Who are you most like in today’s parable? The younger son, demanding his inheritance early, treated his father as if he was already dead. This guy was the screw-up, the rebel, the one who failed to measure up. And maybe he was sorry for what he did, and maybe not. Was he yearning to reconcile with dad, or was he just hungry, scared, and desperate? And then there’s big brother. Responsible, serious, obedient, working oh so hard.Understandably he was resentful of his brother. Jealous, bitter, frustrated, a party-pooper.

And finally, the father. Was he just a terrible parent, unbelievably indulgent, unable to say “no” to an outrageous request? Or maybe this guy was a really smart, strategic, patient and courageous parent, who suspected there was no cure for his son’s irresponsibility and wildness except for him to crash and burn. And then there’s the father’s incredibly countercultural way of relating to both of his sons. As a man of a certain age, he was supposed to be restrained and dignified. Instead, he was watching the road day and night with vigilance. When the father spotted his son from far off, he was “filled with compassion.” The word, compassion, in Greek, splagchnizomai, is based on a Greek noun that means “internal organs.”^[1] The father’s compassion was not any kind of noble, controlled response. It was a messy, gut-centered outpouring of emotion. And running to meet the boy, like a kid? That was simply not done by grown men in a patriarchal society. Similarly, the father showed deep humility in going out to the fields to speak with his elder son who refused to come in.

Let’s recall why, according to Luke, Jesus told this story. Jesus was confronted by religious leaders who were bothered by the company he was keeping. Jesus told these grumblers a total of three parables—the first features one lost sheep the shepherd leaves the flock to find, and the next is a story about a woman who sweeps her house relentlessly to recover one lost coin. Both stories, like today’s, feature a big, joyful celebration at the end! Both the shepherd and the woman call together their friends and neighbors for a party.  

And so I’ve come to wonder if the party at the end of today’s story is the point. Perhaps Jesus tells this story to reveal just how extravagant, messy, surprising, abundant and unfair God’s love and grace really is. The father didn’t wait to throw a party until he was sure his younger son was sorry, or until he had paid back what he wasted, or until he had proven he could be responsible. The father didn’t wait to celebrate until his elder son could let go of his tight-fisted jealousy, could open his heart to his brother, could treat him like a real brother, and not just his father’s other son.  

It’s not that repentance is unimportant. However, if repentance is going to happen, it can’t be coerced. It comes from a grateful heart, a healed heart, a heart that feels unconditionally loved, integrally valued, and completely safe. So, the father just got the party started and waited to see what would happen next. The story seems to suggest that repentance, change—the turning of our lives more fully toward God and God’s purposes for us—will in fact look like a renewed willingness to rejoice and celebrate.

So, who says there’s no joy in Lent? No call to party during this horrible time? What our country needs now, in these days of mass firings, dismantling of safety nets, compromising of our data and security, disappearing of planeloads of immigrants, deporting of dissenters, death of free speech . . . is NOT teeth-gritted, angry, exhausted, vindictive resistance. No, we need resistance that is irresistibly joyous and beautiful, full of gracious, gut-centered compassion. We need a welcome that is wide and unconditional, unfair. We need plentiful, delicious food. We need a beat we can dance to!

Like the Coffman Union theater full of people celebrating the sacredness of trans stories.

Like 400 meals packed and ready to go from our kitchen every week.

Like building the power to create a city committed to climate justice and racial equity. 

Like growing circles of friendship and solidarity around people under threat.

Jesus is calling us to allow the lost parts of ourselves to be found, calling us to reach toward those from whom we’ve become alienated. He’s getting a party started—gracious, hospitable, joyous, and exuberant—and he’s waiting for us to join in.

Amen.

^[1] https://www.theologyofwork.org/the-high-calling/verbs-make-all-difference-world-splagchnizomai/