A Father and Two Sons -- Fourth Sunday in Lent

 Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

March 27, 2022

            We adopted our little cat, Pippin, when we lived in Oklahoma. He died last year, and we still miss him terribly. But while he was alive, he drove us nuts. When we were still in Oklahoma, we tried to let him be an indoor and an outdoor cat. He loved to step out into the fresh air and explore the yard. Our neighbor at the time, fed all the stray cats that used to wander through the neighborhood, so there were always plenty of other potential friends that would beckon him to come and play. For a while, it seemed that Pippin going outside was going to be a good thing. I could let him out first thing in the morning. When it was time to leave for school and work, I would call for him, and he would come bounding toward me, ready to come inside, eat, and take his morning nap. No problem. Until one morning, when I called him, and he didn’t come running. I called and I called, and I called again. No Pippin. I wasn't too worried. I figured by the time I came home for lunch he'd be waiting for me at the back door.

Lunch came. No Pippin. I called and called again. I walked all around our yard looking for him. Was he back behind the shed? Nope. Was he hiding under the bush he loved? No. No Pippin. When the kids came home from school, they went looking for him. Across the little side street from our house, there was an overgrown wooded area where there used to be a neighborhood pool. Phoebe and Zach walked down that path and they heard this pitiful crying. Pippin had been scared up into a tree by some dogs, and he was meowing and crying. We tried to coax him down. It didn’t work. We put food out for him, and that didn’t bring him down.

I put out a plea for ideas on social media. I got plenty of suggestions, but none of them helped. In fact, some people teased me about it, thinking I was foolish for worrying. A cat can go up a tree, and a cat can come down a tree. I called the fire department. They basically said the same thing. He’ll come down when he’s ready.

But you need to understand, Pippin was in that tree for close to 36 hours. He was there from the time I let him out that morning, that whole night, and into the next day. I kept waking up during the night thinking I heard him at the door, and then I would call him again, not caring if I woke the neighbors, hoping he had finally figured out how to come down.

The next afternoon, a friend and her husband came over to help us. They put a ladder against the tree, which was covered in overgrown brambles. She climbed up the ladder, almost falling a couple of times and scaring us half to death. But she managed to reach Pippin and got our very hungry and very scared cat out of the tree. We all rejoiced. The cat was lost, but then he was found. P.S. Pippin was not an outside cat after that.

            Jesus understood the joy at finding what was lost. He told three parables about being lost and found. As so often happened when Jesus came calling, tax collectors and sinners were coming to be near to Jesus and to listen to him. The Pharisees and the scribes who were also near Jesus weren't happy about that. They were grumbling and grousing.

            "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them."

            Jesus responded to their grumbling with three parables. We only read one of them this morning, but here’s a quick recap. The first was about a lost sheep. There were 100 sheep, but one had wandered away and was lost. The shepherd left the other 99, not in the safety of the fold but in the wilderness, to go looking for the one. When the shepherd found the lost sheep, he laid it across his shoulders and rejoiced. When he had gotten the sheep safely home, he called together his friends and his neighbors, and they rejoiced with him.

            Jesus rounded off this first parable by saying,

            Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.”

            The second thing to be lost was a thing: a coin. A woman had ten coins, but she lost one. We might not fret over one coin, but we are not this woman. She did not shrug her shoulders and say, "Oh well. It's just a coin." No, she lit the lamp and swept the house. She searched every corner until she found the coin. Then she called together her friends and neighbors and said,

"Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost."

Again, Jesus told those listening, "Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents."

            The third parable, our parable, was about a father and two sons. The younger son went to his father and asked him for his share of the inheritance. Now. Why should I wait till you're dead, Dad? I’d like my money now, please. So, the father divided his property between his two sons and gave the youngest his share. The minute the money was his, the son took off. He went to a far country and proceeded to have a very, very good time.

But as so often happens, the money ran out. And when the money ran out, the good times ran out as well. Now what would the younger son do? He had wasted his fortune. A terrible famine had taken over the land. The only means he had to survive was to become a hired hand, feeding pigs in the fields. I suspect that like Jesus and those around him, the father and sons were observant Jews, so not only had this younger son wasted his fortune and his life to that point on dissolute living, now he was forced to feed animals that were considered unclean. This was a comeuppance indeed.

This younger son was so hungry and desperate that even the pig food looked good. And then something happened. He came to himself. Maybe that means he realized what a fool he’d been, how he had squandered his money, his talent, his happiness. Maybe he woke up from something like a dream and saw the full reality of his life. Maybe, like someone struggling with an addiction, he had reached rock bottom and knew it. Whatever realization took hold of him, he came to himself. And he thought about the hired hands that worked for his father who plenty of bread and more to eat. And this younger son decided to go home. But he knew what a mess he had made of everything. He figured that he might not be welcome. So, he rehearsed what he would say to his dad when he saw him.

            "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands."

            Ready with these words of contrition and remorse, the son got up and went home. But he never got to give the full speech he had prepared. While he was still far off, his father saw him. His father ran to him. His father pulled him into his arms and hugged him.

The son started to give the speech he had practiced. But his father didn't seem to hear his words. He just called to his slaves to bring out the best robe and put a ring on his son's finger. Put sandals on his feet. Kill the fatted calf. Let us eat and celebrate! My son was dead, but he is alive! My son was lost, but he is found.

            If Jesus had stuck with the formula of the first two parables, this would have been the ending. But this third parable takes a different and unexpected twist. Because remember, this was a father with two sons. The younger was home again, no longer dead but alive; no longer lost but found. But there was an elder brother. The elder brother came in from working in the fields, and he heard the music and dancing. He asked a slave what was going on, why the celebration? When the slave told him, the older brother was furious. He refused to go inside and join the party His father came out to him and begged him to come inside. But the son answered his father's pleas with bitterness.

            "Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!"

            But his father would not be deterred.

"Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found."

            By all accounts, the eldest son has a valid point. The youngest son was selfish, a bad son, and not a nice person in general. And the father was foolish. When his youngest son came demanding his inheritance, which was as good as saying, "Drop dead, Dad,” the father gave it to him anyway. When the youngest son wasted everything, and returned, tail between his legs, he should have been greeted with anger and disappointment. The father should have at least demanded that the son pay back all that he owed him. But that foolish father threw a party instead. Well of course the older son was angry. What reward did he receive for being the good kid? What parties were thrown in his honor because he did what was expected of him? Had I been sitting with the others around Jesus, Pharisees and tax collectors, scribes, and sinners, I imagine I would have shaken my head at this father with two sons.

            But remember how Jesus ended the first two parables? When a sheep was found, they all rejoiced. When a coin was reclaimed, they all rejoiced. But when this son, this father's child, was found, there was only anger and bitterness. The eldest son could hear the music and celebration, but he wouldn't, he couldn’t join the party.

            Jesus didn't tell parables as bedtime stories. He didn't tell parables to make those listening feel happy and warm. He told them to make a point. He told parables to surprise and shock and even dismay. This third parable is really about as shocking as they come. But we have heard it so many times that its shock value has become dulled. We've domesticated it to a nice story about a father forgiving a son.

            Yet how foolish was that father? He not only welcomed back this wasteful son with open arms, but he also gave him the means to be wasteful in the first place! He was as foolish as a shepherd who leaves 99 sheep in the wilderness to look for the lost one. He was as foolish as a woman who had nine coins accounted for but went through the entire house looking for the lost one. He was as foolish as a God who becomes human to gather up his lost people. He was as foolish as a savior who was willing to die on a cross.

            That's the thing about grace. It's not only unfair, but it also seems downright foolish. Yet how grateful we are for such foolishness when we are on the receiving end of grace. What I've learned in my life is that the line between the younger son and the eldest is a fine one. I have been that prodigal, astounded at being welcomed home with open arms. I have been that youngest son, celebrating and rejoicing at the grace and forgiveness that's been given me. I have been lost and I have been found. But I have also been that older brother, angry and insulted that foolish grace is shown to someone else so undeserving of it. In fact, I think I've been the eldest brother more often than I've been the prodigal.

            Here's the thing. The father welcomed his lost son home with open arms, whether it was foolish or not. It was his choice. The eldest son also had a choice. He could forgive his younger brother. He could forgive his father's foolishness. He could join the party. The only thing keeping him out of the celebration was him.

            Of the three parables, this one is left unresolved. We don't know what choice the older brother made. We don't know what happened next. It seems to me that that was the point. Jesus told this parable and left it unresolved and unfinished because it was up to his listeners to finish it for themselves. What choice would the Pharisees and the scribes and all the other so-called righteous people make? What choice will we make? Will we show others the foolish grace shown us? Or will we refuse to forgive the wrongs done to us? Will we hold onto the bitterness and anger we feel? We can hear the music, we know there is dancing, but will we join the party?

            Let all of God's children say, "Amen."