A Father and His Two Sons

Luke 15:11-32
By Jean L. Keller-Thau
Associate Pastor, Dillsburg Brethren in Christ Church

About a year and half ago, I began an unexpected journey related to the passage this morning from Luke 15. Not many of you know that I have a younger sister, and few of you have ever met her. My sister Pat is three years younger than I am and lives in Baltimore, Maryland. She’s a lovely lady, married for over 25 years, the mother of two boys, and the grandmother of seven. She is a good mother, grandmother, and wife. She is a loving daughter and sister, but that comes at a distance. She has been in a challenging marriage, and since her marriage, we have probably only managed one or two visits a year. I have watched the hurt on the faces of my parents because of her distance, and I have always longed to reconnect more closely with her.

About a year and half ago she made the decision to change circumstances in her life and called to ask Mother and Dad if she could spend more time with us. I saw the joy that brought to both of them and I shared in the anticipation of being able to reconnect in significant ways with this sister that I loved. Mom asked me to set up a bed in the study so that Pat could have a private space when she was with us, and then Mom proceeded to think about the things that would make Patty comfortable. Pat began spending the weekends with us just as she had promised. I was surprised when my Mom got up early on a Saturday morning to go to the flea market and yard sales with her. I never realized that was something my Mom would enjoy. I would come up from downstairs and find my Mom, Dad, and Patty watching a ballgame on television, eating a bowl of ice cream, and perfectly content to simply be together. I was never excluded from any of this; I just wasn’t excited about baseball, and have never had any desire to go to flea markets and yard sales. I wasn’t particularly excited about getting up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning.

What I had expected to be a wonderful time of reconnection became a time of dealing with emotions that I was not very proud of. I became resentful and jealous of the time and attention being given to my sister who had spent so many years separated from the family. I struggled to understand why I would react in that way, and was too ashamed to speak to my sister or parents about the way I was feeling.  So, in many ways, I avoided them during that time. I do, however, recall making the comment to Pastor Jim that I was beginning to appreciate the parable of the prodigal son in a very real and new way.

For years I have read this parable with an understanding of forgiveness of sin. This parable is actually part of a trilogy in Luke that includes the parables of the lost coin and the lost sheep. All three clearly speak to us in regard to the forgiveness offered by God to us through repentance and confession, his mercy and grace, the extraordinary depth of his love, and his desire to reach out and find those who are lost. We see the divine mercy of God in the forgiving love toward the younger son by the father. The younger son had shown arrogant disrespect for his father’s authority as head of the family when he requested his inheritance prior to his father’s death. In making this request, the younger son was literally saying he wished his father dead. He wanted his freedom and independence so badly that he was willing to inflict whatever pain was necessary to achieve his goal. In that culture, it was very uncommon for an inheritance to be divided prior to the death of the father. It left the father with no provision to care for himself in his old age and put him at the mercy of his sons. But we do not see in this story the father arguing with the younger son in regard to his request. Instead, we see the father honoring his request and dividing the inheritance. Mercy was shown by the father to his son even in this instance. A less loving father could have had his son stoned to death for such a rebellious act. The act itself brought shame on the family, and particularly on the son. But the father allowed the son to take his inheritance. The younger son went one step further and showed total disregard for the land and property that he inherited by turning them into cash so that he might travel to a distant land, away from the eyes of his family. Clearly, it was not the father’s desire to bind his son to him through the inheritance. Instead, the father accepted the pain of losing this son. Equally painful was watching the son’s disregard for the inheritance as he sold off all the possessions he had received.

But this is a story of more than just the younger son. The father had two sons. The older son on the surface was loyal, obedient, and faithful throughout his life. However, the older son did not refuse his inheritance as would have been expected. Even though he was not the one who requested the inheritance, he did benefit from it. The older son in that culture would have been expected to work toward a reconciliation between the younger brother and their father, but we don’t see any indication of that either. We also see, in light of the older son’s reaction at the return of his younger brother, that the elder son was keeping close track of all he had done for the father, and felt that he too had earned some recognition equal to the celebration provided the younger son on his return. The older brother was so resentful that he referred to his brother as “this son of yours” stepping aside from a recognition that this was his brother, not just his father’s son.

Finally, this story is also about the father who patiently watched and waited, always ready to welcome the younger son home. The father allowed the son to choose to return. He allowed the circumstances of life to bring the son back to the family. He allowed the son to make the choice. So this parable is truly about two sons and a father.

In Gracious Christianity written by Douglas Jacobson and Rodney Sawatsky, we are told that this “story illustrates both grace and ungraciousness, forgiveness and failure to forgive, reconciliation and estrangement. The father bestows grace, the younger son accepts grace, and the older son is disgusted by the whole scene. The parable is about the nature of salvation—about the fact that God likes us as well as loves us. We are invited to accept God’s grace in our lives in the same way that the prodigal son accepts his father’s grace: thankfully, joyfully, and with the full knowledge that this is not what we deserve. It is a pure gift. Grace always is.” 

Although we often think of this parable as the one about the prodigal son, it could also be titled the forgiving father, or the begrudging brother. This parable should cause us to ask the question, would we respond like the older brother, or would we welcome the sinner home with love, eagerness and compassion like the father? Do we truly know God and understand the love that he offers? Being in proximity to God is not the same as truly knowing him through a personal relationship, grounded in a conscious, humble turning to him in repentance and confession. I don’t believe that the older or younger son truly knew their father. There is no indication that either son had taken the time to be in relationship with him, and had no understanding of his extraordinary love. I had not allowed myself the opportunity to accompany my mother and sister as they went to the flea markets and yard sales, and I did not take the opportunity to simply walk up the stairs to sit with them through an evening of just being together. Without my willingness to connect in true relationship with my parents and my sister, I misinterpreted their celebration of her homecoming as a lack of caring or disregard for me. I felt like the comfortable, old pair of shoes that had been replaced for the shiny, new, patent leather pumps. Had I connected with them, I would have realized that they had more than enough time, attention, love, and compassion for both of us. Out of my jealousy and resentment, I missed an opportunity to significantly reconnect with my sister, a time I might never be able to recapture.

I thought that I was beginning to understand the richness of this parable, recognizing that it not only spoke to forgiveness, but also to relationship. I was then surprised to find an even richer experience as I began to prepare the message for today and picked up a book written by Henri Nouwen—past professor at Harvard, Catholic priest, theologian, and writer. The book is entitled The Return of the Prodigal Son – A Story of Homecoming.  The book is based on Nouwen’s profound spiritual journey after encountering the painting by Rembrandt of the same name. I also became intrigued by that painting and wanted to share that with you this morning.

How often do we yearn for a lasting home, a longing for the warm embrace of a father or a mother? This mystery of a homecoming goes beyond just an entrance into heaven, but encompasses the mysterious events of reconciliation, forgiveness, and inner healing. As Nouwen spent hours sitting in front of Rembrandt’s painting, he began to not only identify with the father and the embracing of the son, but also to see those others in the painting who were looking onto the passionate embrace of the father. Nouwen writes that he had never fully given up the role of bystander, looking-in, sometimes an anxious looking-in, sometimes a jealous looking-in, sometimes a curious looking-in, and, once in a while, a loving looking-in. It was frightening to actually enter in, relinquishing the security of the observer for the vulnerability of the returning son. Looking at the figures in the painting—two women standing behind the father at a distance, the seated man staring into space at no one in particular, and the tall man standing erect and looking critically at the event on the platform in front of him—they all represent different ways of not getting involved in the spiritual journey. Is the heavenly Father saying, “Come on up, don’t be bashful, your Father wants to hold you too.” Many of us are onlookers, afraid to enter the journey. Instead of entering into relationship with my parents and sister, I allowed myself to be the bystander, missing the warm embrace of being welcomed.

As we continue on this spiritual journey, each step comes with what seems are impossible demands requiring us to let go one more time from wanting to be in control, wanting to be the center, or wanting to be able to predict life. Our needing to die one more time to the fear of not knowing where this journey will lead us; surrendering one more time to God’s love that knows no limits. This was a journey that I needed to take in realizing my sinful emotions in the midst of a wonderful opportunity to reconnect to a relationship with my sister that I truly wanted and valued. This spiritual journey has led me to a place where I know I need to be open to embrace the love that is right in front of me. I have traveled the journey of all three—the elder son, the younger son, and the father. The younger son was lost and seeking the father. He was rebellious, yearned for what he perceived to be freedom and squandered the gifts he had been given. The elder son was obedient, never wasted time or money, was reasonable, responsible, traditional, homebound, but although he was found, he was nonetheless empty without an understanding of the love he possessed. The father loved without judgment, but needed to wait patiently for his sons to grasp and understand his love. In my life, I have been the younger son, squandering the gifts God had given me, setting aside the love I had received from my mother and father, rebellious and seeking a freedom that was outside the freedom offered to me by God. In my life, I have also been the elder son—as witnessed by my reaction to my sister’s homecoming. I have been obedient, conscious of my time and money, reasonable, responsible, traditional and homebound, but without a true understanding of the extraordinary love offered by my heavenly Father and the love offered to me by my earthly mother and father, a love that was mine and didn’t need to be earned.

But I believe that through all of this, God is calling us to become like the Father—to claim for ourselves the authority of true compassion. We need to be able to reach out in genuine love and compassion, with a forgiving spirit, embracing those who seek after God. I believe that we have all been the elder son or daughter, the younger son or daughter, and that we are all called to be like the father. It is in embracing the love of God that we are transformed. As we examine our lives and envision our future, we need to be reminded that the small choices and decisions do matter. My choice not to be a part of the homecoming of my sister left me empty and feeling alone. My choice to seek to understand my feelings, to confess those feelings and seek forgiveness has moved me to a closer relationship to God. We need to be reminded that progress is not always measured in large, dramatic changes. We need to be reminded that growth is a day to day experience. We need to be reminded that as we cooperate, “little by little” we are becoming the person that God intends for us to be. As Henri Nouwen did in sitting quietly before the painting of the prodigal son, we need to sit quietly before God and allow him to speak to our hearts.

My sister doesn’t come to the house on weekends anymore. She may or may not know the feelings I struggled with during that time. I have never shared them with her. Those feelings may or may not have influenced her decision to go back to visiting once or twice a year. I may never know for sure how my lack of understanding and love influenced her. God had opened a door which I allowed to close because of my selfishness. I pray that we would not close doors to relationships with people who enter this place to worship with us, that we are willing to embrace in love those that enter our lives regardless of their past situations. I know that I have missed a wonderful journey of love with my sister, and I pray that God will be gracious to allow me another time to reconnect with her. My prayer would be that you don’t allow circumstances of life to keep you from building those relationships of love and connectedness that God brings into your lives.

<< Back to Sermons and Articles