Weekly Sermon of
Fr. Dave Johnson

Episcopal Church of the Resurrection 

“Good News for Prodigals” (Luke 15:20) 

March 30, 2025 

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In the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. 

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The fifteenth chapter of the Gospel According to Luke is one of the high-water marks in all scripture. Jesus was enjoying a meal with notorious sinners, and some Pharisees and tax collectors had gathered around, and as they were wont to do, they began grumbling, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” Of course, Jesus welcomed sinners, he always did and still does. Jesus responds with three parables in a row about the compassion of God for lost sinners. 

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First, Jesus tells about a shepherd who owns one hundred sheep and leaves the ninety-nine safe sheep to find the single lost one. After finding the lost sheep, the shepherd carries it home and throws a party to celebrate. Then Jesus tells about a woman who owns ten coins but loses one, and how she searches and sweeps the house until she finds it—and then throws a party to celebrate. Jesus goes on to say that each of these parties celebrating the finding of what was lost pales in comparison to the heavenly celebration of the angels when a sinner repents. 

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Then Jesus tells a third parable about God’s compassion for lost sinners, the parable of the prodigal son, the parable that perhaps more than other, reveals the unconditional love of God. In the three parables the stakes of what is lost increase greatly, from one of a hundred sheep to one of ten coins, to one of two sons. In his profound 1992 book about this parable entitled The Return of the Prodigal, the late Catholic priest and author Henri Nouwen observes that each of these three parables demonstrates God’s initiative in saving sinners: 

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In all three parables Jesus tells in response to the question of why he eats with sinners, he puts the emphasis on God’s initiative. God is the shepherd who goes looking for his lost sheep. God is the woman who lights a lamp, sweeps out the house, and searches everywhere for her lost coin until she has found it. God is the father who watches and waits for his children, runs out to meets them, embraces them, pleads with them, begs and urges them to come home (106). 

 

In the parable of the prodigal son the younger of two sons asks his father for his part of his inheritance now, rather than at his father’s death, in and of itself an audacious request. And yet the father simply gives his son what he asked—no disclaimers, no restrictions, no advice. Luke writes, “A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living” until “he had spent everything.” He was broke, filthy, and so desperate he resorted to feeding pigs. Since Jews deemed pigs as unclean and unfit to eat to feed pigs meant the young man had hit rock bottom. 

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Yet, it was at that rock bottom when as Luke tells us “he came to himself.” In other words, he came to his senses, he repented. He decided to go back to his father, not as a son, but as a servant. He even had a speech prepared: “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.” Broke, exhausted, and smelling like the pigs he had been feeding, he begins trudging home. 

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It is not uncommon for people to squander something given to them, or to run out of money and run out of options, only to resort to returning home. For some who hit rock bottom, returning home is not an option—but when it comes to God, returning home is always an option, especially when you hit rock bottom. When it comes to God, you can always come home. Some of you here today feel like you have hit rock bottom somehow in your life—if that’s you, you’re in the right place. 

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One of my favorite progressive rock bands is Genesis, especially when the incredible Phil Collins was the lead singer. In 1991 Genesis had a hit called “No Son of Mine” about, like this parable, a son who leaves home under questionable circumstances and later returns home, hoping to reconcile with his father: 

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I rang the bell with my heart in my mouth

I had to hear what he’d say 

He sat me down to talk to me, he looked me straight in the eyes

He said, You’re no son, you're no son of mine

You’re no son, you’re no son of mine

You walked out, you left us behind and you’re no son, you’re no son of mine 

Oh, his words how they hurt me, I’ll never forget it

And as the time, it went by, I lived to regret it

 

What happened when the prodigal son returned home? Did his father sit him down, look him straight in the eye and say, “You’re no son of mine”? No. The father did the polar opposite. In one of the most moving verses in scripture Luke writes, “while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him” (Luke 15:20). At that time, it was considered shameful and undignified for an elderly man to hike up his robe and run in public, but that did not matter to the father who had glanced down that road countless times, hoping beyond hope to see what at last he saw, his son returning home. His father ran to him because he was more concerned with demonstrating his love for his son than he was protecting his dignity. 

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“While he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion”… Instead of being filled with judgment, or filled with anger, the father was “filled with compassion.” While his father is hugging and kissing him the son begins his rehearsed speech, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son…” In that moment the father could have said, “Yeah, you’re right. You have sinned against me. You squandered in a short time what it took me decades to earn. You are a disgrace to this family, and you have made a fool of me. And now you have the audacity to come home? Really?” Thankfully, that was not the father’s response to his son—and thankfully, that is never God’s response to you. 

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The father does not even let his filthy son finish his speech before he begins ordering his servants to throw a party. “Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one, and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.” Each of these items represented something very significant. The robe was a ceremonial gift for the guest of honor, the ring denoted authority, and the sandals signified sonship. In other words, the father immediately forgave and restored his son on the spot—no lecture, no family meeting, no silent treatment, no probationary period—instead, total forgiveness and total restoration. That’s what God’s forgiveness looks like. 

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And the father was not done. “And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate, for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!” Instead of the father telling his prodigal son, “You’re no son of mine,” he welcomed him home and referred to him as “this son of mine.” The fatted calf was for special occasions, so the father was sparing no expense. 

 

“While he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion”… Scripture tells us “All we like sheep have gone astray; we have all turned to our own way” (Isaiah 53:6). Each of us is a prodigal son who has run away from God and squandered his gifts on various forms of “dissolute living.” And yet, in the same way the father was “filled with compassion” for his prodigal son, Jesus is filled with compassion for us—as Matthew put it, “When (Jesus) saw the crowds, he had compassion for them” (Matthew 9:36)—same Greek word for “compassion.” Back to The Return of the Prodigal by Henri Nouwen…listen: 

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For most of my life I have struggled to find God, to know God, to love God. I have tried hard to follow the guidelines of the spiritual life—pray always, work for others, read the Scriptures—and to avoid the many temptations to dissipate myself. I have failed many times but always tried again, even when I was close to despair….Now I wonder whether I have sufficiently realized that during all this time God has been trying to find me, to know me, and to love me. The question is not “How am I to find God?” but “How am I to let myself be found by him?” The question is not “How am I to know God?” but “How am I to let myself be known by God?” And, finally, the question is not “How am I to love God?” but “How am I to let myself be loved by God?” God is looking into the distance for me, trying to find me, and longing to bring me home (106). 

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And what was true for Henri Nouwen is true for you: God is looking into the distance for you, trying to find you, and longing to bring you home. 

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God was so filled with compassion for our world full of lost sinners, our world full of prodigal sons, including you, he sent his Son Jesus Christ, to die on the cross, to atone for all the times you have squandered God’s gifts in dissolute living, and to bring you home. On Good Friday Jesus was more concerned about demonstrating his love for you than he was protecting his dignity. 

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“While he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion”… that is good news of the gospel for prodigals. In the same way the father was filled with compassion for his returning son, God is filled with compassion for you. 

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Amen.