Fourth Sunday in Lent March 21, 2004.

Joshua 5:9-12

Psalm 32

2 Corinthians 5:16-21

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

First Reading

After three weeks of the more somber observations of Lent and calls for repentance, we arrive at Laetare Sunday, the day in which we are called by the psalmist to rejoice! We are halfway through our Lenten journey toward the cross. Perhaps we can see the brightness of the resurrection on the horizon. The texts for this Sunday give us cause to rejoice as we witness the homecoming of the Israelites and the man we call the prodigal son.

Joshua 5 describes the circumcision of the men who were born during the Israelites' exodus out of Egypt. They had not been circumcised in the wilderness; now that they have reached the Promised Land, the sign of God's covenant with God's people is restored. In today's reading we hear God declare that God has rolled away from the people the disgrace of Egypt. "Disgrace," in conjunction with the act of circumcision, can be understood as the disgrace of the uncircumcised state (see Genesis 34:14), but likely it refers to the disgrace of being slaves in Egypt. This disgrace has been rolled away, and now Israel can look toward a new life in Canaan. They celebrate the Passover, another marker of their identity as God's people, and they no longer have to eat the manna of the wilderness. Those days are over, and now they can enjoy the bountiful crops in the land of Canaan, their home.

Through Christ everything has become new, according to Paul's letter to the Corinthians. Christ was once viewed from a human point of view, when he was despised and rejected by the people. Even though he was without sin, he became sin for our sake, putting to death that sin on the cross. In doing so, we were made the righteousness of God. Martin Luther calls this the "happy exchange," wherein Jesus takes on all of our transgressions and, in return, gives us new life. When we were reconciled to God through Christ's death and resurrection, we were given this message to share so that all might be reconciled to God. We are Christ's ambassadors and can look at the world now in a new way: forgiven and free!

In the third of three parables dealing with finding something that is lost, we are invited to rejoice with the father of the "prodigal son," as another feast of celebration has been prepared. The younger of the two brothers selfishly asks his father for his inheritance, effectively declaring his father dead, and then runs off and squanders the money. He ends up hungrier than the pigs he is feeding and realizes that even his father's hired hands have enough to eat. He prepares a speech to give to his father, confessing his sins and asking his father to hire him as a laborer. Whether or not this speech was prepared in sincerity or true repentance, the younger brother does not have an opportunity to deliver it in its entirety. Upon seeing his returned son, the father rejoices and uses a large portion of the remaining inheritance to prepare a feast for his lost son. The older son grumbles, just as the Pharisees grumble at the beginning of this pericope, saying that his own loyalty is not acknowledged, yet the loyalty of "this son," who squandered his inheritance, is rewarded with a fatted calf. The father pleads with the older son, wishing for him to feel the father's joy, assuring the older son that all the father has is his. We do not know how the older brother responds. We can only hope that both lost sons are able to return to their father.

Pastoral Reflection

Luke's telling of the story of the two sons is so rich that it really stands better on its own rather than being "explained" in a sermon. Because of this, the preacher is invited to step inside the skin of one or all of the characters and tell the story from one or all perspectives. Expanding the narrative or filling in the gaps can provide a deeper understanding of the events of the text without deconstructing this beautiful story.

The younger son: I knew I was in trouble when I looked at the pigs I was feeding and envied them for the pods they were eating. It was bad enough that I, a Jew, would stoop so low to feed pigs, a job for a Gentile! But when I began to envy the pigs, when I looked at their food and wished to eat it myself, I knew I had gone too far. I knew I had been away from home too long. It was time to go back, at least to have something to eat again.

The father: I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw my precious younger son coming toward our land again. He had been gone for months; I was so worried about him that my older son had to do my work in the fields as well. Every day I watched that road, waiting for him to come home. When he did, I knew I had to reach him before the neighbors did, who, in their anger and hostility toward him for what he did, probably would have killed him. I knew I shouldn't have run in public--no grown man should be seen lifting his robes, baring his legs in order to run--but I had to get to my son.

The elder brother: I couldn't believe my ears when I heard that my father was throwing a celebration for my brother who had returned home. Father killed the fatted calf that we were saving in honor of someone who deserved it, not that son of his. That son who declared his father dead in order to get his inheritance and who likely devoured it on prostitutes, that son who ran off with Father's money, leaving Father in despair. This boy gets rewarded, and what do I get for all the hard work I've done for my father for all of these years? Do I even get a young goat for being obedient? Do I get a celebration in my honor?

God our Father: I sent my Son, Jesus Christ, as the way home for all of my lost children. For thousands of years my children have wandered, lost in sin, lost in anger, lost in the self-deception that they can wander this earth on their own. My children stray from me, turn their backs on the love I offer them, and then sink to the depths of despair when their ways and means fail them. My children withdraw from me, resentful when they work so hard, try so hard to be good, and yet do not get what seems to come so easily to others--love, money, acceptance.

I couldn't sit and wait for them to return on their own, so I sent my Son, Jesus Christ, as the way home for all of my lost children. He is the Son who lifted his robes, bared his legs, and ran to receive my children in his arms. He is the Son who welcomes home my children, weary from the effects of their sin, weary from the effects of their anger and resentment, weary from the life they have tried to live without me. He is the Son who welcomes you home and welcomes you to the celebration I have prepared for you, no matter who you are: Pharisee or tax collector, scribe or sinner, older son or younger daughter. Come and celebrate the love that has brought you home.