Lent 4C Luke 15:11-32

Right after World War II It was a common phenomenon in the Deep South in small towns during the summer months to see a large tent set up on a vacant lot. Traveling evangelists back then, the televangelists of their day, would conduct week long revival tent meetings. In those days before television, it was usually the only show in town. Some of us may remember those tent meetings.

To keep everyone’s attention, especially the small children who were hot and restless on those damp-drenched humid evenings, the evangelist would bring out a felt board. All the children under a certain age were called forward to sit on the ground in front of the felt board. Although the story was supposedly for the children it was really, Jonathan Swift wise, mostly intended for the adults. As he would retell the Gospel story or parable, he would use other layers of colored felt to recreate the scene. Some times the layers of felt became so thick that it seemed three dimensional.

For the week long duration of the tent meeting there was a new felt board story every night. One of the favorites was the story of the prodigal son, retold in ever shifting images of vivid felt. The children would be mesmerized as that difficult and yet too familiar parable came to life in front of their eyes in layers of felt.
In 1636, Rembrandt painted a suggestive portrait of a jaunty, saucy, debonair Prodigal with a pencil-thin moustache. He wears a hat with enough plumage to take flight while hoisting a large flute of ale, itself over a foot tall. There is a young lady on his lap enjoying the fun while (in the original painting) another lass sans clothing plays a mandolin in the background. A peacock pie on the table suggests the arrogance of the scene. In Rembrandt and the Bible, a note says that the great painter used himself as a model for this particular canvas, which might tell us more than we'd like to know about how parables are supposed to work. (1)

In 1986 the late Henri Nouwen, a Dutch theologian and writer, toured St. Petersburg, Russia, the former Leningrad. While there he visited the famous Hermitage where he saw, among other things, Rembrandt’s painting of the Prodigal Son. The painting was in a hallway and received the natural light of a nearby window. Newman stood for two hours, mesmerized by this remarkable painting. As he stood there the sun changed, and at every change of the light’s angle he saw a different aspect of the painting revealed. He would later write: “There were as many paintings in the Prodigal Son as there were changes in the day.” (2)

Parables were one of Jesus’ favorite ways of teaching. They were not just stories – they were stories with a point, often a point that required some thinking effort on the part of the listener before it could be completely -- or even imperfectly -- understood. Because of the nature of parables, especially those told by Jesus, parables unfold ever deeper and more complex layers of meaning the more they are contemplated. Jesus used parables to teach his followers and also to confuse and confound his enemies and critics. One commentator has defined parables this way: “At its simplest, the parable is a metaphor or simile drawn from nature or from common life, arresting the hearer by its vividness or strangeness, and leaving the mind in sufficient doubt about its precise application to tease it into active thought.” (3)

It is hard for us to see something new in the parable of the Prodigal Son. We have heard the story so many times we believe that we have squeezed it dry of meaning. Not only that, but, as the saying goes, familiarity breeds contempt. When we hear the opening words of the parable once again, “And there was a Father who had two sons,” we greet the words with ho-hum. Heard it. Heard it. Heard it.(2)

Yet it is in the very nature of parables that they cannot be taken literally; they must be interpreted. The listeners become active participants in the communication of the message carried by the parable and begin to offer interpretations according to the way the parable speaks to each of them uniquely at any given time the parable is contemplated. Parables are not used by speakers – and certainly not by Jesus – to control the listeners by telling them exactly what to think and to do about the message of the parable. That is also why parables are often not well received by those who wish to tell or be told what to do, to think, and to believe. Control is lost but participation, active teasing of the mind, is gained in the use of parables because parables must be interpreted if the message is to be received, even though that message might change from listener to listener and from day to day. And context is always important for understanding these stories that Jesus tells.

Just as Henri Nouwen saw many different and shifting facets to Rembrandt’s painting of the Prodigal Son, so too are there many different angles to the story itself. (2)

So where are we at parable's end? Are we inside the party celebrating? Or are we standing outside with our arms folded, refusing to come in? J esus will not tell us how this story will end. The father passionately invites the older son inside, "pleads with him" to join in the welcome. Curiously, however, we are never told what the older brother decides to do. The story ends but it doesn't end. Will we go willingly to a party thrown by the God who loves us? Or will we stay pouting outside? This parable forces us to make a choice. Who is the real "prodigal" here? Who is the real "wastrel"? From the beginning Jesus says that this is a story about two brothers. Which one is the authentic prodigal? Which one has yet to come home to the Father's extravagant love? (1)

This parable teaches us that the forgiveness and love of God is beyond reason and beyond any human concept of fairness. We learn that God is a spendthrift, giving away what God has to those God loves. No human being can forgive so absolutely or completely embrace the depth of God's forgiveness and love. The parable is a story that is almost too good to be true. It, like God's unconditional love, is almost beyond belief. (4) AMEN




1. The Waster, a sermon by Frank G. Honeycutt, Sermons on the Gospel Reading, Cycle C, Frank G. Honeycutt, CSS Publishing, 2003, eSermons. Note referenced is Hidde Hoekstra, Rembrandt and the Bible (Weert, Netherlands: Magna Books, 1990), p. 337.
2. Brett Blair and Staff of eSermons for Lent 4C, ChristianGlobe.com
3. C.H. Dodd, as quoted in Fred B. Craddock, Luke, John Knox Press, 1990, p.108. The discussion of parables is taken from pp. 109 – 110.
4. Selected Sermons for Lent 4C 2007, Worship That Works, dfms.org