Prodigal Love

March 31, 2019

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

Once there was a man who had two sons... Once there was also a woman who heard this parable so many times that she thought she knew exactly what it meant.  Which is pretty much like asking God to come and turn you upside down. And sure enough... My spiritual director gave me this parable several weeks ago as something to pray with during Lent. Once there was a man who had two sons... Because this parable is usually referred to as the Parable of the Prodigal Son, I’ve always assumed that the word “prodigal” meant someone who went away and then came back.  But it turns out it doesn’t mean that at all. According to the dictionary, the main definition of prodigal is actually “exceedingly or recklessly wasteful.” Which fits this younger son perfectly.  There he is at home feeling claustrophobic.  Feeling like he is missing something. Wondering what else is out there in the big wide world.  Feeling a longing or emptiness that he thinks can be filled somewhere else. And so he begs his dad for what will one day be his inheritance anyway and goes off and squanders it all “in dissolute living.”  Since we’re defining things, dissolute, it turns out, means “immoral, indulgent in vices, showing a lack of good character.”  There are no details given, but we can use our imaginations. If this younger son had a theme song, it might be, “Looking for love in all the wrong places.” But then, as probably often happens with dissolute living, the younger son runs out of money.  He finds himself starving and working at one of the least desirable jobs imaginable to Jewish ears -- feeding pigs.  And it’s only when he finds himself in this truly dire and desperate place that he begins to realize how good he’d had it at home.   The story tells us that in this moment, “he came to himself.” He starts to get a sense that maybe the emptiness he’d always felt couldn’t be satisfied by food or adventure or even other people.  And that the tempting voices he’d been following weren’t to be trusted after all. And so, with just a glimmer of realization that what he’d most needed and wanted had been with him at the start, he heads home, rehearsing in his head the speech he plans to give his father. At first, this felt like such good news to me!  The younger son was lost and now has returned! But then, I began reflecting on my own experiences of lost-ness.  And I thought about how easily I can be tempted to fill my emptiness in all the wrong places -- with prestige or things or adventure.  About the ways in which I too need to repent and turn and begin making my way home. And, truth be told, I found it all rather discouraging. And then this parable hit again, this time about 2 weeks ago at our Tuesday Cloister Night, where this happened to be the Gospel readin. Once there was a man who had two sons... This time, in the 45 minutes or so of silence that night, it was the older son that caught my attention.  And it occured me that the name “Prodigal Son” is a total misnomer.  Because there are actually two prodigal sons.  The younger one was squandering his father’s money.  But the older one is squandering his father’s love. He has spent his entire life “working like a slave,” never disobeying any command.  And he thinks that by his efforts he is earning the right to his father’s estate. For his entire life he has missed his father’s generosity and now he has turned petty and angry and bitter.  He is so blinded by his self-righteousness that not only is he offended by his father’s welcome of his wayward younger brother, but he refuses to come to the best party the neighborhood has ever seen.  It turns out that this older son is just as lost as his younger brother ever was. Maybe his theme song is “Cold as Ice.” As I sat with this parable, I began reflecting on all the ways I’m like that older brother, thinking that it is all about me and my efforts, and judging the people around me as unworthy or unready.  How I too am sometimes cold to the love and generosity offered to me. Again, I have to tell you, I ended up feeling pretty discouraged. And then the parable hit again - this time as the text assigned for my preaching today. And that is when the story changed for me.  That is when I realized that those sons aren’t what this story is about.  Not really. I think this story at its heart really has to do with a second definition of the word “prodigal.”  Meaning, “extremely generous.” This parable isn’t about the sons. It’s about the Father. This is the Parable of the Prodigal Father. Once there was a man who had two sons...  A younger son who wanted nothing to do with him.  And an older son who completely misunderstood him and thought he was an ungrateful slave master. But that didn’t change the father. When the younger son turned away, the father kept vigil on the front porch, hoping against hope for his return.  And that is how the father was able to spot his son when he was still far off.  The father was filled with compassion.  He ran and put his arms around his beloved son and kissed him.  He gave him a robe and a ring and invited all the neighbors to the party of a lifetime.   And the father’s response to the older brother’s cold self-righteousness was essentially the same.  The father went out in the middle of his party - abandoning his guests and his celebration - in order to coax and plead with this beloved son to come inside and join the feast.  "My Son, you have always been with me, and all that is mine is yours!” This is prodigal love.   Exceedingly and recklessly wasteful by the world’s standards.  Given to children who don’t deserve it or even want it. And extremely generous, which is God’s standard.  Given to children that are beloved, no matter what. The Pharisees and scribes listening to Jesus’ story probably expected It to end with some sort of condemnation. But this isn’t a story about who’s in and who’s out; who’s a sinner and who’s righteous; or even who’s lost and who’s found.  This isn’t a story that condemns. It’s a story about a God whose theme song is Amazing Grace.  There is nothing discouraging about this story. Once there was a God who has always been with us, and all that is God’s is ours, including God’s very self.  God waits on the front porch keeping vigil and will never stop searching for any of us, no matter how far we wander or how we take that love for granted.  With enough love and blessing for all, God continues to include us in the celebration, no matter how we ignore or refuse the invitation.  Not because of anything we do or anything we are.  But because that is who God is. Amen.