The prodigality of God
Commentary
The word prodigality carries a dual meaning in English. It can mean either wasteful extravagance or extravagant generosity. The younger brother, whom we traditionally call the prodigal son, squandered his property in a reckless way. The father acts and reacts with a munificence that far exceeds conventional expectations and triggers an angry reaction from the elder brother, with whom many of us have much in common. This is a story of the Divine/human drama that is timeless and forever timely. It is a story the preacher can return to time and again and always be grasped by some new insight.
The shocking and surprising generosity of God that Jesus describes in his parable Paul proclaims in the epistle reading for today. It is a fine choice to accompany the day's gospel reading, but I personally would give the preaching nod to the parable of the prodigal God.
It is difficult to comprehend the choice of Joshua 5:9-12 as the Old Testament lesson. The text notes the end of the wilderness experience as the nomads became settlers living off the produce of the land rather than manna. This is also the last public observance of the Passover until the time of the kingdom. Does the recollection of this fact lie in the background of the words of Jesus in Luke 22:16?
Sermon Seeds In The Lessons
Joshua 5:9-12
If the parable is chosen as the sermon basis, an alternate choice of reading could well be supplied by the apocryphal book of Sirach (Ecclesiasticus), Sirach 33:19-23. Reflected here is the social protocol and wisdom the father in the parable ignored when he agreed to the unheard-of request of the younger brother and divided the property between both sons (Luke 15:12). Pointing this out will be a help to the congregation in seeing the scandalous nature of the father's action and lay the groundwork for later comment on the trouble we have in coming to terms with the graciousness of the God whose ways are not our ways and whose thoughts are not our thoughts.
2 Corinthians 5:16-21
The public ministry of Jesus defines God's atoning and reconciling work that is now the vocation of the church. One of the great texts of the New Testament crops up here: "In Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us" (5:19). I recall hearing a memorable sermon on this text delivered by George MacCloud of the Iona Community. A powerful illustration he used to describe the staggering dimensions of God's grace usward drew an analogy from mother love via a startling story/poem. The poem opened with the line, "There once was a lad, and a lad so trim, who gave his love to her who loved not him." In the unfolding story the lad who would do anything to please the one who did not return his love was ordered by her to tear out his mother's heart that she might feed it to her dog. He did the terrible deed and as he was running back with the heart in his hands, he stumbled and fell. The heart rolled out on the ground. The closing line remains etched in my memory. "But look you, the heart was speaking. Are you hurt, my child, are you hurt?"
Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
The opening verses of chapter 15 tell us that Jesus told the ensuing parables for the benefit of his critics who grumbled about the kind of people he welcomed into table fellowship. Remember that those classified as sinners were people who did not meet the litmus tests set down by an exclusionary piety. The way Jesus ignored the walls sanctioned by dogma carried implications that many found threatening, and do so even today.
The best outline for a sermon is the natural flow of the parable. The action begins with the request of the younger son for his share of the estate that would come to him. This was an unheard-of insult for the request implies he wishes his father were dead. The father had every right to be angry and take punitive action. Neither conventional wisdom as reflected in the reading from Sirach nor the law supported such a request. Land could not be transferred before death. If money was dispensed anything it earned belonged to the father. The community at large would expect the father to refuse such a request. But this is the father whose ways are quite different. The unprecedented action of dividing the property not only with the younger son but with his brother no doubt became an occasion for criticism and gossip in the community. But this father coerces no one to remain in his house apart from their own free choice. A sermon spark has just leaped out of the narrative.
Pastoral sensitivity will also recognize at this point that there may well be among the listening congregation those who find the parable touching their own experience. There are some times when as a parent all you can do is watch and wait with silent tears in your heart.
The son leaves home and we are told he goes to a distant country. Many young people in those days were drawn by the promise and prosperity of the mercantile cities of the Levant. But geography is not important. The emphasis falls on distance, separation from the father's household. The distant country is a condition as much as it is a place. The parable tells us he lived recklessly, like a spendthrift, in his new surroundings. The Greek words do not support the elder brother's later charge that he consorted with prostitutes.
The younger son goes broke just as a famine breaks out. So he hires out to one of the local citizens who gives him the worst job a Jew could undertake, feeding pigs. He is now ritually unclean and in Gentile territory where the Sabbath is never observed. He is a non-person in an alien world. He realizes that as he comes to his senses and works out a plan. The thing for the expositor to note about the plan is that any Pharisee would recognize it as an act of repentance, something he will do by himself to regain his place in the community that he has lost. He will acknowledge his offense to his father and community, ask for a paying job so he can live in town, and work his way out of financial ruin and social stigma. Any Jewish father could be expected to accept these terms, give a lecture, and put his son on probation.
But again this is not just any father. He sees the son from afar and in a way unbecoming to an older man runs out and gives him a public welcome fit for a returning hero. It is important to catch the significance of this. Hometown boys who return in disgrace generally just slink into town. They have a lot of negative comment to face. The father is saying something to the whole community. He kisses his son, a greeting given only to equals. He honors him with a ceremonial robe. He puts a ring on his finger, a sign of authority. He places shoes on his feet, the sign of a free man. He orders a gala feast with music. The choice of a fatted calf sounds like the whole village is expected. The younger son recognizes this unmerited grace and enters into the joy of his father. What a beautiful snapshot of God we have in this scene.
But the scene suddenly changes. Word has come that the elder son is sulking outside in the shadows when he should have been greeting the guests on behalf of the family. Again the father is unpredictable, instead of ordering this son who is lost in another way to come in, he goes out into the damp of the evening. Compare the complaint of the elder brother with the kind of grumbling we can hear about affirmative action programs.
Who is this elder brother anyway? The Pharisees who couldn't understand this Jesus who feasted with sinners? Certainly! But here is the question to pose to the congregation. Is he us? How do we answer? Here is the hook in the parable: Are we the ones sulking in the dark?
And what about the teller of this parable, Jesus? Shortly he will be where the father in the parable is, out in the darkness where the children of God rebel against him. He will be hanging on the cross. His only response will be words of grace, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do."
The shocking and surprising generosity of God that Jesus describes in his parable Paul proclaims in the epistle reading for today. It is a fine choice to accompany the day's gospel reading, but I personally would give the preaching nod to the parable of the prodigal God.
It is difficult to comprehend the choice of Joshua 5:9-12 as the Old Testament lesson. The text notes the end of the wilderness experience as the nomads became settlers living off the produce of the land rather than manna. This is also the last public observance of the Passover until the time of the kingdom. Does the recollection of this fact lie in the background of the words of Jesus in Luke 22:16?
Sermon Seeds In The Lessons
Joshua 5:9-12
If the parable is chosen as the sermon basis, an alternate choice of reading could well be supplied by the apocryphal book of Sirach (Ecclesiasticus), Sirach 33:19-23. Reflected here is the social protocol and wisdom the father in the parable ignored when he agreed to the unheard-of request of the younger brother and divided the property between both sons (Luke 15:12). Pointing this out will be a help to the congregation in seeing the scandalous nature of the father's action and lay the groundwork for later comment on the trouble we have in coming to terms with the graciousness of the God whose ways are not our ways and whose thoughts are not our thoughts.
2 Corinthians 5:16-21
The public ministry of Jesus defines God's atoning and reconciling work that is now the vocation of the church. One of the great texts of the New Testament crops up here: "In Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us" (5:19). I recall hearing a memorable sermon on this text delivered by George MacCloud of the Iona Community. A powerful illustration he used to describe the staggering dimensions of God's grace usward drew an analogy from mother love via a startling story/poem. The poem opened with the line, "There once was a lad, and a lad so trim, who gave his love to her who loved not him." In the unfolding story the lad who would do anything to please the one who did not return his love was ordered by her to tear out his mother's heart that she might feed it to her dog. He did the terrible deed and as he was running back with the heart in his hands, he stumbled and fell. The heart rolled out on the ground. The closing line remains etched in my memory. "But look you, the heart was speaking. Are you hurt, my child, are you hurt?"
Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
The opening verses of chapter 15 tell us that Jesus told the ensuing parables for the benefit of his critics who grumbled about the kind of people he welcomed into table fellowship. Remember that those classified as sinners were people who did not meet the litmus tests set down by an exclusionary piety. The way Jesus ignored the walls sanctioned by dogma carried implications that many found threatening, and do so even today.
The best outline for a sermon is the natural flow of the parable. The action begins with the request of the younger son for his share of the estate that would come to him. This was an unheard-of insult for the request implies he wishes his father were dead. The father had every right to be angry and take punitive action. Neither conventional wisdom as reflected in the reading from Sirach nor the law supported such a request. Land could not be transferred before death. If money was dispensed anything it earned belonged to the father. The community at large would expect the father to refuse such a request. But this is the father whose ways are quite different. The unprecedented action of dividing the property not only with the younger son but with his brother no doubt became an occasion for criticism and gossip in the community. But this father coerces no one to remain in his house apart from their own free choice. A sermon spark has just leaped out of the narrative.
Pastoral sensitivity will also recognize at this point that there may well be among the listening congregation those who find the parable touching their own experience. There are some times when as a parent all you can do is watch and wait with silent tears in your heart.
The son leaves home and we are told he goes to a distant country. Many young people in those days were drawn by the promise and prosperity of the mercantile cities of the Levant. But geography is not important. The emphasis falls on distance, separation from the father's household. The distant country is a condition as much as it is a place. The parable tells us he lived recklessly, like a spendthrift, in his new surroundings. The Greek words do not support the elder brother's later charge that he consorted with prostitutes.
The younger son goes broke just as a famine breaks out. So he hires out to one of the local citizens who gives him the worst job a Jew could undertake, feeding pigs. He is now ritually unclean and in Gentile territory where the Sabbath is never observed. He is a non-person in an alien world. He realizes that as he comes to his senses and works out a plan. The thing for the expositor to note about the plan is that any Pharisee would recognize it as an act of repentance, something he will do by himself to regain his place in the community that he has lost. He will acknowledge his offense to his father and community, ask for a paying job so he can live in town, and work his way out of financial ruin and social stigma. Any Jewish father could be expected to accept these terms, give a lecture, and put his son on probation.
But again this is not just any father. He sees the son from afar and in a way unbecoming to an older man runs out and gives him a public welcome fit for a returning hero. It is important to catch the significance of this. Hometown boys who return in disgrace generally just slink into town. They have a lot of negative comment to face. The father is saying something to the whole community. He kisses his son, a greeting given only to equals. He honors him with a ceremonial robe. He puts a ring on his finger, a sign of authority. He places shoes on his feet, the sign of a free man. He orders a gala feast with music. The choice of a fatted calf sounds like the whole village is expected. The younger son recognizes this unmerited grace and enters into the joy of his father. What a beautiful snapshot of God we have in this scene.
But the scene suddenly changes. Word has come that the elder son is sulking outside in the shadows when he should have been greeting the guests on behalf of the family. Again the father is unpredictable, instead of ordering this son who is lost in another way to come in, he goes out into the damp of the evening. Compare the complaint of the elder brother with the kind of grumbling we can hear about affirmative action programs.
Who is this elder brother anyway? The Pharisees who couldn't understand this Jesus who feasted with sinners? Certainly! But here is the question to pose to the congregation. Is he us? How do we answer? Here is the hook in the parable: Are we the ones sulking in the dark?
And what about the teller of this parable, Jesus? Shortly he will be where the father in the parable is, out in the darkness where the children of God rebel against him. He will be hanging on the cross. His only response will be words of grace, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do."
