4th Sunday in Lent
Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
1 Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to [Jesus.] 2 And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”
3 So he told them this parable: 11b “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the wealth that will belong to me.’ So he divided his assets between them. 13 A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant region, and there he squandered his wealth in dissolute living. 14 When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that region, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that region, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. 16 He would gladly have filled his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, and no one gave him anything. 17 But when he came to his senses he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! 18 I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.” ’ 20 So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. 21 Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22 But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate, 24 for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate.
25 “Now his elder son was in the field, and as he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. 27 He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf because he has got him back safe and sound.’ 28 Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command, yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your assets with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’ 31 Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’ ”
Reconciled
Grace to you, beloved of God, and peace from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
Preaching legend and sociologist Tony Campolo tells this story about being sleepless in Honolulu, Hawaii, after flying in from the East Coast. It is 3 a.m. He is up and hungry, and the hotel kitchen is closed. So he goes for a walk around the hotel, trying to find something to eat. Everything is closed, but he eventually finds a place. It’s not a good one, though. There are no booths or tables, just a greasy bar counter with a row of stools and an even greasier plasticized menu.
He sits down, and a big, sweaty dude in a filthy apron comes from the back and says, “What do you want?” I will have a cup of coffee and one of those donuts there, Campolo answers. Then he moves to describe in disgust how the big man wiped his sweaty hands in the filthy apron and grabbed the donut.
He is drinking his coffee, and suddenly, a group of prostitutes comes in and joins him in the bar. He wants to disappear. Then, the one sitting on his side says out loud to the group, “Tomorrow is my birthday!” What she gets in response is a “who cares? What do you want, a party?” I’m just saying, you guys don’t need to put me down, you know, she replies with a crack in her voice.
The ladies leave, and Campolo asks the big guy about the birthday lady. He learns her name is Agnes and has one of those epiphanic moments. He asks if they could throw her a party. “You know, mister,” the big guy answers. “That is a great idea! That girl, Agnes, is one of the good ones—such a gentle soul. It is not fair, you know. Those girls have no home or only broken families, and they start them so young.” The man calls his wife from behind. She gets excited and offers to do all the cooking. To Tony’s despair, the husband-owner in the dirty apron offers to make the cake. Campolo then says he will get the decorations, and they set the party time to 3 a.m. the next day. Before leaving, the big man asked Campolo who the heck he was. He introduced himself and left.
The next night, the place is packed with prostitutes. Tony, who by now had revealed himself a bonafide germophobe, leads the group in surprise happy birthday singing. Agnes buckles. She cannot contain the tears, he says. Then she asks for no one to touch the cake. She needed to show it to her mom. Nobody had ever done something like this to her in her 39 years. “But Agnes,” said one of the ladies. “It will not take long,” she replies. My mom lives just a couple of blocks from here. Agnes leaves, and Campolo feels some shade of hope that he will not need to eat the cake made by the owner, but then the whole place falls into a very uncomfortable silence.
Tony has another epiphanic moment. In a room full of prostitutes, he calls a word of prayer. He asks God to have mercy and deliver Agnes from this life, to restore the dignity that was taken from her, and to make her whole. When he says Amen and opens his eyes, Harry, the big sweating owner, is in his face. “Campolo, you are no sociologist. You are a preacher! You fooled me. What kind of church are you from?” Tony answers: “The kind of church that throws parties for prostitutes at 3:30 in the morning.” “Liar,” Harry yels. “If that church existed, I would have joined!”
There are so many layers to this story, but here is one. I am sure Tony Campolo knows the parable of the restoration of the undeserving, broken, and troubled child. And for the looks on his face when he tells his story, he does not want to be there. This was not something he was comfortable doing. Given the choice, he would not be there, and he seemed to have some major level of judgment for the people he was surrounded by. I would. Maybe you would, too. My church is pretty awesome, but it is not the kind that throws parties for prostitutes at 3:30 in the morning.
The father in today’s parable certainly would. If the child who wasted his share of the inheritance hanging around stablishments pretty much like the one in Tony’s story was fully restored, rings, sandals and all, no questions asked – heck, the father did not even allow the child to say everything he rehearsed about being included back as a hired hand. His ways in the parable are certainly not our ways.
Given a chance to ponder, deliberate, and consider the possible ripple effects, we would likely side with the responsible, hard-working child. I suspect Tony would, too. We would let the reckless child back in, but the child would have to earn the stripes back—prove that she belonged again. Likewise, we would expect the prostitute to fully redeem herself, and then we would throw a party to her. She would have to earn it.
That is OK. We are mere humans. We don’t think like God does, and our ways are not God’s ways. So God can take care of it without holding us accountable.
Yes and no. It’s one of those things that remain hidden and are not fully resolved for us, I guess. Yes, for us Christians of Lutheran perspective, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are the agents of our restoration and reconciliation. It is not something we earn. It is a free gift. However, there is still something that God hopes will come from the new persons that God has created and recreated anew at the font of supreme mercy.
See, Tony hated the whole situation. He could have walked out, but somehow, he remained. Then, he forfeited his identity because the situation was very uncomfortable for him. Yet, he remained. He could have disappeared after Agnes left, yet somehow, the Spirit inspired him to pray. Somehow, he manages to count no trespassing against anyone throughout this whole situation. At that time and place, amid the lost, the broken, and the ashamed, he becomes an ambassador for Christ. This is the ministry that God has entrusted to all of us. Amen.
Bridging Faith 