Getting Lost

Luke 15: 11-32

Note: Today’s scripture lesson is familiar to many, even if they aren’t particularly well-versed in biblical stories. It is the parable of the prodigal son. It is the longest parable that Jesus told and one of the most interpreted and preached upon parables in the Gospels. It is so well-known that we often refer to anyone who goes away and returns as “prodigal” (even if that’s not what the word means). This week’s devotions will focus on this parable and hopefully dispel some myths about it and help us see what Jesus was trying to teach us by telling this timeless story. I also would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the work of my mentor Rev. Dr. Thomas Long (whom I will refer to as “Tom”) in these devotions. His scholarly work around this parable can be found in his book Proclaiming the Parables: Preaching and Teaching the Kingdom of God.

One of the powerful things about the parables that Jesus tells is the relatability. We can often see ourselves in them. Without overthinking it, who do you relate to in this parable? I want to identify as the father, but I probably have considerably more in common with the older brother than anybody else. I try to do the right thing. I try to serve others. Because I often identify with the older son’s sense of duty and service, I slip into thinking that his anger and resentment towards his younger brother is justified. I think he has a point. I empathize with his feelings. Who do you identify with and empathize with in this story?

As I mentioned, most people recognize the phrase “Prodigal Son,” and for those of us who know our bible, know the story and we know why it’s called the prodigal son. However, Jesus didn’t say, “I’m going to tell you a story I call ‘The Parable of the Prodigal Son.’” No, the church labeled it that way years later. I wonder, though, if it really captures the degree of “lostness” in this parable. I understand that it is consistent with the two other “lost” parables that Jesus tells immediately before this, the parables of the lost sheep and lost coin, which we heard in worship yesterday. Tom argues that this title makes us miss the fact that the younger son – the prodigal one – isn’t the only lost one in this story. Despite his faithfulness and his loyalty to duty, the older son is lost as well. Tom suggests a better title would be “The Parable of the Compassionate Father and His Two Lost Sons.” They are both lost, in their own ways, and in need of repentance and reconciliation.

This recognition speaks to a universal truth: there are many ways to get lost and separated from the life that God intends for us. We can get lost in big ways, like the younger son who sloughs off his familial responsibilities, wastes all his money on morally questionable expenses, and finds himself all alone. The NIV translation says he “squandered his wealth on wild living” (v. 13). I picture him in Vegas spending money on all the wild things one can spend money on in Vegas. It’s not called Sin City for nothing. Clearly, he is lost.

Yet there are less obvious ways that we get lost too. Sometimes we get lost because our hearts are hardened by feelings of resentment and jealousy. Our lostness isn’t always as obvious as going on a bender in Vegas with gambling, drinking, drugging, and other activities. It can be active in our hearts. That’s where the older brother is lost. Because it is so quiet and so hidden, we sometimes have a hard time realizing that we are indeed lost. Just because our lostness isn’t obvious to the rest of the world doesn’t mean that we are not lost. So, for those of us who may identify with the older brother, perhaps it’s time to recognize how our resentments, jealousy, and sense of righteous indignation make us just as in need of repentance and reconciliation as our brother who took off for Vegas.

Prayer
Compassionate Father, you are always seeking to find those of us who are lost. Grant us the wisdom to recognize when we are lost and the strength to return to you. No matter how lost we may get, may we always return to you. Amen.

Rev. Dana Ezell