Eagerly Awaiting the Return

PROPERS:          4 LENT, YEAR C         

TEXT:                LUKE 15:1-3, 11b-32             

PREACHED AT ST. PAUL’S CHAPEL, MAGNOLIA SPRINGS, ON SUNDAY, MARCH 27, 2022.

 

ONE SENTENCE:        The graciousness of God is never-ending and relentless; it seeks us out.

 

            Our gospel lesson today is one of Jesus’ most memorable stories – along with the Parable of the Good Samaritan. Today’s gospel, The Parable of the Prodigal Son, is one we have heard since the days of childhood.

 

            From it’s first telling, it has touched the hearts of many.  Rembrandt’s famous depiction is among 13 million images it has prompted over the millennia. A statue of the father embracing his wayward son was chiseled for the 1939 World’s Fair and now stands in the Bishop’s Garden at Washington National Cathedral.

 

            The noted Dutch priest, Henri Nouwen, wrote one of his most moving works in The Return of the Prodigal Son.

 

            The parable itself is a story which truly touches many hearts.  And there are multiple ways in which it resonates with us.  The wayward son who acts as if his father is dead.  The wayward son going to a far land.  The prodigal wasting all his resources. The penitent son returning home hat in hand. The gracious, loving father. The angry brother, resenting his brother’s welcome return, as if his faithfulness all the years had been overlooked.  Those are just a few layers.

 

            The parable is like an onion.  Each layer that we peel off reveals another layer.  The core is always elusive because we are distracted by our own self-description among the layers.

 

            Yet there is one fleeting image which sticks with me.  It stands out.  It tells us so much about God… and invites us to imitate the divine nature.

 

            Let me summarize the story, and then point out the glimpse of grace which I see.

 

            A father has two sons.  The younger one asks the father for his inheritance – even though the father is still alive, and even though the younger son is not the rightful heir.  It is a slap in the father’s face. 

 

The father acquiesces and gives the son half of his belongings.  The young son travels to a far land and wastes all his inheritance. Broke and lost, he finds himself feeding pigs – an awful task for a faithful Jew.  At wit’s end and wallowing in pig slop, he decides to go home and throw himself at his father’s mercy.

 

            Likely you know the rest. But there is one brief passage which stands out to me.  It is simple, poignant, and powerful: “But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.”

 

            The father not only greets the son; he was yearning for his return.  He was looking longingly out the window, hoping for his lost son’s return. The love for which the wayward son hungered was always there.  The forgiveness is prevenient if you will.  The father yearns to forgive and be reconciled as much as the wandering son.

 

            It is terribly difficult, maybe even impossible, for us to imagine the depths of divine grace.  We have no human analogue.  We think we understand it, but from the first days of the church’s history, we have been placing restrictions on that mercy.  It is there in the Book of Acts, and it is there in church history.  We are humanly unable to accept or offer such divine generosity.

 

            There are situations at which we find ourselves at the end of a rope, exhausted by having forgiven, forgiven, and forgiven.  You know those situations.  Someone has taken advantage of you or your good heart.

 

Maybe even it is yourself or another person.  We cannot go on – we give up on ourselves or another person.  You say enough is enough. 

 

I have done that myself.  Sometimes we do that to preserve our sanity.

 

            But we should always be mindful, that is not the way of God.  It is a fact of our human nature – one of brokenness and sin.  And it is always a tragedy – a failure or inability to meet the magnanimity of God. Maybe it is the best of unappealing options, but it reflects an absence of hope, and denial of the fullness of God’s mercy.

 

            The divine nature is without any qualification – it is exceedingly generous.  It goes beyond our ability to comprehend. As you face those human limits and strain against them, hold on to the image of God standing at the window, hoping for reconciliation and reunion.