The Prodigal Son

This sermon was preached by Pastor Ted Carnahan for the Fourth Sunday in Lent on March 30, 2025.

Grace, mercy, and peace be with all of you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

The Pharisees are mad, which is not that exciting or unusual really. Usually they're mad about Jesus, and this happens all the time. But in particular, I want us to notice what they're mad about today. I'm glad that we included the first couple of verses of Luke chapter 15 because it gives us the context for understanding the confrontation here. They're mad because they don't like that Jesus is spending time with sinners.

"Jesus, you're spending time with sinners." And in particular, what do they mean? They mean people they don't approve of and that genuinely are sinners.

Here's the thing that you've got to remember. The Pharisees, just because they're kind of the bad guys in the story here, doesn't make them wrong. Jesus is spending time with sinners. That doesn't mean that the sins are good and okay. The sins are not good.

He's spending time with prostitutes. That doesn't make prostitution good. I've run into people who think, "Oh, well, Jesus spent time with sinners, so therefore sin is okay." No, that wasn't it at all. He was eating with them as a sign of solidarity and fellowship with them, loving them and spending time with them.

So he was eating with prostitutes. He was eating with tax collectors. Tax collecting in that era would have been seen as identifying with the Romans, the hated Roman oppressors who were mistreating people, who had troops stationed in Judea, who were extracting their taxes. And if you were a Jew who was a tax collector, you were siding with the enemy.

Sinners are the people that Jesus is spending time with, and they really are sinners. The Pharisees are right about that, but that doesn't make them right about the conclusion.

The Parable of the Prodigal Son

In response to their complaints, Jesus tells us the parable of the prodigal son. And since I already told you the parable of the prodigal son, I'm going to give you a little bit more explanation.

I'm going to give you a paraphrase of the prodigal son parable. We'll call this the "Ted Carnahan translation:"

Once upon a time, there were two sons who worked for their dad, and neither of them loved him very much. And one of them got sick and tired of waiting for the old codger to die. So he had the guts to go to his father and say, "Dad, you're better off dead to me than alive. Just pretend like you're dead. Sell off half your assets. Give me the cash so I can vamoose right now and go and enjoy myself."

That's what he's doing isn't it? He's saying, "You are worthless to me. I want the inheritance."

And so he takes this money and then he goes off and he enjoys himself. He goes off and frankly it's probably wine women and song. It doesn't take him long and he has spent through his entire inheritance. He has used it all up. The money is completely gone.

And it's at that time that something bad happens: A famine comes.

The Prodigal's Desperation

I don't know if any of you listen to Dave Ramsey, but one of the things I appreciate about Dave Ramsey is that he's a financial coach. He uses Christian principles to help people get out of debt and build wealth and that sort of thing. And I like a lot of what he says. Not all of it, but a lot of it. And one of the things that Dave Ramsey says is that when you have an emergency fund, it's like Murphy repellent, right? Murphy's law states that whatever can go wrong will go wrong. So when he runs out of Murphy repellent, Murphy shows up, and there's a famine in the land, and there's not much to eat. And so all he can do, because he has no money, is go get a job.

Well, what's a good Jewish boy going to be doing getting a job? Well, he's going to go out and get a job, and he's working for a farmer, and that farmer sends him to do what many of his servants do. He says, "Go slop those pigs."

Not just because pigs are unpleasant to be around. Hey, look, nothing wrong with being a pig farmer. We have pig farmers here in the congregation. But if you're a Jewish boy, you aren't supposed to have anything to do with pigs. Touching pigs is right out of the question. You can't touch them. You can't own them. You certainly can't eat them.

(Thank Jesus for bacon cheeseburgers. The kosher laws say we can eat pork; otherwise, you wouldn't be able to have that. So every time you have a bacon cheeseburger, I want you to say, "Thank you, Jesus, for this bacon cheeseburger.")

And so this guy gets sent to go slop the pigs, and he does. He's slopping the pigs, and he's humiliated because: look at how far he's fallen! He was the son of a wealthy landowner and farmer, and he has taken all this money. He has squandered it. He is absolutely destitute. Now he's working for some Gentile—some non-Jew—and he's slopping pigs which he should not be doing; it has made him ceremonial and ritually unclean.

And then he gets to the point where he's actually throwing these pods out in front of the pigs and feels his stomach growling. Have you ever been so hungry that something that should not be appealing starts to look kind of good? That's how hungry this kid was.

You wouldn't say, "Oh man, I'm going to enjoy that," but you're saying, "I'd consider eating it."

You ever been that hungry? That's how hungry he is.

And that's when he comes to his senses and realizes:

This is stupid. At least if I went back and worked for my dad I'd have enough money to be able to buy some food to eat. I'm going to go back there; I've got a plan.

*Here's my plan: I'm going to go back. I'm going to fall on my knees...

(And honestly, I don't think that this kid is particularly heartfelt about this. He's not being driven by, "Oh man, I really messed up my old man. I really did a mean thing. That was a terrible thing for me to say." But he does realize that if he goes back to his father, maybe his father will take him on as a hired hand.)

...and I'm going to say, 'Father, I've sinned against heaven and against you. I'm no longer worthy to be called your son, but hire me as one of your hired hands.'

That's his plan. And so he goes back.

The Father's Response

And when he gets back home, his father sees him walking in at the distance and runs to meet him. And when he gets there, he embraces him, and the son begins his plan, right? He says, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I'm no longer,"

And he interrupts him. He says, "Oh, hang on a second. Servants, go get this guy a robe and put a ring on his finger. It's time for him to be celebrated. He's back."

He doesn't even wait for him to finish the part about being a hired hand because his father is not going to take him back as a hired hand; he's taking him back as a son.

And the servants put a robe around him. And that robe is a robe that means that he is a member of the family again.

And then more shockingly than that, they put a ring on his finger. That's not just decoration; this would have been the family's signet ring. That means that he would have the same authority as a member of the family, right? In the era before you wrote with ink, you would have wax and you would press your ring into it; that became proof that you really did say that or you really did order that or whatever.

He presents his signet ring; he says, "Put the ring on his finger."

He's being welcomed back as a son, not as a servant, not as a slave.

You see, he got halfway through his apology, and when he started saying, "Look, I know it's never going to be the same as it once was. Hire me as one of your hired hands, please, in your mercy, or I'm not worthy to be your son."

As soon as he gets to that part, it all changes. He's being welcomed back as a son, not as a servant, not as a slave.

You see, he got halfway through his apology, and then the father says, "Quick, kill the fatted calf (the calf that we set aside and we feed the good stuff so that it tastes extra-special-tasty) and we're going to have ourselves a party."

And they start to celebrate and dance—and there's music and dancing.

The Older Brother’s Reaction

And then in comes the older brother.

Now, I told you in the beginning that this is the story of two sons who didn't love their father very much. The older brother's heart here is twisted by the reality that he has been doing the same thing that his younger brother has been doing. He just didn't have the guts to say it to his father's face. He's waiting for the old codger to die, too, because he wants his half of the inheritance.

When they start celebrating the return of this son, the older brother starts getting very upset. He says, "Look, I've slaved away for you!"

Ah, see, now the slave who has become again a son is here, and the son who always was a son has now become a slave. Why? Because he thinks that being a son just means doing what you're told and hoping and waiting for that old man to croak.

And here comes this older brother, and he says, "I don't want to go into the party. I don't want to celebrate because that son of yours (not my brother) has ruined everything. He's come back. He's going to split the remaining inheritance with me.

And the father says, "Look, we had to celebrate because this brother of yours was lost and now has been found."

Are you the Prodigal or the Older Brother?

Who are you in this story? Are you the prodigal? Have you been wasting your life, wasting the birthright that God has given you?

Most people in our community are baptized, and most people in our community don't go to church. You've been baptized into Christ. You've been given your birthright. You have made a child of God. You have had the water poured upon your forehead, and you have been marked with the cross of Christ forever.

But then how do you live? Do you come back to worship him? Do you come back to be in his presence? Or is God just as good as dead to you for all the good you think he actually does for you?

Have you taken your baptism and thrown it away and treated it of no account? I've done that. I've spent a couple years adrift from the church and not believing in God because I didn't realize the value of what I had as a child of God.

Have you given yourself into the hands of the gospel of feel-good-ism and thinking that the whole point of church is to make you feel warm and fuzzy instead of understanding that it's about being a child of God and receiving correction at the hand of your heavenly Father?

If so, then you're a prodigal, and welcome home! Your Father greets you on the road, and before you start even trying to plan what it is you're going to do to make it right, he has already embraced you. And he has thrown the robe of Jesus' righteousness around your shoulders. And he has clothed you with his own son's clothes. And he has given you the signet ring.

You are now part of the family again. You are welcome in the family of God.

And the reason Jesus told this story is because the prodigal son is easy to judge, right? The Pharisees hearing this story and complaining about Jesus eating with tax collectors and sinners—they would have been smug about this.

Maybe you've been smug about it too. I don't know. Maybe you've been sitting in church for a long time. Maybe you have never been prodigal and would not hang out with people who do—who go off and do things they should not do.

"I don't ever do that," you might say. "I'm a good person."

Blah, blah, blah!

I'm going to tell a funny story about my daughter. When she was little she came to chapel with Jennifer every day. We had chapel at the seminary five days a week.

And at the chapel, she would get up on the chancel afterward one day and climbed up in one of the leader's chairs, and she would sit there and swing her little legs, and she would sing, "Jesus loves me, this I know."

It was very sweet. And then she'd hop down and walk into the middle of the chancel and throw her arms out and say, "Blah, blah, blah!"

She knew good things were happening. She knew Jesus loves her and sang the songs. And she came to chapel but didn't really understand all the stuff that was going on beyond that.

She had been to church a lot more times than most kids her age but it was really not understanding it yet—not up here—definitely in her heart—but not in her head—it was just "blah, blah, blah!"

It's possible to be a good person, to come to church regularly, to be really nice to people, to give a great big offering, to be on the church council, to attend here your whole life, and to think your opinion should count more. "I keep the law religiously. Don't you understand? I'm a good person. I come to church with my halo polished every Sunday."

Blah, blah, blah. Are you just imitating being a Christian? Or do you understand it in your bones?

Welcome Home

Yes, you can see yourself as the prodigal son. And if so, the good news is that the grace of God calls you and welcomes you into His family.

And that plan isn't to say, "Well, I won't ever be welcome as a child of God anymore, but maybe I can kind of hang around the edges. I'll just return home. I'll be an employee of God. I'll just do the right things from now on."

No. You'll come home. And you will be a child in the family: a son or a daughter beloved by your Father. And in your baptism, whether you have treated it as valuable or you've thrown it away as dirty rags, your baptism, the clean white robe of Jesus' righteousness will be wrapped around you.

As Paul said in 2 Corinthians today, Jesus became sin for you so that you might be the righteousness of God. And Jesus' righteousness gets wrapped around you. When He looks at you, He does not see the dirty rags of your sin, but He sees the clean, beautiful righteousness of His Son. You are clothed as a child. You belong here as part of the family.

But more often, it'll be accurate for us who have mostly been around to be the older brother. "God! We whine. That's not fair. We did everything right. We're good people. How can you treat Him and me the same way? You're welcoming and celebrating Him, but what about me?"

That's toddler theology. And you can understand where it comes from, but it's not to be celebrated. The son, the older brother, needs to learn that his father's love extends to both his kids. And he needs to learn that his father is not simply looking for obedient slaves to bear his name, but he's looking for sons and daughters who love him and do good because of love.

Whether you are the older brother who whines because God is gracious to others, or you are the younger brother who knows that you're not worthy and is amazed by God's grace, I want you to know this:

The Father welcomes you. He awaits you. He's sitting on the porch looking for you to come back down the road. He's ready for you to come and join the party, to be part of the family.

• He wants to welcome you in the celebration feast that doesn't end.
• He wants you to remember the love that has belonged to you from the beginning when you were marked with the cross, of Christ in holy baptism.
• He wants you to feast at the table of the Lord's grace in holy communion.
• He wants you to be connected to His love and show that love to others. To be part of the family.

Do not spurn His grace and His patience, but come running home and know the love of God.

And may the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, and minds strong in Christ Jesus, our Lord, to life everlasting. Amen.