Willing to Be Found?

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But the Pharisees and teachers of the law muttered, “This man welcomes sinners …” (Luke 15:2).

As we’ve seen so far this week, the parable of the prodigal son is told in response to some religious leaders who are calling into question Jesus’ willingness to enjoy the company of people whom the religious people knew to be “sinners.”  Light cannot enjoy fellowship with darkness, right?  Holiness is polluted by too-close contact with unholiness, right?  If the righteous spend too much time getting too close with the unrighteous, that will blur the lines for everyone, right?  So, Jesus, why are you welcoming sinners and even eating with them?

These are good and fair questions.   Jesus gives them a subversive lost-and-found story in response.

He sets things up with two short lost-and-found stories: a shepherd and one lost sheep, a woman and one lost coin.  In each story, the “God character” goes to unusual lengths to seek and save what has been lost.  The shepherd searches until he finds the lost sheep.  The woman sweeps and searches until she finds her missing coin.

Then, some changes.  A father has two sons.  The younger demands his inheritance, cashes it in, and severs connection with his family.  And the father does not run off in search of his son.  If you’ve been listening, this surprises you.  Shepherd loses sheep and goes off in search of it until he finds it.  Woman loses coin and searches until she finds it.  Father “loses” son … and stays home?

It isn’t the father who has “lost” his son; it’s the son who “loses” his father.  And until the son is willing to be found, the father waits.  

We like to read this parable as a “teaching about repentance”: the naughty younger son finally “comes to his senses” and repents by returning home.  But that’s really not what happens.  The younger son is preparing to return home – on his own terms.  “Father,” he prepares to say, “I have sinned against heaven and against you.  I am no longer fit to be called your son.  Make me one of your hired hands.”  He’s not being repentant; he’s being practical: “How many of my father’s hired hands have plenty to eat!  Aha: here’s what I’ll do …”

As he draws near to his home village, his father sees him coming and races off to meet him.  We tend to read this as the father’s joy and gratitude towards his returning son; what Jesus says is the father is filled with compassion.  Compassion pays attention to a person’s condition more than to his motivations.  I think this father knows this son well enough to know that he may or may not be truly sorry for what he’s done.  And the father also knows what the villagers will think and do, regardless of the son’s motivations or sincerity: they will drive him off.

Only the father can remake this bedraggled beggar into a son.  And this son is only willing to be found as he allows the father to re-clothe him with the signs and symbols of sonship: robe, ring, sandals.  He is found as he allows the father to do for him what he cannot do for himself: give him what he could never earn, never deserved.

And the older brother? Everything he says and does indicates that he does not know his father at all, which means he is lost.  Is he willing to be found?

What would “willing to be found” look like for the older son?

Where do you need to be willing to be found by God?  What might “willing to be found” look like for you?

3 Comments

Thanks, Terry and Jan! We writers are very grateful for regular and *responsive* readers!
The thought that the younger son is returning on his own terms is a helpful insight that never occured to me previously. This frees the parent of the prodigal from being the judge, jury and exectutioner on the returning prodigal's motivation and spiritual and moral state. This portrays God's mercy to us and reveals how we should show mercy to others. Thank you so much B&K.
I finally realized the older son represents the pharisees who did not truly know their father. The younger son is the sinners who through their neediness were open to being reunited to God through Jesus's compassion.

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