These illustrations are based on Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
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The Other Prodigal Son - Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
In 1986 Henri Nouwen, a Dutch theologian and writer, toured St. Petersburg, Russia, the former Leningrad. While there he visited the famous Hermitage where he saw, among other things, Rembrandt's painting of the Prodigal Son. The painting was in a hallway and received the natural light of a nearby window. Nouwen stood for two hours, mesmerized by this remarkable painting. As he stood there the sun changed, and at every change of the light's angle he saw a different aspect of the painting revealed. He would later write: “There were as many paintings in the Prodigal Son as there were changes in the day.”
It is difficult for us to see something new in the parable of the Prodigal son. We have heard the story so many times we believe that we have squeezed it dry of meaning. Not only that, but, as the saying goes, familiarity breeds contempt. When we hear the opening words of the parable once again, "And there was a Father who had two sons," we greet the words with ho-hum. Heard it. Heard it. Heard it.
Yet, I would suggest that just as Henri Nouwen saw a half dozen different facets to Rembrandt's painting of the Prodigal Son, so too are there many different angles to the story itself. This morning I would like for us to re-examine this familiar story by looking at the other prodigal son.
The prodigal son himself is well known to us all. Restless, impatient for his future happiness, he comes and demands from the father that which he thought was rightfully his. He took his money and journeyed to a far country where he wastes it. He wastes the money, wastes his life, and finally ended up doing the most indignant task that a Jew could do--the feeding of swine. It was then that Jesus says that he came to himself. He arises from his situation and goes back to the father to ask to be a servant in his household. And even as he was a long distance away the father saw him and ran out with outstretched arms to greet him. As the story concludes we have the makings of a grand homecoming party.
It was at this point that Jesus shifts the story and begins talking about the older brother…
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The Door Is Always Open - Luke 15:11-32
He was a rebel, a college drop-out, a carouser, and a partier. He smoked, he drank Johnnie-Walker, he was a brawler, and had more run-ins with the law than you would care to count.
By his own admission, he was the quintessential prodigal son. But now he stands to succeed the most respected, admired, and perhaps famous American of the Twentieth Century Billy Graham. His name is Franklin Graham. Today Franklin Graham not only has a tremendous benevolent ministry called The Samaritan Purse, and has met needs all over the world, but he is now preaching the gospel just like his Dad to thousands and thousands of people. He is where he is today because he had a father who made sure the door was always open.
Luke tells us about the two most famous sons in all of the Bible. One, of course, is the prophesied son of the Old Testament, whose name is Jesus, and the other is the prodigal son we find in this chapter.
Emerson called this story, "The most beautiful short story in all of human literature." You would be hard pressed to find a person who has never heard the story of the prodigal son. It is one of those stories that never grow old. It is sweet every time you hear it. It revolves around three characters: a younger son, an older son, and a father who loves them both. As we study this parable, keep in mind that the star of this story is not the prodigal son, but it is the prodigal's father.
I. The Stubborn Rebellion of a Sinful Son
II. The Sour Reaction of a Selfish Brother
III. The Sweet Reception of a Sympathetic Father
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God Said...
Is there a better picture of forgiveness in the whole Bible? It reminds me of a story about a woman who had upset her pastor because she claimed that she had conversations with God. She had attracted quite a following in the church and every day people gathered at her house, got on their knees, prayed, sang hymns and listened to her describe what God was saying to her.
The pastor thought all this was getting out of hand, so he went to visit her. "I know you say you are talking with God," he said, "but what you hear talking back at you is just your imagination. Just to prove it, I want you to ask God to name three of the sins that I confessed this morning. Then tell me what God said. If you can name those sins, I'll believe that you really are talking with God." The woman sat there for a long while, praying. Then she looked up and said, "I asked God to name your three sins, but God said, 'I forgot.'"
Norm Linville, The Prodigal Father
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Admitting We Need Help
Sign seen in a textile mill, "When your thread becomes tangled, call the foreman." A young woman was new on the job. Her thread became tangled and she thought, "I'll just straighten this out myself." She tried, but the situation only worsened. Finally she called the foreman. "I did the best I could," she said. "No you didn't. To do the best, you should have called me."
Traditional
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Where Are We At the Parable’s End?
Let's step back outside with the older brother, still in need of a shower, arms folded across his chest, the moral high road. "But when this son of yours came back ... you killed the fatted calf for him." He cannot even bring himself to acknowledge his brother with a name -- "this son of yours." A sense of unfairness, as you know, can turn venomous rather quickly.
So where are we at parable's end? Are we inside the party celebrating? Or are we standing outside with our arms folded, refusing to come in? Jesus will not tell us how this story will end. The father passionately invites the older son inside, "pleads with him" to join in the welcome. Curiously, however, we are never told what the older brother decides to do. The story ends but it doesn't end. You can almost hear the voice of Walter Cronkite saying, "You are there." Will we RSVP to a party thrown by an unfair God? Or will we stubbornly remain outside? In a world where God does not play fair, this parable forces us to make a choice. Who is the real "prodigal" here? Who is the real "waster"? From the beginning Jesus says that this is a story about two brothers. Which one is the authentic prodigal? Which one has yet to come home to the Father's extravagant love?
Frank G. Honeycutt, Sermons on the Gospel Reading, Cycle C, CSS Publishing
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God Loves the Elder Brother Too
God loves the older brother just as much as he does the younger brother, and I think that it is time that the older brother hear about it.
There have been a lot of elder brothers in the history of the church. There was St. Teresa, who lived in the 16th century. She never left the Father’s home. She went into a convent at an early age and developed a life of self-discipline that would fill anyone with awe. She spent hours a day in prayer. One day, when she was in her mid 40’s, she was entering the chapel to pray as she did everyday. And as she entered she noticed a picture, a picture which had been on the walls for years. It was a picture of Jesus being scourged prior to the crucifixion. And suddenly the realization came to her the Christ had been scourged for her. And those who have studied her life say that this was the great turning point. She had stayed at home in the Father’s house. She had done the right thing. But she needed to know that the Christ who was whipped was whipped for Teresa. And there was joy in heaven that day — not over a soul returning from wild living but for a soul returning from the fields after a hard day’s work.
United Methodists certainly know about the elder brother, because their own John Wesley was the best of them. He was so earnest, so methodical about his devotional life that people called him a Methodist and the name stuck. But it was not until his 35th year, after years of ministry, when he was at Aldersgate, that Wesley experienced God in such a way that he was able to write: “I suddenly felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt that Christ had died for my sins, even mine and had saved me from the law of sin and death.” Wesley had never gone to the far country. But Wesley needed to know how much God loved him too. He needed to feel some excitement about his religion. He needed a homecoming party.
Staff, www.Sermons.com
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Our Own Sin Is Hard To See
Let me tell you a true story. Back in 1893 there were a group of four sisters. The Cherry Sisters they called themselves, who made their stage debut in Cedar Rapids in a skit they wrote themselves. For three years, the Cherry Sisters performed to packed theaters throughout the Midwest. People came to see them to find out if they were as bad as they had heard. Their unbelievably atrocious acting enraged critics and provoked the audience to throw vegetables at the would-be actresses. Wisely, the sisters thought it best to travel with an iron screen which they would erect in front of the stage in self-defense.
Amazingly, in 1896 the girls were offered a thousand dollars a week to perform on Broadway -- not because they were so good, but because they were so unbelievably bad. Seven years later, after the Cherry Sisters had earned what in that day was a respectable fortune of $200,000, they retired from the stage for the peaceful life back on the farm. Oddly enough, these successful Broadway "stars" remained convinced to the end that they were truly the most talented actresses ever to grace the American stage. They never had a clue as to how bad they truly were!
The parable this morning does not tell us what the elder brother did when his father came out to speak to him. It doesn't reveal to us whether he realized that his envy and disdain had made him just as bad as his younger brother. Yes, the elder brother had never stooped to find himself in the pigpens of life. He would never have been caught dead carousing with prostitutes or wasting his resources in riotous living but in the end his refusal to rejoice at the return of his sinful brother was, to Jesus, just as offensive.
The tragedy was that he never realized just how bad HE truly was!
Lee Griess, Taking The Risk Out Of Dying, CSS Publishing Company.
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We Prefer Justice to Mercy
Perhaps you remember the cartoon strip, Calvin and Hobbes. Calvin is a little boy with an overactive imagination and a stuffed tiger, Hobbes, who comes to life as his imaginary friend. In one cartoon strip, Calvin turns to his friend Hobbes and says, "I feel bad I called Susie names and hurt her feelings. I'm sorry I did that." Hobbes replies, "Maybe you should apologize to her." Calvin thinks about it for a moment and then responds, "I keep hoping there's a less obvious solution." We have trouble accepting those whom God accepts because we take God's acceptance for granted and God's forgiveness as our right.
We are much like the elder brother who preferred justice to mercy. We have worked for what we have (or so we think), and it's unfair that everyone else should not have to do the same. We have earned God's favor (or so we think) by "staying at home." We have merited his acceptance by the good life that we live. So how dare God receive and accept our sinful brother who has returned home saying he's sorry.
Lee Griess, Taking The Risk Out Of Dying, CSS Publishing Company.
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Who Resented The Prodigal’s Return?
The Religious Ed teacher was reading this story of the Prodigal Son to his class, clearly emphasizing the resentment the older brother expressed at the return of his brother. When he was finished telling the story, he asked the class, “Now who was really sad that the prodigal son had come home?” After a few minutes of silence, one little boy raised his hand and confidently stated, “The fatted calf.”
Staff, www.Sermons.com
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What the World Expects of the Church
On a cold, dreary December evening, several hundred people gathered at a large downtown church in Winston-Salem to celebrate the Christmas season. Bishop Ernest Fitzgerald, present that evening, had gone down a long hallway to help a small boy who was pushing against massive oak doors trying to get outside. The boy was about 2 years old and as he pushed he was crying as if his heart would break.
The Bishop picked him up, thinking he belonged to someone at one of the Christmas parties but as he opened the doors and looked outside he spotted an old-model car speeding away in the darkness. Gradually, it dawned on him that the child he held in his arms had been abandoned.
Phone calls were made, and soon the church was filled with people wanting to help in any way they could. Within moments, the local TV stations interrupted their usual programs to ask if anyone knew the identity of the little boy. The next morning, one of the city's newspapers put the child's picture on the front page. Under the picture there was an article describing the events of the evening before. The article began with this striking line: "Someone trusted the church last night, and the church came through!"
Bishop Fizgerald later reflected on this event and wrote these words: It will be a long, long time before I can forget that newspaper headline. So much of the world's future depends on the faithfulness of the "People of God" to the "Great Commission." There is a deep hunger across our land as countless people grope for answers to the deepest questions of the human spirit. The message of Christ speaks to these questions, bringing hope and light to people who now stumble in the dark and live in despair. Our world will be changed as the hearts of people are changed. Evangelism is no longer an option for the church. It is essential to the survival of our world.
The line in that Winston-Salem newspaper is a haunting reminder of what the world expects of the church. "Someone trusted the church last night, and the church came through!" May that always be true!
Brett Blair, www.Sermons.com. Adapted from Bishop Ernest Fitzgerald, "Someone Trusted the Church," Michigan Christian Advocate, May 5, 1997, p. 8.
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ADDITIONAL ILLUSTRATIONS NOT IN OUR EMAIL
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Sermon Opener - Dealing With the Pain of Rejection
There is no pain in the world quite like it: the awful pain of feeling rejected. It hurts! It crushes the spirit and breaks the heart. Let me show you what I mean with a true story.
Pastor James Moore tells a story about a girl named Jessica. She was a tall, slender, sixteen-year-old blonde girl, who looked like she might grow up to be a model or president of the P.T.A., or a corporate executive. She was attractive, outgoing, personable, radiant, and happy. She was an only child and her parents were devoted to her and so proud of her. A member of his church she did a youth "speak-out" in an evening worship service. Her words were inspired and thoughtful from the pulpit that night. She was so wholesome, so clean-cut, so full of life.
But, the next morning, an urgent ringing of the telephone. It was Jessica’s mother alarmed, concerned, frightened saying that Jessica had been taken to the emergency room during the night and had been admitted into the hospital as a patient. When Moore got there and walked into that hospital room, it was a stark, gloomy situation. The drapes were closed, the room was dark, heavy despair was in the air we breathed. There was Jessica only hours before happy, radiant, full of life but now, laying there in a hospital bed, weak, pale, listless, almost the picture of death. She was emotionally drained, completely wrung out, so much so that she literally did not have the strength to lift her arms, she could not walk, she could hardly hold up her head. They talked for a moment, prayed together and then he left the room. Jessica’s mother came out into the hallway. Her mother said, "After we got home from church last night, Jessica had a phone call. Just as she hung up the receiver she fainted and when we revived her, she was physically unable to walk… she was so weak. We called an ambulance and brought her here to the hospital." Moore asked, "Do you know of anything that might have caused this?" The mother blinked as tears flooded into her eyes, she looked away and said, "Well, yes, that telephone call last night was to notify Jessica that she had been "black-balled" by the sorority she wanted to join."
Now, here was a young girl, sixteen years old, an only child, who for all of her life had had almost everything she wanted. At that particular moment what she wanted more than anything was to be accepted into that sorority and somebody had rejected her…
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Sermon Opener - The Awful Grace of Amazing Grace - 2 Corinthians 5:16-21
“Feel the burn.”
Ever hear that phrase? Anyone know what it means? . . . [You can make this into a karaoke moment.]
“Feel the burn” is what coaches and trainers tell their athletes. Or for other of us, “feel the burn” is what trainers tell their middle-bulging middle-agers trying to get back in shape. The wisdom behind the wit of “feel the burn” is that it is only when our muscles, our endurance, our bodies are pushed beyond the usual that we start to build new muscles, more endurance, a healthier body. Or as an earlier generation put “feel the burn,” “no pain, no gain.”
The first day of a new workout regime is always great. Muscles might be tight. Instead of “flexing” you might be “jiggling.” But it feels good physically, emotionally, and mentally to know you are on the move. Endorphins, the body’s natural anti-depressants, flow freely during exercise. The first day of a work out is wonderful. The next morning reacquaints you with “the agony of defeat.” Endorphins are never around at 6 a.m. when you are trying to somehow roll out of bed without screaming at the person who yelled at you “feel the burn.”
“Feeling the burn” is the reason so many of us never make it back to the second day of our “new workout plan.” We wait a few days, until the soreness subsides a bit, then we try again. That next morning is even worse! The problem with an intermittent exercise regime is that is brings a continual state of soreness. We never completely heal. But we never get into shape enough to “feel the burn” while working out without feeling like we’re on fire for the next week.
This is true of every discipline and every art. Whether it is sports, business, physics, chemistry, or marriage — the most daunting, draining, determining time is “zero-to-one.” Starting from nothing, from “zero” and moving to the next step, the first step, takes far more energy than any other movement taken from “one” onward. That’s why I have made it the #1 rule of spiritual physics: the distance from zero to one is greater than the distance from any other number.
Inertia — standing still — is the biggest hurdle any one can ever face when trying to move forward. That’s why “inertia” is a 7 letter word for sin. Ask anyone who has ever tried to start a new business. Ask anyone who has ever gone out on a blind date. Ask anyone who has arrived in a new country, not knowing the language, the customs, or the people.
Zero to one can be a heartbreaker and a body modifier.
On the “zero to one” struggle, Christians get to be great big cheaters. Paul said it in today’s Corinthian text, and Luke illustrated in today’s gospel text. God has “cooked the books” in our favor. Because of Christ’s death on the cross God is “not counting” all our trespasses against us. Christ took all our sins, all our spiritual inertia, our moral malaise, to that cross on Calvary and miraculously moved us from point “zero” to “one.” If our lives were a game of “Parcheesi,” Christ has moved all of our marbles from “Base” to the entranceway for “Home.” All we have to do is move on into “Safety.”
What moves us from “zero” to “one” is nothing less than God’s grace...
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Familiarity Breeds Contempt
In 1986 Henri Nouwen, a Dutch theologian and writer, toured St. Petersburg, Russia, the former Leningrad. While there he visited the famous Hermitage where he saw, among other things, Rembrandt’s painting of the Prodigal Son. The painting was in a hallway and received the natural light of a nearby window. Newman stood for two hours, mesmerized by this remarkable painting. As he stood there the sun changed, and at every change of the light’s angle he saw a different aspect of the painting revealed. He would later write: “There were as many paintings in the Prodigal Son as there were changes in the day.”
It is difficult for us to see something new in the parable of the Prodigal son. We have heard the story so many times we believe that we have squeezed it dry of meaning. Not only that, but, as the saying goes, familiarity breeds contempt. When we hear the opening words of the parable once again, “And there was a Father who had two sons,” we greet the words with ho-hum. Heard it. Heard it. Heard it.
Yet, I would suggest that just as Henri Nouwen saw a half dozen different facets to Rembrandt’s painting of the Prodigal Son, so too are there many different angles to the story itself.
Staff, www.Sermons.com
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A Missed Opportunity to Forgive
A childhood accident caused poet Elizabeth Barrett to lead a life of semi-invalidism before she married Robert Browning in 1846. There's more to the story. In her youth, Elizabeth had been watched over by her tyrannical father. When she and Robert were married, their wedding was held in secret because of her father's disapproval. After the wedding the Brownings sailed for Italy, where they lived for the rest of their lives. But even though her parents had disowned her, Elizabeth never gave up on the relationship. Almost weekly she wrote them letters. Not once did they reply. After 10 years, she received a large box in the mail. Inside, Elizabeth found all of her letters; not one had been opened! Today those letters are among the most beautiful in classical English literature. Had her parents only read a few of them, their relationship with Elizabeth might have been restored.
It is difficult to imagine how hard her fathers’ heart must have stayed to receive those letters and never even open a single one. He must have known breaking the seal on even one of those precious letters would have broken his resolve and possibly his heart. But in the breaking of his heart, he might have had an opportunity to heal his family and mend both his own broken heart and the broken heart of his daughter.
Is there anyone seeking forgiveness from you?
Adapted from Daily Walk, May 30, 1992.
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Money Can Buy a Bed But Not Sleep
Someone said that money can buy you a bed, but it can’t buy you sleep. It can buy you books, but not brains. It can buy you food, but not an appetite. It can buy a house, but not a home. It can buy medicine, but it can’t buy health. It can buy all kinds of amusements, but it can’t buy happiness. Money can buy a fine dog, but only love will make the dog wag its tail.
What kind of wealth do you want? We celebrate the wealth of God’s love in Jesus Christ. The wealth of God's love brings us what the wealth of the world cannot touch: Peace, understanding, fulfillment, life. These things are eternal.
In Milan, Italy, there is a great cathedral with three doors. On the door to the right is written, "All that pleases lasts only for a moment." The door on the left proclaims, "All that troubles lasts only for a moment." And the large center door reminds all that approach, "Nothing is important except that which is eternal." In this life you will experience pleasures and troubles. What lasts forever is the wealth of God in Jesus.
Brett Blair, www.Sermons.com
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Humor: He Took Out His Lunch and I Took Out Mine
There is a story out of the Middle Ages that goes something like this. It seems people were putting pressure on the Pope, saying to him, "Your Holiness, this is the capital of Christendom. There ought to be only Christians in Rome. Let's get rid of the Jews." The Pope however, replied, "I don't know. Before I do anything, I will have a theological discussion with the chief rabbi of Rome. If the rabbi says the right things, the Jews will be allowed to stay. If he says the wrong things, they will have to go."
So they invited the rabbi in. The Pope dismissed all the Cardinals and said, "Rabbi, we are both theologians. Theologians deal in symbols. Since we use symbols in our communication, let this discussion be entirely in symbols." The rabbi said that was fine with him.
First, the Pope made a large circle with one hand and the rabbi responded by pointing to him. Then the Pope thrust out both arms to the chief rabbi. The rabbi responded by pointing to the Pope with two fingers. Finally, the Pope looked around for an apple and held it up. The rabbi went through the pockets of his long caftan and took out a piece of matzoh. The Pope concluded, "This is one of the finest statements I have heard of. Of course the Jews will be allowed to stay," and he sent the rabbi away.
The Pope, then, brought in the Cardinals and said, "I don't know what you people have been fussing about. I said to the rabbi, 'There is one church and it encompasses the world.' And he said, 'You are the head of it.' Then I said to him, 'There are two swords, the secular and the ecclesiastical,' and he said, 'You hold them both.' And then I said, 'There are foolish people who say the earth is round,' and he said, 'No, the earth is flat.' "
The rabbi went home to his wife and told her. "You know, I haven't the foggiest idea what the fuss was all about. I got in there and the Pope said, ‘We’ve got you surrounded.’ And I said, 'But we can get to you too.' Then he said, 'We can hack you to pieces,' and I said, 'We can poke your eyes out.' Then he took out his lunch and I took out mine."
Communicating with our hands and arms can be dangerous, it appears. But there are many times and in many ways that we do communicate with symbols and most of them are easily understood. For instance, what does this stand for ... (peace)? How about this ... (number one)? This ... (okay)? And this ... (power)? And what do we try to teach babies even before they can speak ... (bye-bye)? How about this one ... (bad person)? Or ... (come here)? Or ... (come here now!)?
I think there is a symbol present in the story of our gospel for today that is worth pondering for a few moments. The story is all too familiar. There was this son who got tired of working in his father's pizza shop, so he went to his dad and asked him for his part of the inheritance now, so he could go out on his own. The father agreed and the son was off. He immediately bought himself a Porsche 944, picked up Donna Rice, and headed for Las Vegas. There he bought drugs and booze and friends and when the money ran out, so did the drugs and booze and the friends. He ended up working as a busboy for Wayne Newton, so he could pay off his gambling debts, and he had to eat the leftover food on the plates he cleaned from the table to keep alive.
One day, while gnawing on a leftover rib, he realized how foolish he had been and wrote home to dad for help. Without a moment's hesitation and without reading the whole letter which was full of apologies and regrets, dad sent a first class plane ticket back home. The son arrived home and was greeted by dad with the biggest pizza party ever thrown in Baltimore.
Now, your translation may be different from that, but what symbol do you see at work here? Can't you just see the father running to greet that long lost son with arms outstretched and hands opened in welcome and love?
That's precisely how God loves us -- arms outstretched, running toward us always, welcoming us home. Jesus says through this parable, "That's how God loves us."
Glenn E. Ludwig, Walking To Walking With, CSS Publishing, Lima, Ohio.
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How Much Are You Worth?
How much is one human being worth? In terms of his financial profile, the prodigal was now worth zero. How much are you worth? I am not sure how to answer that question. If we could somehow break down the chemical composition of your body I could tell you your worth. You have within your body enough iron for a nail; enough sugar to fill a sugar bowl; enough fat for seven bars of soap (that may vary from person to person); enough lime to whitewash a chicken coop, enough phosphorous for 2,200 match heads, enough magnesium for a dose of magnesium; enough potassium to shoot a toy cannon, all mixed in with a little sulfur so that even in today’s inflated market you are valued at about $7.50. That is how much we are worth.
What gave the prodigal his value is that he belonged to someone. He had a father. If I hear that there are 5,000 runaways every day in America that will not cause me to blink an eye. But if I hear that my child is one of them, there is nothing that I will not do to see that they are found. You are more valuable than an African diamond mind and an Arabian oil field. Why? Because you belong to our heavenly father. In the parable of the lost coin, we read where a woman turns her house upside down in search for a missing coin. Will God not literally turn the world upside down in his search for one lost soul?
Staff, www.Sermons.com
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Amazing Grace
John Newton, who wrote the hymn Amazing Grace back in 1779 certainly identified with the younger son, the son who wasted his inheritance. As a young man he left home and went to sea and there lived wildly and free. Like many people who abandon God, he was highly critical of the Christian faith, and spent much time tearing down the faith of the people he met as he went from place to place. It was only in later years that he realized that he had wasted his young life, and indeed not only wasted it - but in all that time he had been offensive to God and to all God-fearing people. And like the young prodigal, he repented and sought, in humility and submissiveness, to serve God for the rest of his days. His resulting experience of God's forgiveness, of God's grace, is not only described well in the emotion packed words of the song he wrote, it is also to be found in his epitaph, an epitaph he himself wrote shortly before his death in 1807. He describes himself and his experience of God this way: "John Newton, clerk, once an infidel and libertine, was by the rich mercy of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, preserved, restored, pardoned, and appointed to preach the faith he had long labored to destroy."
Richard J. Fairchild, The Third Son
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The Other Prodigal
Sir Noel Patton was a renowned artist. He was known for his exquisite and beautiful paintings of birds and flowers and children at play. But in each of his paintings he would always put in the very corner some grotesque object, such as a serpent, or an eel. This is what Christ the master painter has done with this portrait. We see this loving scene of the father and the prodigal in one another’s embrace. But in the very corner of the painting we see the grotesque face of the elder as he is watching what is happening.
You see, Christ is trying to tell us that there are really two prodigals in this story. There is the sin of the younger son. His sin is plain for all to see. Then there is the sin of the elder brother. His sins are more subtle but nonetheless real. His is the sin of temperament and in this case resentment.
Brett Blair, www.Sermons.com
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The Cost of Resentment
Jesus is telling this parable to a group of people who are self-righteous “elder brothers,” people who were angry with him for celebrating life with the down-and-out poor.
Remember the old Amos and Andy radio program? In one episode, Kingfish, instead of shaking hands to greet Andy, affectionately slapped him on the chest. But this infuriated Andy, and as the show went on, Andy became more and more resentful.
At the end of the program, Andy came in with a big smile on his face and said to Amos, “I’m ready for him now, Amos. Just let the Kingfish slap me on the chest, and see what he gets.”
Amos asked, “Why Andy, what have you done?”
Andy answered, “In my vest pocket, I have two sticks of dynamite. Now, when Kingfish slaps me on the chest, It’s gonna’ blow his hand clean off!”
What Andy didn’t realize is that it also would blow his heart right out.
Staff, www.Sermons.com.
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God Does Not Compare His Children
That God does not compare or rank his children seems to be a point almost impossible for us to grasp, because we live in a world which ranks and compares people. People are seen as more intelligent, or less intelligent, more beautiful or less beautiful, more successful or less successful, and we have convinced ourselves that love must do the same. When he hear someone else being praised, it is difficult not to think of ourselves as less praiseworthy. We see people getting awards, and trophies, and prizes, and we cannot avoid asking our self: why did that not happen to me?
When, all our lives, we grow up in a world filled with grades, and scores, and statistics, we learn either consciously or unconsciously that we must measure up. It is then that we are just like the elder and joy flies right past us because we are bent on comparing.
God does not compare his children and rank them. And though intellectually I can get this in my mind, on a pure emotional level I find it almost impossible to accept.
Brett Blair and Staff, www.Sermons.com.
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The Worst Crime
The famous British professor from a century ago Alfred Momerie says that it has often been concluded that murder is the worst crime. “But this will not do. He (the murderer) is generally executed for his crime and that is the end of him. But the sins of the temper and of speech and of thought, the sins of unkindness, or unneighborliness, are sins that we can go on committing without fear of punishment, every day, every hour, every moment. The amount of suffering, therefore, which can be inflicted by them is practically infinite.”
The Professor goes on to ask the question: “Which has caused the greater amount of human misery--theft or irritability? Suppose that a member of your family, with whom you are compelled to live, is incessantly annoying, incessantly torturing you by his moroseness, by his fits of rage--will you say that this man who has made your home a veritable hell is more righteous than the man who steals from your purse?” Momerie goes on to conclude that the world has suffered infinitely greater by those who are guilty of the sins of temperament which arise ultimately from the sin of pride.
Perhaps this is Jesus' meaning when he said that hatred of the heart is the same as murder with the hand (Matthew 5).
Brett Blair, www.Sermons.com. Location of quotes unknown.
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There Always Comes an End
Brady Whitehead, chaplain of Lambuth College in Tennessee, tells the true story of a student whose parents were tragically killed in an accident. This student suddenly became the beneficiary of the estate. According to Brady, he started squandering the money on lavish trips. He would even invite other students to go along at his expense. He was spending the money so fast that Brady called him into his office one day and had a talk with him. He said that as Chaplin of the school he felt it was his responsibility to question his spending habits. The student responded: “But what you don’t understand is just how much money I have inherited.” Well, that may be so, said Brady, but even to a large estate there comes an end. Well, the student did not listen, and Brady revealed that by the time he graduated from Lambuth, all of his parent’s money was gone.
Brett Blair and Staff, The Prodigal Son, www.Sermons.com
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A Heart that Sings with Joy
“I saw them eating and I knew who they were.” That saying, or some version of it, is well-known now. And it certainly describes the Pharisees whom we encounter in Luke 15:1-2. Jesus was welcoming the very folks whom the religious establishment had written off. Worse, he was at table with them, which was an intimate act of fellowship that implied a kind of personal bond and connection. So we’re told the Pharisees muttered into their beards about this. Jesus overheard their comments and knew their hearts and so told them three stories that reveal the heart of God.
And that’s really what is going on in Luke 15: we’re not here first of all being given stories of the “go and do likewise” variety. The parable in verses 11-32 is not in Scripture first of all to encourage fathers to be forgiving of their naughty kids any more than the first two stories were an instruction to shepherds or a cautionary tale to take better care of your fiscal assets. No, all three reveal the heart of God — a heart that is broken clean in two by lostness but a heart that sings with a joy as wide as the cosmos when even the silliest sheep or the meanest of sons comes back and/or is found again.
Scott Hoezee, Comments and Observations
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What Would You Have Given the Prodigal Son?
Fred Craddock preached one Sunday in a neighboring town when the regular minister happened to be away. Fred preached on this text ... not by choice, so much as by assignment. Leading a fellow to say after the service: "I really didn't care much for that, frankly." Fred continues:
I said, "Why?"
He said, "Well, I guess it's not your sermon. I just don't like that story."
I said, "What is it you don't like about it?"
He said, "It's not morally responsible."
I said, "What do you mean by that?
"Forgiving that boy," he said.
I said, "Well, what would you have done?"
He said, "I think when he came home he should've been arrested."
This fellow was serious. He's an attorney, I thought. I thought he was going to tell me a joke. But he was really serious. He belonged to this unofficial organization nationwide, never has any meetings and doesn't have a name, but it's a very strong network that I call "quality control people." They're the moral police. Mandatory sentences and no parole, mind you, and executions.
I said, "What would you have given the prodigal?"
He said, "Six years."
William A. Ritter, Collected Sermons, www.Sermons.com
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Every Shot Makes Somebody Happy
As most of you know, I am a golfer. I use the term loosely because I do not play very well and I do not get to play very often any more, but I still consider myself a golfer. There is an old expression in the game that says, "Every shot makes somebody happy," which means if you hit a good one, you are happy. If you hit a lousy one, your opponent is happy. Whoever came up with that line was not quite as charitable to the gentle folk who play the game as he or she might have been, but the point is well taken: good fortune for one does not necessarily mean good fortune for someone else.
David E. Leininger, Collected Sermons, www.Sermons.com
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The Greatest Sentence Ever Written
A teacher, every year in her fifth grade class, had what she called the Scholastic Olympics. What happened was that she would ask each child to pick a sentence from literature, name the author and source from which it came, and then explain why this sentence could be called the most important sentence ever written. You can probably guess what some of the entries were, like "Fourscore and seven years ago," and "All people are created equal." A lot of political phrases like that. There were also a lot of literary phrases, like "To be or not to be." The girl who got the most points for knowing that "To be or not to be" was from a play got some points taken away because she said the author was a writer for the Bill Cosby Show.
There were fourteen entries of the same biblical verse, "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth," probably because the teacher had said that was her favorite verse.
You know what sentence won? It was not written by a famous author at all. It wasn't to be found in any literary source. It appeared on a postcard from Hawaii that one of these fifth grade girls received from her stepfather, who was on a honeymoon with the girl's mother. The teacher was uneasy about this, because the children were supposed to explain why this is the most important sentence ever written. But she let her speak. The girl said that until she received that postcard, she didn't know how her stepfather felt about her. The girl's entry won the prize. It was written on the back of a postcard from Waikiki Beach . It said, "Charlotte , I love you."
That's the greatest sentence ever written. And there are many variations of it. And wherever it is heard, and from whatever source it comes, it constitutes a blessing. It is here in this text this morning. It's here in the parable of the Prodigal Son, and it's addressed to everyone. To sons and to daughters, to prodigals and to the righteous: "Come home. I love you."
Mark Trotter, Collected Sermons, www.Sermons.com
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I Have Been Found
In every other religion we have to go to God. In every other religion God's holiness meant that we couldn't get close to God until we, ourselves, became holy. So in every other religion, God is way, way up there, and we are down here, and some of us are way, way down here. The job of the priests in all those religions is to mediate, to appease God through offering sacrifices so that God will like us, and we will be acceptable to God.
But in Christianity the proclamation is just the opposite. It says we don't have to find our way to God, because God has found his way to us. What is unique, Montefiore said, is that God seeks us and God finds us. That is why the classical, prototypical Christian experience is, "I have been found." "I once was lost, but now am found."
Mark Trotter, Collected Sermons, www.Sermons.com
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He Seeks Until He Finds You
There is a wonderful story about Maya Angelou. She is an active member now of Glide Memorial United Methodist Church in San Francisco. She wrote that years ago when she first came to San Francisco as a young woman she became sophisticated. She said that was what you were supposed to do when you go to San Francisco, you become sophisticated. And for that reason she said she became agnostic. She thought the two went together. She said that it wasn't that she stopped believing in God, just that God no longer frequented the neighborhoods that she frequented.
She was taking voice lessons at the time. Her teacher gave her an exercise where she was to read out of some religious pamphlet. The reading ended with these words: "God loves me." She finished the reading, put the pamphlet down. The teacher said, "I want you to read that last sentence again." So she picked it up, read it again, this time somewhat sarcastically, then put it down again. The teacher said, "Read it again." She read it again. Then she described what happened. "After about the seventh repetition I began to sense there might be some truth in this statement. That there was a possibility that God really loves me, Maya Angelou. I suddenly began to cry at the grandness of it all. I knew if God loved me, I could do wonderful things. I could do great things. I could learn anything. I could achieve anything. For what could stand against me with God, since one person, any person, with God form a majority now."
There are many people who are just like that. They think it is unbelievable that God would know me, that God would love me, that God would know my name. Just the grandness of it, as Maya Angelou says, that God would really love me. But that is the gospel. He seeks you until he finds you. She found that God found her, in San Francisco.
Mark Trotter, Collected Sermons, Sermons.com