Returning Home
Remember the song “Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round the Old Oak Tree about a man returning home from prison? Returning home after a long absence is always a a stressful time. Imagine the return of the Prodigal Son. How would he be received?
One of the best known of all of Jesus’ parables is the one that we know of as the Prodigal Son. Charles Dickens referred to it as the greatest story ever told. It has inspired great works of literature, classic movies, and magnificent art. It has been known by a host of different names. Some have called it the Prodigal Sons, because the father had two sons both of whom were problems. The German theologian and preacher Helmut Thielicke referred to it as the Waiting Father.
The story is all too familiar. A young man decides that he wants to go off on his own—do his own thing. In this particular case, he asks for his share of the inheritance—sort of an “I wish you were dead” slap in the face to his father. The father divides his assets and the young man sets out. Like so many, he quickly runs into problems. With money in his pocket, why not enjoy it? And, of course, money quickly attracts friends who are more than happy to help him spend it. It wasn’t long before he was destitute and had to find a way to earn money. As Jesus tells the story, the young man had really hit bottom—a Jew having to tend pigs. It wasn’t only that, but in the midst of a famine he was forced to compete with the pigs for food. It was under those circumstances that he decided that the smartest thing that he could do was to return home—even if it means as a servant rather than a son. At least servants get something to eat.
But returning home isn’t that easy. He had no idea what his reception would be. Early in our marriage, I received orders to the Third Marine Division in Vietnam. During the year that I was in Vietnam, Susan and I had one week of R and R together in Hawaii. Finally, my tour was finished and we met at her sister’s house in California where she had been staying for the last three months. Shortly after I returned, I suggested that we do something. She immediately turned to her brother-in-law for his concurrence. Right then I realized that it would take me a bit of time to fit back in to my own little family. Reentry is a challenge for those who spend time away from home. At one point I deployed for six months for a cruise around South America. Our younger daughter was two at the time. Any time something went wrong in her young life, she would burst into tears and exclaim “I want my Daddy!” When I returned from the deployment, she looked me up and down, and turned to her mother and said, “Is that my Daddy?”
What happened when the Prodigal returned? Two things: The Father had apparently been watching, hoping for his return. When he spotted his son, dignity was not on his mind. He ran out to meet him. He embraced him. He ordered the servants to bring a robe, so that his son could divest himself of his ragged and, probably, smelly clothes. He put a ring on his finger. He ordered the servants to kill the fatted calf, the one retained for celebration. The father was ready to receive him back into the family. “Not so fast,” the older brother said. “When this son of yours…note that he doesn’t speak of him as my brother…who devoured your property with prostitutes….note that in Jesus’ description of the younger brother there is no mention of prostitutes, that’s an addition by the older brother…you race to kill the fatted calf.” “Me, the older brother continues, “the one who has stood by you, who has served you, who has never disobeyed your slightest command, you have never even offered a goat…much less a ceremonial calf…to celebrate with my friends.”
Do you ever speculate on what happened to the characters of a story—a book or play—after the author has reached “the end.” I found myself wondering about what happened to the prodigal son after he rejoined the family. How did the father put him back to work? Jesus didn’t tell the story to entertain. It wasn’t about some mythical kid that wandered off, as typical a scenario as that may be. Jesus was talking his audience, which includes us. We are the ones who wandered away in our own sinfulness. We are the ones whom God is fitting back into the family. You are God’s people now the author of the epistle lesson tells us. What is our role in God’s family now?
Lent is a time to speak of separation. From the solemn words of Ash Wednesday—“Dust thou art and unto dust shall thou return”–to the service of darkness on Good Friday, we are reminded of our sinfulness. The focus on our Lord’s suffering and crucifixion ensures that we understand the seriousness of sin and the terrible price that God himself paid to ensure our forgiveness. Even in the midst of Lent we need to keep the Gospel focus clearly in mind. The Gospels underline not the extent of suffering of the Lord, but that it was done for you and me. The waiting Father, is our Heavenly Father. He is the one who welcomes us home. As people of the Resurrection, we live Lent with the full knowledge of the homecoming, of the reception that God the Father has prepared for us.
Are there elder brothers and sisters? Of course there are. There are always those who ask “Have you done enough to earn God’s favor? I would suppose there are many who see us as Alfred P. Doolittle, the Dustman in the musical My Fair Lady. People are always ready to help the deserving poor, but what about us undeserving poor, he asks. And God knows we are undeserving. Are you good enough to merit forgiveness?” Our answer would have to be, “No. There is no way that we can please God. Forgiveness is always a gift received through the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
There will always be older brothers and sisters, but think of the homecoming that God has in mind for us, not in the distant future, but now: You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for His own possession…You were not a people, but now you are God’s people.
Returning from an extended deployment is always a reentry. For some it is tragic, as they discover that the family that they left has moved on without them. In my case adjustments were made and wife and daughter restored me to a place within the family. As the Lord told the story, the Prodigal was reincorporated into the family. Once again he found the place where he belonged. Through Jesus Christ God has made us a part of the family of God. That’s the message that we have to proclaim. There is always a place for one more at the table—the table of God’s grace.