By The Rev. John Kennedy
This coming Sunday (March 30) is the fourth in Lent, and is known as Laetare Sunday, a moment of joy in the midst of the solemn Lenten season. “Laetare” means “rejoice,” and today’s Gospel—the Parable of the Prodigal Son—is cause for celebration. It is a story of extravagant grace, though it does pose a very real challenge for us as well.
Jesus tells of a father with two sons. The younger makes an astonishing request: “Father, give me my share of the inheritance.” In the ancient world, inheritances were only divided upon a father’s death. This son is, in effect, wishing his father dead. Even more astonishing, the father grants his request, tearing apart his life, or “bios,” the Greek word translated in the parable as “property” (Luke 15:12). The son quickly sells his share, travels far from home, and squanders everything.
Broke and starving, he hires himself out to feed pigs—an unthinkable humiliation for a Jewish man. At rock bottom, he “comes to himself” (15:17) and decides to return home, hoping for nothing more than a servant’s position. But before he even reaches the house, “his father saw him and was filled with compassion” (15:20).
The father runs to meet him. Dignified men did not run in that culture—it meant lifting your robes, exposing your legs. But the father doesn’t care. He throws his arms around his son, kisses him, and calls for a robe, a ring, and a feast. The son tries to give his rehearsed apology, but the father cuts him off. There is no earning his way back. He is restored by grace; a pure gift.
Jesus is telling us: No matter who you are or what you’ve done, God welcomes you home.
But the story doesn’t end there.
The older son, returning from the fields, hears music and dancing. When he learns that his brother has come home and their father is celebrating, he is furious. “All these years I have worked like a slave for you, and you never even gave me a goat! But when this son of yours comes back, you kill the fatted calf?” (15:29-30)
His words reveal what’s in his heart. He doesn’t say my brother but this son of yours. He sees only injustice. He has obeyed the rules, done everything right, yet it is the younger son who is being honored.
Once again, the father responds with tenderness: “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate, because this brother of yours was lost and has been found” (15:31).
At the start, the younger son is lost. By the end, he is home. But the older son—the dutiful, obedient one—is now the one who is estranged.
This parable presents two ways people try to find their place in the world—and with God. The younger son follows what the pastor and writer Tim Keller called, in his book The Prodigal God, the way of “self-discovery”: rejecting tradition and living as one pleases. The older son follows the way of moral conformity, believing that through diligence and goodness, he can earn his place. But Jesus shows that both sons are lost. Both want the father’s things, not the father himself.
The younger brother’s sin is obvious—self-indulgence, rebellion. The older brother’s is more insidious. He believes his obedience entitles him to reward. His relationship with the father is transactional. He does not understand grace.
For religious people, there is always the temptation of becoming the older brother—believing that faithfulness and morality earn us God’s favor. But Jesus warns that this, too, is a form of lostness. Some of us see Jesus as a teacher, an example, maybe even a boss—but not as a savior. Some seek, through their own merits, to earn God’s favor rather than simply receiving it. But the Gospel invites us into a different way—one in which we obey not to gain a sense of righteousness, but to love and know God.
And then, Jesus leaves us with a cliffhanger.
Will the older brother enter the feast? Will he accept his father’s invitation? We don’t know. The parable remains unresolved because we are meant to finish it. Jesus is inviting us to see ourselves in the story.
Are we the younger son, in need of returning home? Or are we the older son, standing outside, unwilling to embrace grace?
As Leonard Cohen wrote in The Book of Mercy, “Blessed is the One who waits in the traveler’s heart for their turning.” May we hear the invitation and come home—to the God who watches and waits for us, and who rejoices when we return.
The Rev. John Kennedy serves as Associate Rector at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church in New Canaan.
