Today’s gospel reading is called “The Parable of the Prodigal Son.” “Prodigal” is not a word we use much anymore. The word means wasteful or lavish. It’s a story of a landowner who has 2 sons. One day, the younger son asks his father for his share of the inheritance now. It’s a provocaOve request. It was literally saying, “ I wish you were dead so I could get my bequest now.” As the younger boy, he was, by Jewish law, enOtled to 1/3 of the land while his older brother-the firstborn- would receive 2/3rds. The father relents; allowing his young son to rejoice in his victories and suffer his own defeats in life. The land is divided, the boy sells his porOon and departs to a “far country”- Italy, Babylonia or North Africa were likely desOnaOons. There he squanders his money living lavishly. But when a famine comes upon the land, he’s in trouble. Desperate, he hires himself to a GenOle farmer and is given the job of caring for the swine. Near starvaOon, he is enOtled to a porOon of the slaughter but Jewish law forbids it and so he finds himself eaOng the tough carob pods he’s been feeding the pigs. One day, he comes to his senses. It’s almost as if he were standing beside himself and seeing how far he’s fallen: he can’t possibly fall any further. He resolves to go home. He’s willing to face the ridicule of his village and the wrath of his family of which he is unworthy. Perhaps he can make amends by repaying his father. Maybe, if he’s lucky, his father needs another hired hand. There were 3 levels of workers on large estates. The bondsmen were like slaves but by Jewish law, had so many enOtlements that they were almost family. Secondly, there were those who worked under the bondsmen. These servants were on the circumference of the family. Thirdly, and on the lowest level, were the hired laborers. Hired for the day, they could be dismissed without excuse or noOce- their lives were one of desperaOon. But maybe, just maybe; there’s a place among them for this wayward boy. Along the long miles home, the boy rehearses his confession over and over in his mind- but while sOll a long way off, his father sees him. How so? We have to assume that each day the father climbed the highest hill in the area and watched the road, in a sad hope that his dear son might come home. Holding on to hope, the father knew not where hos boy might be, or if he were sOll among the living, but sOll, he waits and watches. Seeing him through the morning haze, he runs to claim back his boy. In oriental cultures, elders don’t run. It’s not dignified to grab up your cloak and run. The boy begins to stammer out his well-rehearsed speech but his Dad interrupts him with his own tearful greeOng. He tells his servant, who has now caught up with his Master, “Go and get my best robe.” This garment was rarely worn as it was reserved for honored guests. The father places his signet ring on the boy’s finger as a sign that he has his father’s trust and authority. Finally, shoes- because only slaves go around barefoot. Returning home, he orders the calf barbequed-it’s enough to feed the whole village who are invited to rejoice with the Master at his son’s return. The elder boy comes in from the fields. He hears the music and asks the servant “What’s the deal?” When he hears the news, he’s furious. He confronts his father with his bi'er complaints. To bo'om line it here: he’s saying, “I’ve lived a virtuous life but I get no reward, but this son of yours”- noOce, not my brother, but this son of yours- “he’s wasted your money” (and he slanders his brother by saying the money was spent on prosOtutes). “This life of vice you celebrate.” Selfrighteous much? The father refuses to take sides between his boys. He says to his older son, “all I have is literally yours but your brother who was lost is found, he was dead but now he lives- come in and celebrate with us!” And boom. The story abruptly ends. Each listener has to make up their own conclusion. What will the older son do? What would you do? This parable was told against the Pharisees. The context, way back in verses 1-3 of this 15th chapter of Luke; see the Pharisees complaining that Jesus is sharing a meal with tax collectors and sinners; which was to confer on them honor and equal status to himself, a Rabbi. For the self-righteous Pharisees, God has no place for sinners. A popular folk proverb said, “There is joy before God when those who provoke him, perish from the world.” Now, they would acknowledge that God could be merciful but only following some heavy groveling. But that God not only accepts sinners but goes out of his way to seek them out, like a shepherd seeking a lost sheep or a rich landowner running to embrace a wanton son? Outrageous! But unOl they could come to rejoice in the restoraOon of sinners, they would themselves remain estranged from God and woefully ignorant of God’s true nature. And thus the parable should not be called the Prodigal Son but rather, “The Loving Father”. My father was born on Independence Day in 1908 in Selma, Alabama. His life, growing up a Black man in the Jim Crow south, was tough. His grandfather, a Jewish banker, had built a house, for his mula'o mistress, in the colored secOon of town. At the insOgaOon of the wife, the Klan terrorized my dad’s family and ulOmately firebombed the family home. My dad, his brother and sister, fled north. He “dealt” with his family trauma, as did his brother, with alcohol. It didn’t make him a bad father, but rather an emoOonally withdrawn one. And the fear which stalked his dreams was passed on, unbeknownst, to me. In 1997, I began a new ministry as Rector of St. AugusOne’s, Santa Monica. On my first Sunday, I stood up to preach and looking out at a packed church of white folk, I heard my father’s voice; “What are you doing? You don’t belong here. You’ve go'en beyond yourself. Get out now.” But then I heard another voice, saying “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name: you are mine.” (Isa 43:1-4) Whatever failures or disappointments you have come through in your family. Whatever abuse or neglect. From fathers or mothers who demanded too much or expected too li'le. Whatever brokenness is yours, I invite you to see with me the father in today’s story as he runs, with tears streaming down his face, stumbling over the uneven road, to claim back his child - for in this story, you are that child, I am that child - who has far too olen “squandered the inheritance of the saints and wandered far in a land that is waste.” (BCP pg. 450) But our God ever stands, paOently waiOng and watching for our coming home. For “God loves each of us as if there were only one of us.”
St. Augustine of Hippo