You may or may not know this about me, but I am a gadget person. I love little electronic gadgets and I have a small collection of them. And among those gadgets, my favorite is my iPod. It turn our, a few weeks ago I lost my iPod. Julie will tell you that it is nothing more than a glorified toy. But I bet to differ. There may be a few “fun” apps on it. But it also keeps my schedule for me, my to do list. I have it loaded with several versions of the Bible, including the Greek and Hebrew. In spite of what those naysayers might believe, I find it to be a tool that helps me to do my job more efficiently.
Or at least it was... until I lost it. I have no idea where it went. I have racked my brain trying to figure out where I was and what I did when it disappeared. I have torn apart every cupboard, basket, bag, pocket and box that I could think of. Yet in spite of all my efforts and in spite of the hours and even days I spent trying to remember where I would have placed it, I could not find it. I never found it. I wound up having to replace it.
Perhaps you have had a similar experience. We loose things all the time; iPods, cell phones, car keys, tickets, checks, cash, coins, television remotes – all kinds of things. We hate loosing them. We look for them. We are troubled when we cannot find them and once again have them and use them. It's frustrating.
My fellow Christians, if only we would search for our lost brothers and sisters with the same fervor that we search for our iPods.
This is the point of our parable today. Or at least one of them.
Luke tells us that Jesus was eating with tax collectors and sinners and it turns our that the pharisees and scribes were critical. How could a righteous man spend time with sinners? How could he sit with them? Talk with them? Be in the same room with them? Or Worse, at the same table with them? They called him out on what they thought was a compromising religious position. Jesus was turning himself into a low down and dirty sinner, along with all those tax collectors and prostitutes. Doesn't he know that “bad company corrupts good character.”
Normally it does. Normally good character gets involved with bad company because it seems fun and attractive. Not with Jesus. Jesus gets invovled with bad company because that bad company is lost and needs to be found. Jesus set them straight. He told three parables back to back. Lost Sheep. Lost Coin. And this one, the one that we call the Prodigal Son, but in its context we might call it the Lost Son. A parable about a son who (as the father says at the end of the parable) was lost and is found.
In each case there is something lost; a sheep, a coin, a son. And in each case the shepherd who lost his sheep, the woman who lost her coin, the father who lost his son was not content until the thing lost was found; and in each case, after the one lost was found, there is a party. A celebration. There is joy and elation because what was lost is found and restored to its rightful place.
Jesus goes after those who are lost to bring them back so that they might be found. But are we sometimes like those pharisees and scribes? Are we sometimes like the older son in the parable who stood off at a distance and wouldn't go in to the party and celebrate at the return of his brother? Do we, at times, look down on those who are lost? Do we shun those who are sinners? Do we refuse to reach out in love? Do we fear that we might get ourselves a little dirty? Are we afraid of what our friends might say and keep away from those who are lost?
Perhaps we are. Perhaps we do.
The sin of the Pharisees was that they sized up the sinner by the size of the sin. Tax collecting, prostitution, or in our own day – drugs, alcoholism, all kinds of addictions, adultery, abortion - those are the big sins and therefore those are the big sinners. But... we tell ourselves, a little jealousy here, some gossip there, maybe throw in a small amount of coveting or some lust, that's harmless, that's normal. Right? So we think. We measure and compare sins like fisherman and their fish or like farmers and their tractors, like brides-to-be with their engagement rings. “The bigger the sin, the bigger the sinner.” Or so we think.
Truth be told, there are not small sinners because there are no small sins – not where God is concerned. Every sin is a damning sin. Every sin has death and hell as its payout.
So while we measure and compare and size one another up, we drive away those who we feel are the worst among us. Sinners, those we have labeled as the big sinners, carry their guilt and shame like a scarlet letter emblazoned on their jackets. Meanwhile the rest of us, like the scribes and pharisees, like the older son, sit around and gossip about them, point fingers at them, and tell ourselves that we are glad we are not like them. Instead we spend more time looking for our keys and our remote controls and our iPods then we do looking for our lost brothers and sisters.
But not Jesus. Jesus is the shepherd who leaves the 99. Jesus leaves the safe bet and wastes his time chasing around the runners. He follows them through think and thin, over hill and vale. Through hell or high water so that he can catch them when they have fallen and carry them back when they have come to the end. Jesus will not be denied the rediscovery of those he loses.
Or consider the Father in our text here today. First of all, he doesn't deny the son his request. In spite of his son's hurtful and selfish and foolish request the father gives in. God doesn't ever force us to stay. When sinners choose their sin over God's salvation he always permits us to go our way. Just as with this son. “Dad I want my inheritance now. Waiting until your dead is too long to wait for me to get my hands on your money. Give it to me now.” The father says “Yes.” Our Father says “Yes.”
The son goes out to squander the wealth of his father. Just like rebellious Christians squander their inheritance and trash their baptism, lay aside our Bibles, despise the Lord's body and blood. And likewise this son, He exchanged the house of his father for the temporary glitz of the outside world. He lived “big and rich” a real high roller. But soon his big wad of cash became a pile of pennies so he had nothing. The extravagant son was poverty stricken.
Perhaps that has been you. Perhaps that has been someone you know. Leaving the comfort and protection of God's house to follow the flashing lights on the world's marquee.
The Father permitted the son to have his foolishness. He let him go, but that was not the end of the story. He didn't write his son off. He never treated him like death. Instead He waited for his return. He hoped for and longed for his return.
God's waiting is different from our waiting. God's waiting is active waiting. He pursues while he waits. He sends out his Holy Spirit who convicts and draws and calls and reminds. And in the mean time he waits.
Or Jesus, the shepherd, Jesus the coin dealer, he searches. He seeks. He pursues. He chases. He stops and nothing and goes through everything to find what he has lost.
So often, we think of it as a lost cause. A wasted effort. Why bother. So often we won't even try. We don't know what to say. We don't know what to do. We don't know how to do it. And so we do nothing.
“But what can I do?” You might ask. You can pray. (Don't stop praying. God hears your prayers.) You can write, call, text, send an email – we are more connected today than we have ever been – why let the devil own the technology, lets use it against him.
It doesn't have to be much. You don't have to win an argument. It doesn't have to be an argument. Just a word. An invitation. Letting him know you missed him. Letting her know she is still welcome. There is a place for sinners in Christ's church. There would have to be, or we wouldn't be here. Christ invites sinners to return.
And just like in the parable, the Father waits. He scans the horizon thinking maybe today is the day. Maybe this is the day she'll return. Maybe this is the day I'll see the one I love who left.
But what of the sin. Every wandering sheep comes back a little dirty. The hills and valleys have a way of leaving us with some bumps and bruises, some breaks and strains. Or like the son who was unclean and unworthy. We squandered everything, had nothing and was unfit to be called a son.
Well, its true, bad company does corrupt good character. And so Jesus goes to be with the bad company so that he could become the bad company. Jesus lived with us and among us so that he could be us without ever doing the things that we do so that he could make a trade. He became the bad company and gave us His good character.
And when the son finally returned, when he finally repented of his wrong and came back still smelling of his sin, the father covered him – a new robe. The best robe. And ring on his hand – not a servant but a son. And a party.
And what a party it was. The fattened calf! Not just a meat tray from the local deli. Not just pulling a few steak from the freezer. The fattened calf. Fillet Mignon. He went all out. His son who was lost has been found.
Can you imagine? A party for you, you as the guest of honor in heaven.
We've all seen it before. A team wins the big game, a championship, and the cameras go into the locker room to catch the celebration. There is dancing, singing, hand slapping, hugs. Smiles. High fives. Laughing. Champagne. And why not. It's a victory celebration. And that for a game.
That's the scene in heaven. The celebration for the victory when a sinner returns home to her Heavenly Father.
Amen.
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