Sunday Inspiration: Sunday, June 23, 2024
The Tale of Two Brothers - Part One
“This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them” (Luke 15: 2). This is how it started. This is what motivated Jesus to tell three stories about lost things, lost animals, and lost people. The religious elite criticized his eating habits, questioned his motives, and interrogated him on his mission. Three stories to demonstrate his purpose.
A farmer has one hundred sheep. One carelessly wonders off. The farmer leaves ninety-nine sheep behind to go look for one lost sheep. When he finds it, he calls his friends and neighbors to celebrate.
A woman loses a valuable coin. She turns her house upside down to find it, going door to door when she does, inviting her neighbors to join her in the celebration.
Then there is the tale of two sons. The rebel. The perfectionist. A father who loved both. The youngest set out on a path of destructive selfishness. The oldest stayed close to home but lived in judgment and jealousy. Regardless of where they found themselves, both brothers were lost. Both needed grace.
Today and next week, we will explore the tale of the two brothers. In the parable, the brothers are two different individuals, but if we are honest with ourselves, we have a little bit of both. We can quickly turn from asking forgiveness for ourselves to denying forgiveness for others. When it comes to ourselves, we want a God of mercy. But when it comes to others, we want a God of fairness.
In his memoir In the Sanctuary of Outcast, Neil White recounts his eighteen-month federal prison sentence for bank fraud. Neil was not sent to any ordinary prison. He was sent to a leprosarium in Carville, Louisiana. He and other similar inmates who had been convicted of white-collar crimes shared space with the last people in America disfigured by leprosy. In the early days of his stay, Neil does everything possible to avoid being near Hansen’s diseased outcasts. Over time, after learning more about the condition, he befriends several of them. He comes to admire their tenacity as they cope with the cruelty of their condition and live in a world where they are forgotten.
One evening, the lepers were holding their annual spring dance. The inmates were assigned to set up tables and sound equipment in the ballroom. The party started before they were able to leave the room. Patients limp and wheel and slide onto the dance floor. Scarred limbs in the air and disfigured faces radiate joy as they move to the music. An elderly woman motions for Neil to dance with her. As they move around the dance floor, suddenly, the party is interrupted by a leper named Smeltzer. He screams out, “You are not invited! No inmates at our party! You are not welcome here. Get out!” Quietly, Neil and the other inmates exit through the door.
Neil writes in his memoir, “We just got kicked out of a lepers dance.”
Have you ever felt that low? Have you ever felt that you were not even welcome at a party for the unwelcomed? Sometimes, a divorce can make us feel that low. We are not sure how our old friends will receive us. We are not sure what the neighbors are saying. A battle with an addiction where we have hurt those we love leaves us in a place of unwelcome. Sometimes, those who have a spouse or a child who has committed suicide are left feeling ostracized. They feel that the questions are being directed back towards them. They are afraid to leave the house.
Sometimes, it is just being the baby in the family and always feeling judged by the accomplishments of the older brother or sister. Living under the constant shadow of someone more successful than you can drive a person to do irrational things. We don’t know what drove the younger brother in the story to demand his father’s inheritance. It may have just been simple selfishness. It could have been a rebellious streak. It could have been he was tired of playing by the rules of the house. Regardless, he finds himself neck-deep in pig mud. A big-time player turns into a big-time loser. He starts out in a righteous home and ends up in a pig sty. He plays his father’s love to claim a portion of his father’s fortune and then blows it on a binge. He abuses it, and he strays from it. He squandered it, and now he wants to return it broken.
This is where Jesus gets so irritating. I have enough religion in me that I can understand letting him back in the house. But maybe he should come in through the backdoor. Let’s let him eat in his room by himself. Let’s put him on probation, a trial period. We need to create a schedule so that he can work off some of the money he took from the old man. There is a lesson or two that this boy needs to learn.
A party. Are we going to throw this kid a party? Here is where it gets challenging. If I were the kid, I would long for mercy. But If I am the one asked to show mercy, I might need proof that you have changed.
The word prodigal means wasteful and reckless. If you ask me, we need to rename this parable. If anyone is being reckless and wasteful, it is the father. The kid hasn’t even apologized. The father cut him short of a full apology. He saw him coming. He didn’t wait until he got to the front door. He hiked up his skirt for all the town folks to see, ran across the field, and embraced his irresponsible son.
Ernest Hemingway once wrote a short story called "The Capital of the World." In it, he told the story of an estranged father and his teenage son. The son’s name was Paco. He had wronged his father. In his shame, he had run away from home.
In the story, the father searches all over Spain for Paco, but he still cannot find the boy. Finally, in the city of Madrid, in a last desperate attempt to find his son, the father places an ad in the daily newspaper. The ad reads: "PACO, MEET ME AT THE HOTEL MONTANA. NOON TUESDAY. ALL IS FORGIVEN. LOVE, PAPA."
Eight hundred Pacos showed up in front of the newspaper office the next day. They were all seeking forgiveness and the love of their father.
If your name is Paco or Tony or Julie or Sherry and you feel that you have no one searching for you, then I want you to know that God will seek out every Meth house or Methodist Church, Bar or Baptist or Hell hole or dark valley until you are found. The world may have given up, your family may have quit searching, and your friends left you alone, but God is on the hunt and won’t stop until you know you are loved. God’s capacity for finding us is greater than our talent for getting lost.
For those of us worried about our wayward children, friends, or family members, I want you to know that it is not their remorse that forces God to set a banquet table; it is not their desire to start over that causes God to kill the fatted calf, and it is not their getting their life together that causes God to be on edge until they return home. God’s love is unconditional, limitless, and soaked in grace.
Grace is not just a gift to be received but a gift to be given. How do we put it into practice?
First, Reflect on your own need for grace. We all have moments when we feel lost or unworthy. Remember that God’s grace is available to you, no matter where you are or what you have done. Embrace it fully and allow it to transform your life.
Secondly, Celebrate reconciliation. When someone returns, when they find their way back, celebrate them. Be the friend, the neighbor, or the family member who rejoices in their restoration. Throw a party, not just metaphorically, but literally, if you can. Show them that their return is a cause for joy.
Thirdly, Be a person who shows grace. In our community, we should be known as the person who welcomes sinners and eats with them. Break down barriers of judgment and prejudice. Show that grace is not about deserving but about love that knows no bounds.
God relentlessly pursues what is lost and celebrates our return. This is the heart of God's love—unconditional, limitless, and soaked in grace. Let’s be people who seek after God’s heart.
One of my favorite stories in Philip Yancey’s excellent book, What’s So Amazing About Grace, comes from an article in The Boston Globe about an unusual wedding banquet:
Accompanied by her fiancé, a new bride-to-be scheduled a wedding banquet at the Hyatt Hotel in downtown Boston. The two pored over the menu, selected china and silver, and pointed to pictures of flower arrangements they liked. They both had expensive taste, and the bill came to $13,000. After leaving a check for half that amount as a down payment, the couple went home to flip through books of wedding announcements.
The day the announcements were supposed to hit the mailbox, the potential groom got cold feet. “I’m just not sure,” he said. “It’s a big commitment. Let’s think about this a little longer.”
When his angry fiancée returned to the Hyatt to cancel the banquet, the Events Manager could not have been more understanding. “The same thing happened to me, Honey,” she said, telling the story of her broken engagement. But about the refund, she had bad news. “The contract is binding. You’re only entitled to $1,300 back. You have two options: to forfeit the rest of the down payment or go ahead with the banquet. I’m sorry. Really, I am.”
It seemed crazy, but the more the jilted bride thought about it, the more she liked the idea of going ahead with the party – not a wedding banquet, mind you, but a big blowout. Ten years before, this same woman had been living in a homeless shelter. She had got back on her feet, found a good job, and set aside a sizable nest egg. Now, she had the wild notion of using her savings to treat the down-and-outs of Boston to a night on the town.
And so it was that in June of 1990, the Hyatt Hotel in downtown Boston hosted a party like it had never seen before. The hostess changed the menu to boneless chicken “in honor of the groom,” she said – and sent invitations to rescue missions and homeless shelters. That warm summer night, people who used to eat half-gnawed pizza off the cardboard from the trash dined on china and silver. Hyatt waiters in tuxedos served hors d’oeuvres to senior citizens propped up by crutches and aluminum walkers. Bag ladies, vagrants, and addicts took one night off from the hard life of the sidewalks outside and instead sipped champagne, ate chocolate wedding cake, and danced to big-band melodies late into the night.
Grace. Grace is being welcomed to a party by someone who came to eat with sinners. Grace is God throwing parties for the wrong kind of people—people like us. Grace is underserving people being invited to a table being provided for simply out of the grace of God. Amazing grace.
Discussion Questions
How does the father’s unconditional acceptance of the prodigal son challenge our ideas of justice and fairness?
In what ways can we practice unconditional grace in our own relationships?
How can we create opportunities to extend grace and hospitality to those who are often overlooked or marginalized?
How does the idea that “God’s capacity for finding us is greater than our talent for getting lost” impact your understanding of God’s love?
In what ways can you actively participate in God’s mission to seek and save the lost in your community?
Prayer
Gracious God, Remind us that Your love is not reserved for the perfect but freely given to all who turn towards You. We pray for those who feel unwelcome, have been cast out, and are burdened by guilt and shame. May they find refuge in Your unwavering love. Give us the courage to be like the father in the story of the prodigal son, run towards those who need forgiveness, and offer unconditional love.
Lord, we ask for the strength to reflect on our need for grace, celebrate the return of those who find their way back to You, and be agents of Your grace in our community. Help us break down judgment and prejudice barriers, welcome sinners, and share meals with them, just as Jesus did.
We pray in Jesus' name, who ate with sinners and welcomed them into Your kingdom. Amen.
Benediction
Go forth with hearts open to God's relentless pursuit, knowing that His love for you is unconditional and His grace is without end. May we reflect this love in our actions, celebrating reconciliation, showing grace to others, and being beacons of hope in our community.
May the peace of Christ, which surpasses all understanding, guard your hearts and minds. May the Father's joy, the Son's grace, and the Holy Spirit's fellowship be with you now and always. Amen.