Has something ever happened to you that you thought was totally unfair?
Have you ever gotten a traffic ticket or punished as a child and thought, “I didn’t deserve this”?
Was someone else rewarded and praised for work that you did?
In today’s gospel reading, we read about a younger son who wished that his father was dead so that he could have his share of the inheritance.
To our surprise, the Father gave it to him. And, though, he quickly squandered it, the Father welcomed him back home.
This upset the older son who was obedient, faithful, and took care of his father. To this son, it all seemed unfair.
But this brings us to the Good News: God, like the father in the passage, doesn’t act justly by judging us as we deserve . . . instead, God has mercy on us!
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Today’s Gospel lesson is often referred to as the “Prodigal Son.” In fact, this title has become so connected to this passage that the church also called today, “the Sunday of the Prodigal Son.”
But I think the passage should be referred to as the “Merciful Father” because this is where the greater surprise and the good news is found!
It’s no surprise that his son squandered his wealth and ended up in poverty.
It’s also no surprise that he tried to scheme his way back into his father’s house as a hired servant.
This story cycle—fall from grace, trickery, and looking for redemption—is found all throughout the Bible.
What’s surprising in this passage is the fact that the father welcomes the son back home.
Think about it.
The father had essentially been told by his own son that it was better if he were dead . . . so that the son can “get rich quick.”
The son didn’t deserve to get his inheritance early, but the father had grace on him. He gave it to his son out of love
I imagine that the father felt a lot of shame.
What would he tell his friends if they found out how his son was living?
What would he say when he went to synagogue?
How could he show his face in public?
By all rights, the son didn’t deserve to be welcomed back home by the father.
What he deserved, and justly so, was to be thrown out . . . to be left to his own devices.
He had made his bed and it was time for him to sleep in it.
So, when the father runs out to greet him—and good ancient, Middle-Eastern fathers don’t run—and then puts a ring and robe on him, and then slaughters a lamb to throw a feast, this is not at all what we expect.
The story is told so that you will judge the father.
Jesus wants you to judge him.
He wants you to realize the father is not acting rationally here.
After all, St. Paul once said that people who act like this son should be thrown out of the community and given over to the destruction of satan! (see 1 Corinthians 5:4-5)
But, as you consider the father’s actions and St. Paul’s words, you begin to realize . . .
Maybe, the father was acting out of mercy rather than asking for a sacrifice?
Maybe, the younger son—the one who didn’t deserve mercy—will be all the better because of the father’s mercy?
Maybe . . . just maybe . . . we too are a prodigal son?
And, maybe . . . just maybe . . . it’s a good thing that God is like this father because it means that we too have a chance to be welcomed into God’s household.
In any case, one of the hymns from this Sunday tells us this is who we are: a prodigal in need of God’s mercy.
Good Father, I made myself distant from You; do not forsake me, nor show me to be useless in Your kingdom. The vile enemy has denuded me; he has taken my wealth. The gifts of my soul I have squandered with abandon. So, having arisen, once again I return to You and cry, “Treat me as one of Your hirelings.” For
me You stretched out Your pure hands upon the cross to snatch me from the fearsome beast, and to vest me with that former dignified apparel, for You alone are great in mercy. (Triodion Stichera from the Praises; AGES DCS)
But why would God do this?
You may not feel worthy of God’s mercy.
So, why would God welcome us home if we’ve squandered our inheritance?
Because God promised, long ago, that he would—that’s why!
When God made the covenant with Abraham, he promised to make us all his children. Abraham was to become the father of many nations.
And nothing . . . and I mean nothing . . . can undo a promise made by God, not even the Law.
The Law—the one given to Moses at Sinai—created the nation of Israel. It created a “chosen people,” and this makes it look like God has decided that only Israelites would be his people.
But that’s not the case. The Law, the creation of Israel, did not mean that God forgot about the rest of creation.
He did not forget about you . . . reading this today.
St. Paul spells this out very nicely.
My friends, I am going to use an everyday example: when two people agree on a matter and sign an agreement, no one can break it or add anything to it. Now, God made his promises to Abraham and to his descendant. The scripture does not use the plural “descendants,” meaning many people, but the singular “descendant,” meaning one person only, namely, Christ. What I mean is that God made a covenant with Abraham and promised to keep it. The Law, which was given four hundred and thirty years later, cannot break that covenant and cancel God’s promise. For if God’s gift depends on the Law, then it no longer depends on his promise. However, it was because of his promise that God gave that gift to Abraham. (Galatians 3:15-18 GNT)
God made a promise and he’s sticking to it.
What’s that promise again?
[That] . . . the gift which is promised on the basis of faith in Jesus Christ is given to those who believe. . . . It is through faith that all of you are God’s children in union with Christ Jesus. You were baptized into union with Christ, and now you are clothed, so to speak, with the life of Christ himself. So there is no difference between Jews and Gentiles, between slaves and free people, between men and women; you are all one in union with Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are the descendants of Abraham and will receive what God has promised. (Galatians 3:22, 27-29 GNT)
All this also explains why the father had mercy on the prodigal son.
The father had promised his son an inheritance. This means that the prodigal is a son, no matter what.
It couldn’t be otherwise in biblical culture because only a son could inherit.
So, because the prodigal did inherit, he was his father’s son, welcomed to be a member of the family, even if he didn’t act like one.
To the older brother this seemed unfair.
To outsiders, it seems as if the father is crazy.
But, as we think about it, it makes sense. The father is sticking to his promise that the prodigal is a son and nothing less
If he acted justly, we would be thrown out of the kingdom for misbehaving . . . but God doesn’t do that.
He has promised us an inheritance through our faith in Christ, so he will always lovingly welcome us home and call us his child.
This, my friends, is the Good News
So, I’m wondering . . .
In what ways have you squandered your inheritance from God?
How have you, like the prodigal, tried to return home on your own terms rather than allowing the Father to welcome you?
How can you pay the mercy that God has shown you forward to others?