Welcomed Back

Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

Today we encounter one of the well known stories of the Bible: the prodigal son.  This is a story that is known by most and loved by many.  It is a story that is relevant to our lives.  We can relate to it.  At its core this story really is about each one of us.  We could quickly try to claim that this parable is just about drug and alcohol problems, problems of dissolute living.  We could claim that it is about people who end up in prison because of lifestyle choices.  We could declare that it is about people in places that live in famine.  We could try to write it off as being about people who squander everything they have.  None of those meanings are the point of this parable. 

No, at this parable’s core is us, each one of us.  Within its cast of characters there is room for each one of us to play a part.  Are we the older son?  Are we the father?  Are we the younger son?  At one point or another in our lives I think we all will play the role of each character.  Feel free to change the gender of the characters.  Feel free to change the relationship of parent and child to another relationship in your life: teacher and student, you and your significant other, coworker and coworker, you and your boss, or whatever fits your situation these days.  The relevant question in this moment is who are we in this parable today? 

            Are you the older son?  Maybe you are you angry that a party has been thrown for your younger sibling.  Maybe you are upset that your younger sibling has squandered his or her part of the inheritance.  Maybe you are miffed that your little brother or sister would wander back after a bout of dissolute living.  Maybe you are absolutely irate at the way in which your sibling has been greeted, welcomed, and given complete reconciliation after such behavior.

Are you the parent – the father or mother?  Maybe you are overjoyed at the return of your child who was once lost.  Maybe you are annoyed with the way your children treat each other.  Maybe you wish there could be reconciliation between your children.  Philosopher James K. A. Smith, “Your children are going to break your heart.  Somehow.  Somewhere.  Maybe more than once.  To become a parent is to promise you’ll love prodigals.”  That love is an unconditional and unbecoming love.  Love that made a grown man run toward his son, which was inappropriate in ancient Palestine.  Love that caused the father to slaughter the fattened calf, which would need to be consumed quickly, which meant this was probably a village-wide party.  Love that shows extreme reconciliation.

            Are you the younger son?  Maybe you are glad about the way you have been able to experience freedom and independence.  Maybe you are upset with yourself for the way in which you have squandered your inheritance.  Maybe you are annoyed with your older sibling and his or her lack of hospitality when you return home.  Maybe you are shocked at the extravagant response of your parents when you return home.  Maybe you are simply thankful to finally have food to eat.  Maybe you are absolutely blown away by the reconciling love being expressed by your parent.

In case the story of the prodigal son seems to unbelievable to wrap your mind around in this current day and age let me share with you this modern day story of the prodigal son that I recently read.  The young son had gone to San Francisco.  He was out of money, out of friends, out of options.  He had hit the bottom and was at wits ends.  This lost son wrote a letter home to his parents living in the Seattle area.  He wrote, “Dear Mom and Dad, I have sinned deeply against you.  I have sinned against you and I have sinned against God and I am not worthy to be called your son.  There is no reason for you to love me or welcome me back home.  I am at the bottom of the barrel and I need to come back home.  I hope that you would welcome me. I have been given a ticket for a train, a ticket to get me back to Seattle.   The train comes past our farm south of Seattle.  The train comes around the bend and right past our farmhouse.  If you want me to come home, please put a white towel on the clothesline, out in the back yard near the tracks.  I will then know that you want me to come back home.  If there is no towel there, I understand.  I will understand that it is not right for me to come back home.”  The young man sent the letter, got on the train, and started heading north.  As he came closer and closer to home, he became more nervous inside and was pacing up and down the center aisle of the train.  As the train came closer and closer to his farmhouse, he couldn’t bear it anymore.  He was momentarily  sitting next to a man, and he said to him, “Sir, around this next corner, this next bend, there is going to be a farm house of the left.  A white house.  An old red barn behind it.  A dilapidated fence.  There will be a clothesline in the back yard.  Would you do me a favor and look and see if there is a white towel hanging on the clothesline?  I know it sounds peculiar, but I can’t bear to look.”  Well, the train came closer and closer to the bend and started to go around the bend, and the young man’s heart was racing as fast as it could.  The man said, “Look, look, look. Open your eyes.”  The whole clothesline was covered with white towels.  The oak trees were covered with white sheets.  The barn roof was covered with sheets.  The old dilapidated fence was covered with white sheets.  There were sheets everywhere.  The father and mother so deeply wanted their son to come back home.

            The same is true for us.  When we wander away from God and let me be the first to admit that I have done this and I would venture to say that we all have, we are welcomed back.  When we squander everything that God has given us, we are welcomed back.  When we spend our inheritance in dissolute living, we are welcomed back.  When we think that we are no longer worthy to be called God’s sons and daughters, we are welcomed back.  When we think reconciliation is impossible, we are welcomed back.  

If we go back to that quote by Philosopher James Smith, we can imagine them as God’s words. “Your children are going to break your heart.  Somehow.  Somewhere.  Maybe more than once.  To become a parent is to promise you’ll love prodigals.”  If you hear nothing else today, hear this: Regardless of which character you may be at this point in your life, know that there is welcome for you.  God will run to meet you, embrace you, give you the finest robe and ring, throw a party in your honor, and provide ultimate reconciling love and grace for you each and every day.  You are always welcomed back by God, because God promises to love the prodigals.  God promises to love us.  Amen.