Lost and Found

The fifteenth chapter of Luke is one of the most beloved and familiar chapters in all of the Gospels.  The joy of the shepherd finding the lost sheep, the woman finding the lost coin, the father finding his lost son, each story builds on the one before to warm us and teach us about the mercy of God.  Yet, familiarity can keep us from seeing the rest of the story.

Jesus, like other Jewish rabbis of his day, often used parallelism in his talks.  He would tell the same message in two of three similar ways.  This broadens its appeal as the stories reinforce each other.  But Jesus frequently twists our thinking, for he taught as no others did – with authority, we are told; as the Son of God, we believe. 

Parallelism is pretty obvious in Luke 15.  Someone loses something, searches diligently for it, finds it, and a joyous celebration ensues.  The lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost son all teach God’s unconditional love and desire for us.  We are comforted that no matter how desperate our straits, God stands ready to run to us – imagine God running to us! – and welcome us with open arms.  No matter how far we stray, no matter how bad we’ve been, God will not love us any less, for His love has always been and will always be – infinite, universal, and unconditional.

We are comforted by these thoughts, yet we usually live as if we don’t really believe it, for we pay little attention to the rest of the story.  The parable of the lost, or prodigal, son is not simply a restatement of the lost sheep and lost coin.  To understand why, we look at the context of this chapter, for many of the parables in Luke’s gospel can only be fully appreciated in the context of the narrative.

The chapter opens with the following scene:  “The tax collectors and the sinners were all gathering around Jesus to hear him, at which the Pharisees and the scribes were murmuring, ‘This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.’  Then Jesus addressed this parable to them.”

Taking the parables out of this context, we hear them as if Jesus is consoling the taxpayers and the sinners, giving them – and us – the consolation that they are always sought by God; that God always rejoices in finding them.  But Jesus is not addressing the tax collectors and sinners; he is speaking to the Pharisees and the scribes.  Certainly, they did not consider themselves lost in any sense.  They were already the obedient ones, the holy ones.  They were where they were supposed to be.  And thus the final story, “the parable” that Jesus addresses to the Pharisees – not the parable of a lost son – but a story that begins:  “A man had two sons.”

Seen with the eyes of those who thought they were already there, the elder son becomes the true parallel of the lost sheep, the lost coin.  He is lost and he doesn’t know it.  He sees no need to return for he has always been there – working hard for his father, obeying his father’s every command.  But it gets worse.  Because he feels his own actions have justified his position – the Bible calls that “self-righteous” – he cannot share his father’s joy.  He cannot believe Jesus’ message of love.

  

He becomes angry, indignant, that his father does not love him more than his wastrel brother.  He limits God’s infinite love, put conditions on God’s unconditional mercy.  For him, God’s mercy is not a grace or a gift, but something which must be earned, a reward for those who have worked hard to deserve it.

But Jesus insists that deserving has nothing to do with.  God does not love us for what we do; we are loved simply for who we are – God’s children created in God’s own image. The lost sheep and the lost coin did nothing to deserve being found.  The younger son knew he was undeserving, and never expected to be received as a son again, yet his father’s love embraced and overwhelmed him beyond any mere human expectation. 

We cannot mar or enhance that image in which we are made – it is God’s image, God’s work, God’s gift.  We cannot subtract from or add to the love that God has for us – it is already greater than we can possibly imagine or deserve.  And this is true of everyone, not just those who attend church every Sunday, not just those who faithfully follow the commandments.  God seeks the return of every single person, whether our fallible, limited, human eyes see and judge them as the holiest of saints or the most debased of sinners.

In many ways, I find myself sharing in the older son’s consternation.  I become angry when I don’t get what I know I deserved by my hard work.  I look for reasons why others don’t deserve my love, or even God’s love.  Certainly, I should exclude these people from my life and even my prayers.  Perhaps they have done such great harm to me or mine, that I believe they deserve nothing but death.   And then I am as lost as older son, as lost as the scribes and the Pharisees who rejected Jesus. 

Luke leaves the story open-ended.  The father pleads with his son to put aside his indignation, his anger, and his bitterness.  He pleads with his son to realize, to accept, to share in and to spread the joy of God’s undeserved, yet everlasting love. 

The father is left waiting for the son’s answer.  He still waits today.  He’s waiting for my answer.  He’s waiting for yours.