Fourth Sunday in Lent, 2025, rcl yr c
JOSHUA 5:9-12; PSALM 32; 2 CORINTHIANS 5:16-21; LUKE 15:1-3, 11b-32
[W]hen he came to himself he said …
I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him,
Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you”
I’m not sure I actually like the prodigal son.
Maybe it’s just me. At least at the beginning of the story, does he not come off as a little bit entitled? “Don’t really care if you’re not dead yet, dad. Can I have my inheritance, you know, half your money? Like, now?” And this wasn’t so he could run his own farm with his father’s wealth—the prodigal son picks up his stakes almost immediately, and buggers off to another country.
Now this may be my own bugaboo. Because I probably identify with the elder son, the dutiful one that never feels like they get enough credit for what they do. I do realize this is not a great look, and in a way, the parable helps me to see that. It’s a bit whiny, right? “But dad, what about all the things I always do? Can’t you give me some affirmation of my superiority?” Yeah. Not great.
But this is what it is to read parables, and especially the parable of the Prodigal Son, aka the parable of Generous Father or the parable of the Petulant Brother. They carry a lot of meaning, but can’t necessarily be pinned down as meaning just one thing.
This parable can be read as a parable about the Incarnation—about the Christ Jesus who empties himself, and humbles himself, taking the form of a slave in a far-off country—only to be exalted by the God who welcomes him back. As compelling as this is, and Henri Nouwen makes a really good case for seeing Jesus as the one who becomes the prodigal son for our sake. But it can’t be this simple either—are we to say that Jesus, in his earthly sojourn, engages in the dissolute living described in the parable? Maybe. Sort of? But not clearly. Even with this resonance, we can’t reduce the parable to be simply about a prodigal Jesus.
There’s also something to be said for seeing the generous father as the God of grace and forgiveness. But then we are left with the fact that in God’s generosity towards one soul—the younger, prodigal son—God would be completely forgetful of another. Because in the parable the father doesn’t appear to be able to count to two—that he has another son, the elder son that the father completely forgets to invite to the feast. So we can’t simply say that the father represents God, either, as much as there is an important resonance there.
We could even look at this parable completely differently, to say that this is not about God or the Christian soul but about foolish rich people. I mean, imagine being so wealthy that you could give away half your fortune without missing it; that you would be foolish enough to give away that much wealth to a son who clearly doesn’t know how to work or save; imagine being so foolish with your huge inheritance that you can make it disappear in a moment and have nothing to show for it; and how could a person be so foolishly wealthy that it doesn’t even matter that even when half of it is gone, you can still throw a lavish party and not worry about your future? This could be a parable about the foolishness of the absurdly wealthy.
There is a pretty strong hint though about how Luke would like us to see this parable—at the very least, we are to read it as a parable of repentance. The two preceding parables are about repentance, and Jesus says so. Jesus ends the parable of the lost sheep, saying, “Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who need no repentance.” And Jesus ends the parable of the lost coin, saying, “Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”
And even though the parable we read this morning doesn’t use the word “repent,” it seems clear enough that it too is a parable about repentance, this time fleshed out more fully about the dynamics and complexities of the relationship between repentance and grace.
And so I’d like to do a bit of an experiment, and to imagine how we would see this parable if one detail was changed. Like I said, the younger son, in demanding his inheritance early, does come across as a bit entitled, concerned with what he is owed and with little concern for others. What if he stayed that way? What if he didn’t “come to himself” as Jesus puts it, what if the younger son didn’t have this moment of clarity, and of honesty? What if the younger son didn’t repent?
It’s not hard to imagine, as other parables are full of such characters—foolish virgins, or wedding guests who have better things to do than to come to the feast. What if the younger son, instead of taking stock of himself, thought it better to blame others? “If my dang father hadn’t given me half his wealth, I wouldn’t be in this situation! Or “if those frickin’ prostitutes hadn’t taken all my money, I wouldn’t be so darn poor!” Or “if those stinkin’ pig-owners had taken me in instead of making me feed those filthy animals, I wouldn’t be so tempted to eat pig food!”
What if the younger son blamed everyone else for his situation?
It really becomes a different parable doesn’t it—it probably becomes a parable of judgment, rather than one of repentance and grace, where characters find themselves without what they need to thrive, where characters find themselves outside and in the darkness.
But with repentance, we can see this as a parable of grace. With the younger son’s introspection, as he comes to speak the truth of his situation, as he becomes convicted of his own sin, something extraordinary begins to happen. The younger son can begin to imagine entering back into the his father’s household. The younger son can imagine being cared for again. And so the younger son begins to find a road home.
And as we hear this story, we come to understand something of the paradox of repentance and grace. Without the younger son’s repentance, he cannot find that road home. Without finding that road home, he would not be in the position to experience the grace of his father. But strangely, even though without repentance the younger son would still be in the fields feeding pigs, even though repentance is the only way home to his father, the father will hear nothing of the son’s faults. Even “while [the younger son] was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.”
It seems to me that this parable is quite a helpful way to understand the paradox of grace and repentance. That two things are true at once: first, that repentance is absolutely necessary for us, because it is the way in which we orient ourselves to the truth—the truth that we squander what we’ve been given, that we are selfish, that we give in to temptation, that we hurt others. Repentance is absolutely necessary to finding a pathway home, and for us to be reconciled to one another. Without that moment of self-conviction, we remain in a far-off country and far away from others.
But the second part is equally true: the grace of God is offered to us without qualification. The father will hear nothing of the son’s faults, as though it was enough that the younger son was simply aware of his faults, willing to risk the road back home in order to be reunited with the ones who would rightly call him foolish.
It’s as though repentance is necessary to set us on the right path, to begin the process of reconciliation with others. But it is equally true that the road of repentance leads us to the God of grace who would welcomes us back with open arms—and allow for the faults we recognize in repentance to be covered over, in order that the lost might be found, and the dead might come back to life.
The Revd Canon Preston DS Parsons
Angus Sinclair was appointed Director of Music of St. John the Evangelist on February 1, 2023. Having graduated in 1981 (Honours B.Mus.) in organ performance from Wilfrid Laurier University, he went on to distinguish himself as a church musician, recitalist and accompanist touring in both Canada and the UK. For over 40 years Angus has served parishes and congregations throughout Southwestern Ontario as director of music. He experiences his present appointment to St. John’s as a welcome homecoming, both spiritually and musically.
As our parish musician, he provides both support and leadership so that a variety of parish programs can find musical expression and attract participation. When our handbell choir is in season, he is one of our ringers. At parish dinners, he provides popular piano music for the guests to dine by. For both worship services and concerts, he will rehearse and accompany vocal and instrumental soloists from our congregation on piano, organ, or even accordion.
Angus Sinclair was appointed Director of Music of St. John the Evangelist on February 1, 2023. Having graduated in 1981 (Honours B.Mus.) in organ performance from Wilfrid Laurier University, he went on to distinguish himself as a church musician, recitalist and accompanist touring in both Canada and the UK. For over 40 years Angus has served parishes and congregations throughout Southwestern Ontario as director of music. He experiences his present appointment to St. John’s as a welcome homecoming, both spiritually and musically.