Year C Lent 4 , 30 March 2025
St James the Less Episcopal, Ashland, VA
“He Ran”
Collect: Gracious Father, whose blessed Son Jesus Christ came down from heaven to be the true bread which gives life to the world: Evermore give us this bread, that he may live in us, and we in him; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
2 Corinthians 5:16-21
From now on, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way. If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
All the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to Jesus. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them."
So Jesus told them this parable:
"There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, 'Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.' So he divided his property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. But when he came to himself he said, 'How many of my father's hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to 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."' So he set off and went to his father. 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. Then the son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.' But the father said to his slaves, 'Quickly, bring out a robe--the best one--and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!' And they began to celebrate.
"Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. He replied, 'Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.' Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, '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!' Then the father said to him, '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.'"
Even people who have never stepped into a church have heard of the Prodigal Son. It is a part of our language and our culture. Prodigal comes from the same root as prodigious. It could mean “lavish” in a somewhat positive sense, or “wasteful” in the negative.
And the younger son was certainly that. Having had the audacity to ask his father for his share, a minority one, of his inheritance before his father was dead, he took the money and lived prodigiously in a foreign land. No rules, no family reputation to reunion, no expectations, he lived with no regrets and with no accountability. Crazy and wild, until there was nothing left. A good Jewish boy had fallen so low, he ended up feeding livestock. And not just any livestock, pigs. We cannot miss this crucial detail because Jesus was portraying this young man as despicably as he could.
In a patriarchal society, he basically said to his dad, “I wish you were dead. Give me my share of the inheritance.” Horrible.
He lived as a degenerate, wild and loose, dishonoring himself, his family, and his people. Horrible.
When forced to work after having lost everything his future was counting on, he feeds pigs. And he has fallen so low, he considers eating the slop, the unclean animals leftovers for survival. Utterly horrible.
What can he do?
They say Home is where you are always welcome. He thinks on what he threw away, and decides that even if he crawls back in utter humiliation it would be better than what he has. I love how Jesus tells the story here:
But when he came to himself he said, 'How many of my father's hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to 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."' So he set off and went to his father.
“When he came to himself.” This younger son, the one who sinned so boldly, came to himself. He himself was not this degenerate sinner envying hogs their slop. He was born to be better, he was better in his deepest and truest self. He had fallen, but he knew that he could pick himself up, maybe not to lift himself back to where he was, but at least better than where he hit bottom because “he came to himself.”
How often do we paint the picture of people at their worst? We force them to stay there. We do not ignore what was done, but we do not define them for life for one moment. We are all a collection of all of our experiences and triumphs and failures, a collage of all that life throws at us. So often once labeled, there can be no redemption.
In The Shawshank Redemption, the character Red played by Morgan Freeman is up for parole for a murder he committed in his youth.
Parole Board Man: Ellis Boyd Redding, your files say you've served 40 years of a life sentence. Do you feel you've been rehabilitated?
Red: Rehabilitated? Well, now let me see. You know, I don't have any idea what that means.
Parole Board Man: Well, it means that you're ready to rejoin society...
Red: I know what you think it means, sonny. To me, it's just a made up word. A politician's word, so young fellas like yourself can wear a suit and a tie, and have a job. What do you really want to know? Am I sorry for what I did?
Parole Board Man: Well, are you?
Red: There's not a day goes by I don't feel regret. Not because I'm in here, because you think I should. I look back on the way I was then: a young, stupid kid who committed that terrible crime. I want to talk to him. I want to try to talk some sense to him, tell him the way things are. But I can't. That kid's long gone, and this old man is all that's left. I got to live with that. Rehabilitated? It's just a ***** word.
Rehabilitated means one has done the work. What Red needed, from the parole board and from himself was Redemption. And for Redemption to come, Grace must be given.
You may think of Jesus as many things, but a genius study of human nature is probably not near the top of your list. But how he phrases this, how he poses the younger son’s situation, it is so real and so true we can picture it clearly 2,000 years later no matter our class, culture, or context.
And for 2,000 years we have celebrated this picture of Grace, much like the fig tree in last week’s parable. We all want love to win, and we want wholeness and forgiveness to be given. And so the story shifts perspective. Whereas we had been following the younger son, we now shift to the dad. Abba, daddy, the one who has the chance to give and model redemption.
We know what is coming. The dad will say welcome, kills the fatted calf, gives him a ring and a robe, and a party is thrown. There is joy and celebration because Grace reigns and has the last say.
But we miss the lavishness, the parable could just as well have been called the Prodigal Father. Not for the party, the robe, or the ring, but for the prodigious love showered and the lack of decorum he shows in receiving his son.
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.
This one, a proud and assumably well-to-do farmer hugged and kissed his missing son. But the detail that jumps out for me might seem like no big deal. But the point where we see the father being Prodigal is that instead of being the stately man of wealth he forgets all that, and he ran.
He ran.
Proud and well-to-do folks do not run. This dad did. He did not care how he looked, he could not get to his son who, as if dead to him, was home. Home is where you are always welcome. Nothing could slow him. Not cultural expectations, no judgments of his workers or neighbors, NOTHING could slow him running to give Grace.
This story gives a phrase that we associate with Grace ever since, and we incorporated them into our hymn of Grace.
…This son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me,
I once was lost, but now am found…
So often we want to stop the story there, with the party and celebration. Henri Nouwen in his wonderful book, The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming, talks about every one of us is the Prodigal, for we all are in need of Grace and redemption from that worst, that sinful part of ourselves. He also says, that all of us are, or can be, the Father as well. Giving Grace, throwing decorum and honor to the wind to bring wholeness and healing to those who so need it.
But the third player in the tale is the one who is the least comfortable, the Older Son. And the perspective shifts again. Nouwen says that we are like him as well. We are not bad, we are not lavish in forgiveness, but we have done what we are supposed to have done and we are resentful. We did not run off. No party is thrown for us. We work ourselves sick, seeing somebody getting away with something from our perspective. We don’t join in the celebration. We stand back, bitter, angry, and apart.
When the Prodigal Father comes out, he invites his oldest into a different way of being. Grace extends both ways. In receiving Grace we come to life again, in giving Grace we truly become like Christ, the one who redeems and receives, the one who forgives and frees.
The father even reminds his oldest that the other son, he has nothing. He will have nothing. He got his stuff, but as long as he breathes the father will give him love and celebrate that he has a son.
Then the father said to him, “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.”
Friends, we can remain apart from Grace in our self-righteousness. And what a loss that will be. Following the Law, the older son is correct, and miserable. Following Christ’s New Law of Love, we can let go of all the things that keep us from fullness of relationship and wholeness of life. “A new commandment I give unto you that you should love one another as I have loved you.”
This Lent, remember the story, the whole story. May we live fully into this gift and this life of Grace that we have been given. Amen