The Cost Of Coming Home

“The Cost of Coming Home”

Luke 15:11–32

The Prodigal Son

There are few stories Jesus tells that feel more familiar than today’s. There’s family dynamics. There’s parenting issues, kid issues. Life issues. There’s greed. Anger. Disappointment.

For most of us, we’ll see some aspect of us and our family’s in this parable told by Jesus.

This is one of the most popular of Jesus’ parables. And I wonder if it’s because we wonder how many of us can identify with the parable of the prodigal son?

Maybe we’ve been the mom or dad in this story. Maybe we’ve been the younger son, or the older son? Maybe we’ve been on all ends of the spectrum.

So many of us know what it’s like to experience rejection, disappointment and heartbreak from people who say they love us.

The parable is found in Luke 15:11-32, the 3rd book of the NT. Instead of simply reading this to you, I found a video depiction of this parable. I’ve cut it and tried to edit it . . . to shorten it. It takes a little liberty with the dialogue. But I believe the point Jesus was making is evident.

Let’s watch the video - - - -

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We’ve heard it so many times that we almost miss the weight of it. That’s why I thought a video may help.

This is a powerful message from Jesus, but it’s too easy to rush to the embrace too quickly. We want to skip to the robe and the ring. Instead, we need to sit with the story long enough to let it search our hearts and spirits.

Jesus said - - - - “There was a man who had two sons.”

And immediately we know this is about more than family. Somehow, we’re involved. There’s more to this than it being called a story, it’s a metaphor or hyperbole for us. It’s about you and I.

The younger son doesn’t storm out in a rage. He doesn’t suddenly disappear. He wanted his independence. He wanted control over his life.

And nobody was going to tell him what to do or how to live. Have you been there? I’ve been there. It’s empowering and it’s fun . . . . . . for a minute.

So, he asked for his inheritance. Which, in that culture, was essentially saying: “I want what’s yours … but I don’t want any part of you.”

It’s relational severing disguised as financial independence. Could this be a clue into who you and I are?

Oh, but, I’m not talking about our family relationships, or about our desire for financial independence, I’m talking about you, me and God.

We don’t wake up one morning and decide to run from God. We’ve talked about . . . we drift . . .

We ask for blessing without surrender.

We ask for freedom without spiritual formation.

We want the fruit of the tree, without doing the work.

We want the harvest, without planting a seed.

It’s the illusion of freedom. It’s a blast, for a time. And at the very same time we’re drifting.

We end up in a famine . . . and that famine, those dark days expose what we trusted. You see, we don’t sprint from God. It’s drifting, kinda falling asleep, dozing. And it’s so easy for this to happen.

The son wants independence. He wants financial freedom. He wants it all on his terms. Are we really all that different?

In that culture this was an outrageous request. Notice the language the son used. Give me what’s coming to me. I don’t want to wait for you to die. I want my inheritance NOW. And in Jewish culture, the younger son would have received 1/3 of the estate.

The son would rather live as if his father were already dead. He doesn’t want the relationship. He wants to do his own thing, than respect the honor of his family.

And this is intentional. This isn’t a momentary lapse in judgment, it’s premeditated. He rebels against his father, the family name, and disrespects him.

The father lets him go, he doesn’t chase after him. Rebellion isn’t conquered by physical restraint or control, but by teaching the truth which often comes through suffering the consequences of life.

The son goes to a far country. Sometimes the far country is geographical. Sometimes it’s internal. We can sit in church, we can worship . . . and still be in a far country. I’ve been that person. So many of us have done it.

The son thinks he's escaped a rigid, demanding and structured life. He’s off to a land where nobody knows him and he can be free.

Think about small town living. Ever want to run away so nobody would know who you are? You drive too fast, say something wrong . . . and word gets back to your home.