Home
Luke 15:1, 2, and 25-32
"Tax collectors and other notorious sinners often came to listen to Jesus teach. This made the Pharisees and teachers of religious law complain that he was associating with such despicable people - even eating with them!"
These two verses from Luke 15 set up Jesus’ three stories of things that were lost and then found. Really, there are three categories of people here in the two verses. There is, first of all, Jesus. Then, secondly, there are all these sinners, tax collectors, spiritual zeros flocking to Jesus, and they are thoroughly disreputable people.
Then there’s a third category, people that are thought of as spiritual giants, who are devoted to following God. These are the people who measured their church membership in decades, rather than weeks and years, finely decked out in their tailored sport coats and ties. These are the people who flaunted their attendance pins, and sat as chairmen of all the key ministry committees. These are the thorough going church people of their time, and they knew they were. And they could not understand Jesus. They say, "This fellow, who claims to be a holy teacher, this fellow welcomes riff-raff, and eats with them."
These fine churchgoers were deeply offended by Jesus having table fellowship with sinners. What they’re saying, essentially, is, "He’s watering down the faith by accepting anyone. Sure, it’s no wonder he’s successful and can draw lots of crowds when he junks all of our traditions. He’s no different than they are."
So in Luke 15, Jesus tells three stories. Most all of us here know what they are. Every one involves something lost. Somebody lost a sheep in the first one. Somebody lost a coin in the second one. Somebody looses a son in the third one.
They all knew the meaning that Jesus is laying out in these stories. The sinners who are with Jesus, this riff-raff, hear these stories and they say, "That’s me. That’s my story. I was lost like that sheep. I was missing like that coin. I was a prodigal in a distant land. Now I’ve been found, and the one that’s found me is Jesus."
But here is where Jesus turns up the heat on contented church folk. He doesn’t end the story of the prodigal son where we usually end. Actually, the part we usually read is simple stage dressing for the climax of the story.
In the second half of the story, we discover there was not simply one prodigal son in Jesus’ story. There were two. And the real force of Jesus’ story is that he confronts us with the prodigal who stayed home.
For, as you will see, the story shifts its focus from the younger son, who has returned home, to the elder brother. And, again, as we will see, we don’t have to wander away from home to be far from the father.
Let’s pick up the story at vs. 25. As we read through this part of the story, pay close attention to the interchange between the father and elder son. Luke 15:25:
25 "Meanwhile, the older son was in the fields working. When he returned home, he heard music and dancing in the house, 26 and he asked one of the servants what was going on. 27 ’Your brother is back,’ he was told, ’and your father has killed the calf we were fattening and has prepared a great feast. We are celebrating because of his safe return.’
28 "The older brother was angry and wouldn’t go in. His father came out and begged him, 29 but he replied. ’All these years I’ve worked hard for you and never once refused to do a single thing you told me to. 30 Yet when this son of yours comes back after squandering your money on prostitutes, you celebrate by killing the finest calf we have.’
31 "His father said to him, ’Look, dear son, you and I are very close, and everything I have is yours. 32 We had to celebrate this happy day. For your brother was dead and has come back to life! He was lost, but now he is found!"
What picture does this story paint for us of the relationship between the father and the elder son? Pay particular attention to the relationship from the side of the elder son. How close would you say he is to his father?
There are a couple of indications within the text. Notice he never calls his parent father or dad. There is a disconnect in the relationship between father and son. The only term the son can muster to describe the relationship "I’ve been your slave".
The other indicator is he doesn’t even go to the house to find out what is going on from the father. He is suspicious from the very beginning, and so he asks someone outside. He summons the household staff out behind the barn. He could get the word straight from the old man, but he connects with the hired hand.
¨ How do we know if a person has settled for residing in the father’s house while staying away from the father?
¨ As good church people, how do we know when and if we are edging away from our relationship with God, the Father?
¨ How can we check ourselves to make sure we are not becoming like the elder son?
In the story, Jesus gives us three signs of a life outside of relationship with father. We can check ourselves by weighing ourselves against those three signs.
Sign #1: We may be the elder son, if we lift up our righteousness.
The Contemporary English Version presents the clearest picture into the attitude of the elder son where in vs. 29 he says, "For years I have worked for you like a slave and have always obeyed you."
And that term "always" that’s a pretty big word to chew. And if you hear that word used by your spouse in a heated discussion at home, don’t call them on it. I speak from experience. It doesn’t help.
You may be asking yourself, "How does he know that what the elder brother said wasn’t true?" Let me say, "That’s a good question."
Here’s how I know: As the eldest son, it was his responsibility to co-host any celebration within the household. But rather than joining the celebration, and performing his role as host, he pouts out back. By simply staying out back, he has dishonored his father in front of all of the guests. But that minor infraction never dawns on him.
He sees his professed integrity as his step up on the competition. So he takes and lifts his own self-righteousness high above his head. "Hey look at me. I’m the good son."
"I have always obeyed you," he says, and the truth is, he’s never really obeyed one, not from the heart, which is what matters. He doesn’t know a thing about obedience. He understands conformity. He knows about following orders. He knows nothing of the obedience that comes from a loving heart.
Do you know anyone like that? Someone who always makes sure that he comes off smelling like a rose. Someone who always has done the right thing for the right reasons at the right time - right, without fail, or so they would have you think.
Isaiah tells us in ch. 55 that even "our righteous acts are filthy rags." Even our best actions rate no higher than dirty, oily shop rags.
What about yourself? How do you tend to grade yourself spiritually? I’m not talking about comparative grading that says, "I’m better than the next guy." That doesn’t wash Biblically. That is the perceived problem here with the older son.
I’m talking about a truthful, honest assessment of yourself spiritually against the words of Scripture, no room for rationalization, no room for compromise, no room for anything but axe to the root truth. When standing in the face of God’s holiness, left naked, no place to hide our sin.
There is a verse that has become a favorite of one of our elders, and I have heard him repeat it many times over the last several months. Psalm 51:6a - "Surely you desire truth in the inner most parts…"
The question for you is - are you ready to resign from your reliance on your own righteousness? Will you confess that sin has and does have a hold in some area or areas of your life? Will you accept your position as another prodigal son or daughter who’s come home? That’s all you are.
Friends, there’s a party going on right now, and it’s a party of people who recognize their fallenness and have entered into the fellowship of forgiven sinners, and they are struggling and battling against sin, and as brothers and sisters, helping each other to do it with truth and with grace.
We may be the elder son, if we lift up our own righteousness, and forget about or down play our sin. But …
Sign #2: We may be the elder son, if we blow up the sins of others.
Look with me at vs. 30: "Yet when this son of yours comes back " - do you notice what phrase he uses to refer to his younger sibling? "This son of yours", not "this brother of mine." Again, we understand that. Parents do that kind of thing. A kid does something - "Well, that’s my boy!" Kid does something bad - "What’s that son of yours done now?"
"Son of yours" is a phrase that would be said by someone who is outside of the family. Someone who is a stranger would say, "How is your son?" That’s what the elder brother is doing. He is speaking as if he were not a part of the family.
Look again at vs. 30: "Yet when this son of yours comes back after squandering your money on prostitutes" - this is a real interesting part of Jesus’ story. Where in the first part of the story does it mention prostitutes?
It doesn’t. In the first part of the story it says, "he wasted all of his money on reckless living." Although there could be a moral implication, the term that Jesus uses is more ambiguous. It may suggest that this younger son blew his money on sinful exploits, but it could equally mean he lost his money on foolish investments, or foolhardy purchases. He could simply be the rebel without a clue.
Where did that come from? The elder brother just made it up. Maybe he just wants to paint as bad a picture as he can. So he takes what little he knows and blows the story beyond recognition.
To some degree, we have done with the younger brother exactly what the older brother has done. Just list the kinds of sins you have heard attributed to the younger brother. They are not there - not a one!
But the sadder truth is that we often fall into this with each other. You know the setting. It may be over a cup of coffee, or a bite to eat. It may even be introduced as "I have something I need to share with you so you can pray."
There’s a party going on for those who have learned what Jesus meant when he said "judge not," and some of you are sitting on the back porch and you will not come in. The truth is, you enjoy being judge and jury.
You mask it with a veneer of piety. You may sound kind of religious and on the surface try to sound fairly positive or laugh fairly frequently, but the truth is, there is a kind of negative, judgmental spirit in you that bubbles, up, and it’s toxic.
You gossip behind people’s back. You just reflexively find fault with those around you. Passing judgment has become such a habit; you don’t even realize it. There’s a barbed comment behind nearly everything that you say.
Every time that we pinpoint a weakness, you utilize it to draw down the value that the person has in the eyes of God. Every time we do that we become the prodigal who stayed home, standing on the outside.
The question for you is, will you resign tonight as judge over others? Will you confess the judgmental spirit that’s going on inside your heart that not only sees wrong but feels no compassion, no warmth, no obligation to help, kind of enjoys pinpointing the wrongs of others? Will you accept your position as the prodigal who stayed home?
So, we lift up our own righteousness, and blow up the sins of others, if we are the prodigal who stayed home. However, there is one last sign of a life outside of a relationship with the father.
Sign #3: We may be the elder son, if we hold up the father’s offer of grace.
This is where the rubber meets the road for those living outside of a relationship with the father. This is where the two previous signs collide.
Notice the result of when we lift up our own righteousness, and blow up the sins of others. For the elder son, the result is an attempt to hold up the father’s offer of grace. All of the self-righteousness and the critical spirit erupt in a cry of "It’s not fair! This son of yours comes back; he gets a fatted calf. He gets big wages for doing bad. I get no wages for being good. It’s unfair." This is the heart of the elder brother.
A show of hands on this one. How many of you have had two or more kids? Raise your hands, would you? How many of you have ever heard one child claiming the other child got a later bedtime, a bigger portion, a milder punishment or a nicer present? Do you every hear claims of unfairness?
That’s the elder brother syndrome. See, the elder brother secretly thinks that the prodigal son has had more fun. He secretly believes or at least suspects that life is better in a distant land.
If anybody is happier or more successful or has a richer relational life or a more flourishing job than me, I cry unfair. Friends, it is the most miserable way to live.
There is a party going on. It is the kingdom of God and it’s at work, and it is made up of all of those who have learned and are learning how to rejoice with those who rejoice, who learn to celebrate the good fortune of others, to live with the joyful heart of the father, welcoming all who come home. That is grace.
Some of you are here this morning, and you’re sitting outside of the house on the back steps and you refuse to come in, and you’re bitter because somebody else has gotten the breaks that you are so sure ought to have come to you because you’re not the guest of honor at every party.
The question this morning is - will you rejoice with those who rejoice? Will you learn the discipline of grace? Will you be grateful for your life, allowing it to become grace-filled, because if you won’t, you’ll never be grateful at all?
"His father said to him, ’Look, dear son’" - the father kind of overlooks all of the insults that his son has leveled against him, and even though his son did not address him as "father", he gives his son this title, "my son".
It’s a very tender word. It is not the usual word for son in the Greek. It is the word you would you for a little child, a very tender word. "My child," the father says to the child who wouldn’t call him father, "You are always with me and all that is mine is yours."
The father says to his son what God says to you and I right now. "What I have been offering you all these years is me. What I have been offering you is me, and if living at home with me is not enough then all the parties and properties and goats in the world will not be enough. Every time your brother’s in the limelight, every time somebody else is celebrated, it will stick in your craw. It’ll choke your heart."
God longs for a church where prodigal sons can just come on in, and the people who are inside the church embrace them. "This brother of yours," the father says - in other words, you’re still family.
The father says, "For so long I lived in sorrow over a lost son. For so long I kept looking every day to see if he’d return. Now that I have him back, must I lose another?" Then there’s silence. The father looks into the eyes of his son, the elder brother. What does he see? Confusion, sorrow, hurt, anger?
We don’t know. Jesus just stops right at the climax of the story, and he walks away. He never finishes the story.
Why doesn’t he finish it? Well, it’s not because he couldn’t think of an ending. It’s because the ending has yet to be written. It’s because all those listening to Jesus would have to decide.
Now you will have to decide. The story will end one of two ways in your life. One is that the elder brother turns away from the father, returns to the field, works in coldness and bitterness of heart and never enters into the house again. Did his work, maybe followed the rules, but he never went into the house. He grew to hate his brother, and secretly he grew to hate his father. When he died, he died all alone. The story could end that way.
Or it could end like this: It could end that the elder brother, after seeing the heart of the father, falls to his knees and his hard heart is broken and made tender, and he came and he entered into the house and there he saw the skinny, wasted figure, the tear-stained face of his brother. His heart explodes with love, and he throws his arms around his brother and he would not let go. He joins in the celebration, and he laughs louder and sings longer and dances faster and cries harder than anyone else at the party.
How does the story end? It’s up to you.
