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August 9, 2009
Looking for Jesus in the Parable of the Prodigal
a sermon on Luke 15.1-2, 11-32
by David C. Mauldin
Westminster Presbyterian Church, Mobile, Alabama
A generation or two ago, C.S. Lewis made a simple and compelling case for Christian faith. He argued that Jesus was a liar, a lunatic, or the Lord. Take your pick. It has to be one of these three because if you look at Jesus’ teachings and who he claimed to be, he doesn’t leave you any other options. Jesus told people he was God. Therefore, he must be either insane or a scoundrel … or he really is God. Lewis invited skeptics to read the gospels for themselves and decide if they thought Jesus was crooked or crazy. Very few who read the gospels reach either conclusion. Therefore, said Lewis, you ought to consider whether the only other option might be true: Jesus really is, in the words of doubting Thomas, our Lord and our God.
In our day that line of reasoning is not nearly as compelling as it once was. Why? Because today’s skeptic who is running from Jesus has invented a clever new dodge. Call it a fourth option alongside Lewis’s three. It is this: Jesus never claimed to be God. Instead he was grossly misrepresented by the Christians who wrote the gospels. They put words into his mouth he would have been horrified to utter.
What gives this argument a persuasive force is the subtlety with which Jesus’ announces himself in the gospels. Even in the gospels, he didn’t run around all the time shouting, “Hey, look at me! I’m God!” In John’s gospel he gets close to that at certain carefully selected moments. But for the most part he proclaimed the kingdom of God and gradually, carefully revealed who he is, mostly to his disciples, but also to others.
So the skeptic denies Jesus’ claim to divinity and gains a bit of wiggle room. Now Jesus is either God Almighty or his later followers put words in his mouth, and which is more likely?
Unfortunately for anyone trying to hide from Jesus, this argument fails. Jesus really did claim he was God. We know this not only because of the relatively few times he made that claim explicitly, but also because of the things he did and the stories he told. For example, Jesus went around forgiving sins. The religious leaders considered it blasphemy. Who can forgive sins but God alone? That’s the point in the story about Jesus healing a paralytic after forgiving him.
Just as important as his actions are the stories he told, his parables. Each parable was a kind of map that illustrated who Jesus thought he was and who he thought his critics were. In the parable of the wicked tenants, for example, the owner of the vineyard sends his son to collect the rent and the wicked tenants kill him. Jesus is obviously the son in the story, and God is the Father. Jesus does not portray himself as a servant. In his story the prophets are servants. He is the Son.
Something similar happens in the parable of the prodigal son. Yes, it is a story about grace—grace received and grace denied—but you have to remember why Jesus told the story in the first place. And by the way, no serious scholar doubts this parable goes back to Jesus himself. And that’s important, because it takes away the skeptic’s wiggle room. If Jesus’ parables and actions make him out to be God, then we can’t say he has been misrepresented. We will be right back with C.S. Lewis, faced with the same three choices.
Jesus told the story of the prodigal as a defense of his ministry. This is spelled out in verses 1 & 2. Tax collectors and sinners were flocking to Jesus. These were people who were sinners, and they knew it. Everybody knew it. Jesus came preaching judgment, but he preached grace right alongside it. God was doing something new. The door was being opened. And those who felt a need for grace rushed to go in.
Standing off to the side in judgment were the scribes and the Pharisees. These were the God-fearing, Bible-believing, religious people who felt pretty good about themselves. They took religion seriously. They sought to honor God in everything. When Jesus told them to repent, they had to think a long time to find anything to repent of. So they complained about Jesus, “This guy welcomes sinners. He eats with them! You can tell he’s not from God by the company he keeps. If he were really who he claims to be, he would be like us.”
Jesus told this story as a defense of his ministry against their complaint. The younger brother in the story, who spits in his father’s face and wastes his inheritance in wild living, represents the sinners and tax collectors. The scribes and Pharisees are the older brother. He protests the party for his brother—in fact he boycotts it—just as the scribes and Pharisees protest and boycott Jesus’ ministry. The father in the story is obviously God. So far all of these identifications are obvious. The question is: Where is Jesus? He is in the story. Don’t think the scribes and Pharisees would have missed what he was saying about himself. And don’t you miss it, either. Where is Jesus in the parable of the prodigal?
Well, translate the story into reality. What does it look like in the real world when the Father welcomes home the younger son? Where was that happening? In the story, the father runs out to meet the son, he throws his arms around him, and kisses him. What events in the real world correspond to this? Jesus’ ministry. Here is how the Father was welcoming home his lost son: Jesus was preaching the kingdom. He was proclaiming judgment and grace. He was telling men and women, “Your sins are forgiven.” He was welcoming the sinner and the outcast. Jesus was, if you care to think of it this way, the Father’s hand and lips.
And this is only the beginning. I want to share with you three places we see Jesus in the parable of the prodigal. I think this will be an exciting way to bring the parable to life so that we see its significance for us. Standing behind each of these places is Jesus’ claim to be God. Deny that claim, and the parable doesn’t work. As we explore this parable, we will see who Jesus thought he was, and we will consider who we are. By the end of the story, you should recognize yourself to be either outside the party—you may be a younger brother who has not yet returned home or an older brother who denies your need for grace—or inside the party. And if you are outside, Jesus invites you to enter.
Where do we see Jesus in the parable of the prodigal? I have given you the first one already. We see Jesus in the Father’s welcome. This is an important point not only of the parable, but of Jesus’ ministry it was told to defend: God loves and welcomes sinners. Grace is available. In fact, some have suggested this parable should be called the Parable of the Prodigal Father. Three times the father does something no father in first century Palestine would have done: He gave the younger son his inheritance. The correct response would have been to beat him. [Note: By “correct response,” I mean from the perspective of a typical father in first century Palestine. A son in that culture who made that request could expect to be beaten or disowned. Obviously I am not condoning violence against children.] Then he welcomed him home. The correct response would have been to disown him. Finally, he went out to implore the older brother to come in. I’ll say more about that in a moment. God doles out grace lavishly, prodigally. Prodigal means wasteful. God is not careful or stingy with mercy. And this is good news for anyone who has ever felt like the younger brother.
I suppose if we are honest with ourselves, we are all younger brothers. We have all wasted, to some extent, the gifts God has given us. We have all been selfish. There is a lot of difference among individuals, though. Some people make a spectacular mess of their lives. I have known Christians who came to faith, and Christ changed their lives dramatically. They went from a life of drugs, alcohol, stealing, prostitution, you name it, to become a new creation in Christ. I have a personal friend who was a crack addict until he met Jesus in jail. He’s a very different person today. People like him are the obvious younger brothers. Others of us sin in more respectable ways. They are the buttoned-down, religious crowd that identifies more easily with the older, responsible brother. I’ll come to him presently.
The good news for younger brothers today is that Jesus is still in the same business of dispensing God’s grace. He died for you. He rose again. He lives. He reigns. And he still seeks out the broken, the hurting, and those who have failed brilliantly in life. Of course there was a time when the younger brother didn’t realize his need. He had money in his pockets and times were good. The path of self-indulgence always ends in a pigpen of some kind, but sometimes it takes a while to get there—or even to realize where you are once you arrive. If you get to that place, Jesus can help. He is the Father’s arms and lips to welcome you home.
Where do we see Jesus in the parable of the prodigal? We see him in the Father’s entreaty with the older son. When the younger son came home, the father threw a party. The older son refused to join the celebration. In the culture of that day, this would have been a great insult to the father. We miss this point easily because our culture is not built around honor and shame the way theirs was; but in first century Palestine, if a father threw a party and his son refused to participate, the son was denying the father’s authority. In fact, in the story Jesus told, the son blatantly disrespects his father verbally. Verse 28, “the father began to plead with him.” That’s a bit of grace because many fathers in that culture would have slapped him. But then verse 29, the older son says, “Look, you! I’ve been working for you all these years …” “Look, you!” Not the sort of deferential speech appropriate in that day. Sons were supposed to show great respect for fathers. This one did not. His refusal and his words brought shame upon his father.
Jesus’ invitation to the scribes and Pharisees correspond to the Father’s pleading. What does it look like when the Father reaches out to his older son? It looks like Jesus, teaching and preaching, telling a story to help them understand, offering them a choice. You see the implicit claim to divinity. Jesus is the Father’s entreaty. He is the Father’s Word in the flesh.
Of course there are older brothers among us today. Timothy Keller, in his little book about this parable titled The Prodigal God, suggests the two brothers represent two different approaches to life. The younger brother is the path of self-indulgence. The older brother is just as selfish, but he tries to get what he wants through the path of hard-work, self-denial … through religion. That was the scribes and Pharisees. When it came to holiness and honoring God, they felt they had a lot to be proud of. No one was more right-thinking and right-living than they were. Yet their attitude toward Jesus revealed something rotten at their core. They said and did the right things, but their hearts were far from God.
I suspect there is a little older brother in all of us. We want to be self-sufficient. We stand before God as the older brother stood before the father or as the Pharisee stood in the Temple in another parable Jesus told, and we say, “Hey, God, look at me. I keep the commandments. I go to church. I give. I’m a nice person. Aren’t you proud of me?” You would think he would be, right? I mean, some people live exemplary lives. Surely God is pleased? Remember, God sees our hearts. Motives count. If you do something good because you love God, fine. You have given him a gift. It is less than you owe him. It is less than he is worth—kind of like if your granddaughter gets married and the wedding present you give her is a coupon for 35¢ off Shake-and-Bake. But you have given God something, because you love him, and I believe God honors that. He accepts it because he loves you—kind of like your young son scribbles on a piece of paper and gives it to you as a Valentine. It means a lot because you love him. BUT, if you practice religion for any reason other than love for God or gratitude to God for his grace, it actually moves you farther from God.
The younger son in the parable only loved his father for what he could get from him. The older son was the same way, he just went about it differently. There are two paths that lead away from God, the path of selfish indulgence and the path of selfish doing-everything-I-am-supposed-to-do. We all need grace, whichever path we take. Jesus invited the Pharisees and scribes to lay down the heavy burden they were carrying—the burden of always being right, the burden of religion—and join the party. The parable ends as a cliff-hanger because they had to decide how it would end. Would the older brother embrace his father and join the celebration? Or would he reject his father as he had rejected his brother and sulk outside? That all depended on whether the scribes and Pharisees would recognize Jesus’ claim or not. Today it all depends on whether we will—you and I. Will we lay down our self-righteous self-sufficiency and accept his grace?
Where do we see Jesus in the parable of the prodigal? At the party! In the parable the father throws a big celebration. He orders the fatted calf to be slaughtered and cooked. Bring out the best dishes! Bring out the best wine! Hire a band! Let’s celebrate! Question: What does this look like translated into the real world? Where would the Pharisees look to see this party God puts on? At Jesus, of course! They complained, on another occasion, that Jesus like to feast and celebrate. Why didn’t he fast as they did? Jesus complained that John the Baptist came fasting and denying himself, and the Pharisees thought he was a nut. Then Jesus came eating and drinking, and they thought he was a drunk and a glutton. What did they want? Besides, the wedding party never fasts when the groom is present. Jesus often compared his ministry or the kingdom of God to a wedding party or a great banquet. God’s grace is something to celebrate! In the person of Jesus, God himself has come in the flesh! If that’s not a reason to celebrate, there never was one. God is throwing a party, and Jesus is the host.
Or look at it this way, what would have had to happen for the older son to join the party? The scribes and Pharisees would have had to acknowledge Jesus and join him at the table with all those sinners and tax collectors. Very well, we recognize the party as one more implicit claim by Jesus to divinity. What about us? What would it mean for us to join the party?
The party goes on. Jesus intended the church to carry it on. Our life together is supposed to be a party. Not that everything is fun and happy; after all, Jesus told us to expect persecution. Rather, our life should be characterized by joy. Our worship, our service, our life every day should reflect the joyful reality that Jesus died for us, he rose again, and he reigns. This joy persists despite the pain of life because it is deeper … and higher … than anything else. Church is no picnic—every pastor knows that—but it is a party. We ought to remember that, and try to live it, and (as Jesus did) invite others in.
In conclusion, the parable of the prodigal is a kind of map. It shows us who Jesus is. Where does he show up in the story? Jesus is the father’s welcome. He is the father’s entreaty. He is the father’s celebration. He can be all these things because Jesus is one with the Father. He is God. He knew himself to be divine, and he made that claim both explicitly and implicitly. Like everyone else who makes that claim, he was either insane or evil … or, unlike everyone else who makes that claim, he was right. Jesus did not claim to be divine in a New Age sense, as if he were no more divine than everyone else because we all are. He claimed to be the unique, only begotten Son of the Father.
That’s Jesus. Now who are you? Where are you on the map? There are three options here as well. You may be the younger brother, alienated from your heavenly Father because of your selfish indulgence. You may be the older brother, alienated from your heavenly Father because of your self-serving conformity. Or you are already at the party. God is throwing a party. All you need to get in is grace. Leave everything else at the door. Accept your Father’s welcome, given to you through Jesus Christ. And enter. Amen.
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