The Fourth Sunday of Lent
Psalm 32; Numbers 15:28-31; 2 Corinthians 5:16-21; Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
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Last week, I spoke to you about the need for the Church to remember who and what she is.
The church that has forgotten her first love, which is Jesus Christ, proves to be no church at all. There are many churches in this category. They face imminent extinction if they do not repent.
But we also heard last week about the fruitless fig tree and the vinedresser who pleaded with the owner not to cut it down, to give it just one more year of care and tending. If, after that, it failed to flower, then yes, by all means, it should be cut down.
In other words, like the prodigal son in today’s reading, churches need to come to their senses. They need to remember what they’re here for, what they’re supposed to do.
Those that don’t will be rooted up. A fruitless tree is no better than a weed and must not be permitted to steal resources from other nearby trees.
Likewise, an apostate church is not a neutral presence in a community, it is a harmful presence, teaching things that are not true and spreading social contagion.
In this week’s gospel reading from Luke, we read about a son who has borne no fruit, but who, instead, has stolen from his father and brother, and squandered their resources. He is left with nothing to show for it.
But Luke’s Gospel tells us: “when he came to himself he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have bread enough and to spare, but I perish here with hunger!”
“When he came to himself,” that is, when he remembered who he was, he found grace and mercy.
There is grace and mercy in this story of the prodigal son — grace and mercy for apostate churches too — if they will but follow his example and remember who they are.
II.
The story of the prodigal son is the story of a reconciliation between a father and son.
This is a story that tells us all we need to know about how God would like to be reconciled to each one of us individually and together, as churches.
What this story tells us is that God does not wait for us to come to him. Instead, He comes to us.
Luke 15:20 says, “But while he was yet at a distance, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him.”
As soon as he sees his lost son, the father cannot wait a minute more for the reunion to take place.
But I am getting ahead of myself. Let us examine the story as it unfolds.
For reasons that are not explained, a son asks his father for his share of the inheritance. To say this was rude would be an understatement. Not only is the father still alive, and this disrespectful son is already asking for his inheritance, but the father’s estate still needs to be worked.
This good-for-nothing son is asking not just for a fixed amount, his so-called “share of property” that was his. He is touching the principle. He is draining the capital.
This is money that was invested and put to productive use to increase the family’s wealth. This prodigal son not only robbed from his father and brother but stupidly stole from his future self.
For some reason the father does not object to his foolish younger son’s request. The father divides the estate between the two brothers.
This becomes important later because when the father bestows the ring and the robe and the sandals on his humbled son and slays the fatted calf for a “welcome home” feast, he’s taking all of that out of the share that he and the older brother kept.
The father seems to have a particular love for this son. First, he indulges the prodigal’s selfish request. Second, he reconciles the younger son to the family at the expense of himself and the older son.
Let it never be said that forgiveness is free. There is always a cost to sin, not only to us but to those around us.
This is why the fig tree needed to be cut down. This is why I say that apostate churches hurt their sister churches when they mix the truth of Christ with the lies of the world.
One thing the story of the prodigal son teaches us is that there are no easy or simple divisions.
A church may think it has solved all its problems by leaving an apostate denomination, but things are not so simple. Deep connections remain.
Indeed, for as long as the father in this gospel story is still alive, a real loyalty is still owed by both sons to him.
The father is the principle of unity between the brothers and the only means of reconciling the two.
But there is a problem. Reconciliation isn’t possible and the way this story ends, it’s clear no reconciliation has occurred.
The father’s words to his older son, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours” and “It was fitting to make merry and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found” sound wonderful to us, and the younger son must have marveled that such grace and mercy was shown to him, but the older son is silent. We never hear from him again.
It’s very difficult to imagine the older son replying, “You’re right, Pa. It’s good to have him back.”
Most of us have experienced family dysfunction of some kind or another. I daresay each of us can think of some prodigal family member that in our heart of hearts we were glad to see go his own way. The last thing we want is to see him come back.
As I said, forgiveness is costly. It costs at least as much as the sin stole from us in the first place, be that our innocence, our trust, or our property.
The older son might have just gotten to the point where he wasn’t thinking about his younger brother all day, every day. Perhaps he’d finally regained his emotional balance and then he comes home from a day’s work in the field only to find that he’s back. And, of course, there’s dad, looking pleased with himself.
III.
It’s important to understand why the younger son’s sin was unforgivable, why reconciliation wasn’t possible, and why this story ends without reconciliation between the brothers having taken place.
Let’s look at our reading from Numbers today. Moses is giving instructions to priests on how to make atonement for the person who sins “unwittingly.”
“And the priest shall make atonement before the Lord for the person who commits an error, when he sins unwittingly, to make atonement for him; and he shall be forgiven.”
Now, the crucial word there is “unwittingly.” That means “inadvertently, unintentionally, unknowingly” but it also means “without knowledge or intention.”
If you’re honest with yourself, how many sins can you really say you’ve committed inadvertently, unintentionally, unknowingly or without knowledge or intention?
Let’s go through one of Paul’s famous lists of sins, the one in Galatians 5:19-21. As I name each one, you tell me if you can see yourself doing any of these inadvertently, unintentionally, unknowingly or without knowledge or intention.
Paul writes, “Now the works of the flesh are plain: fornication, impurity, licentiousness….”
The only one that could occur inadvertently would be impurity, such as touching a corpse or blood.
Licentiousness, in addition to referring to lewd behavior, can refer to antisocial behavior, which can be caused by certain diseases and mental conditions, but that would fall under illness, not sin.
We continue with “idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, anger, selfishness, dissension, party spirit….”
These all sound intentional to me, except for selfishness, which is innate in each one of us, owing to the state of original sin into which we are all born.
We can be provoked by others to jealousy and anger and get caught up in dissension and party spirit — the madness of crowds — but in these we do still have a choice.
Finally, “envy, drunkenness, carousing, and the like.” More of the same. Paul then adds, “I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God.”
Why won’t they inherit the kingdom of God? Because each of these sins are high-handed sins and Moses tells us that there is no atonement for high-handed sins. These are sins that can’t be put right, that can’t be forgiven.
Numbers 15:30 says, “But the person who does anything with a high hand, whether he is native or a sojourner, reviles the Lord, and that person shall be cut off from among his people.”
When the younger son defrauded his father’s estate and left, his sin was his punishment: exile.
Exodus 20:12 says, “Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land which the Lord your God gives you.”
The son did not do that and therefore forfeited his right to his father’s estate. That’s why all he can hope for (and all that he expects) is to be treated like one of his father’s hired hands.
IV.
However, the punishment for high-handed sins is exile, banishment, so there is no going back, not even as a hired hand.
This means the father of the prodigal son shouldn’t have done what he did, or, more to the point, couldn’t have done what he did. There can be no running to greet him, no embrace, no kiss, no gifts of rings and robes, and certainly no banquet to celebrate his return.
The same is true of us. Do you really think that saying sorry to God is enough? It’s not even enough for me and you. We must force young children into accepting an apology and usually it’s the threat of the mother or father’s anger that gets an offended child to begrudgingly comply.
Why? Because a high-handed sin does three things. Moses tells us such a sin reviles (verbally abuses) the LORD, despises the word of the LORD, and breaks His commandment.
Now, when you are verbally abused, despised, and your wishes are disregarded, is “sorry” ever good enough? Of course not. Something more is needed.
What that “something more” is, this parable doesn’t say exactly. We know that no human priest could atone for the prodigal son’s sin against his father, but his father is ready to forgive him anyway.
And we know from the rest of the gospel that this is where the parable stops being a parable and becomes the story of God the Father and God the Son.
Jesus Christ, the Son of God, leaves His Father’s throne in heaven, humbles himself, to be born of a woman, to take on human nature, and to die the death that all men must die.
But, being the Son of God, the very principle of life itself, death has no lasting power over Him, and after He spent Himself to the last in this sin-sick world, He returns to His Father’s home, where a feast has been prepared.
It is here, at this banquet — a banquet we taste a bit of at every communion — that we see God in Christ “reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them,” as Paul writes in today’s epistle reading.
In Christ, the unforgivable is forgiven.
V.
Let us then apply the lessons of this parable to our own predicament.
First, let us recognize that we are in an impossible situation, because there is no solution to it. Not only are we born in sin, but we are also born to sin. Furthermore, our sins are high-handed, which means they are willful, often premeditated, performed with full knowledge and intent.
Second, since “sorry” is never good enough for us or for God, this means that no religion can save us, neither can any art or science.
Third, not even our remorse can save us. The son, when he comes to himself, expects only to be taken in as a hired servant. Instead, he finds his father coming to greet him.
It is not the son’s remorse that saves him. His father has already determined to restore him to the family.
It is not the son’s confession that saves him. The father has already hugged him and kissed him before the words, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son” ever leave his mouth.
Hebrews 7:25 says, “he is able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him” — the “him” here being Jesus.
It is Jesus the High Priest who saves. His reach extends to the uttermost places of our exile to draw us back to the Father.
Fourth, the ring, the robe, and the feast that the Father gives to His prodigal children are not taken from any earthly estate. We have forfeited that estate and plundered it. There is nothing left. This robe, this ring, this food must come from another estate, a heavenly one.
We don’t deserve any of it and couldn’t earn it even if we tried. You’ll notice that the son intends to return home to “work it off” and “earn his food” but his father flat-out refuses to hire him, precisely because there is no work he could do, no wage he could earn, that would satisfy his debt to his family. His restoration is utterly gratuitous. His father’s grace is as prodigal as his son’s sin.
If the older brother could have understood this, he would have seen that nothing was being taken from him at all, but that is a difficult lesson to learn for one who has always earned his keep.
Let us not make the older brother’s mistake. Let us stop trying to earn our place in heaven. Instead, let us allow our Father, who is in heaven, to prepare a place for us in His own home.
Finally, let us understand that the Father is the only source of unity among Christians and the only means of reconciliation for them.
High-handed sin has devastated the churches of this land with dissension, false doctrine, and nowadays I would even add idolatry and sorcery.
We must ask God to restore these dead branches of His Church and we must be prepared to rejoice with them when He does.
Preached on March 30, 2025 at the First Congregational Church, Woodbury, Connecticut.
Discussion questions:
How do you see “apostate churches” or fruitless communities stealing resources—spiritual, emotional, or otherwise—from faithful ones in today’s world?
The sermon notes that the prodigal son’s request for his inheritance was not just rude but drained the family’s capital. How do our own selfish actions sometimes harm not just ourselves but those around us?
Forgiveness always comes with a cost, as seen in the father giving from his and the older son’s share to welcome the prodigal back. Can you think of a time when forgiving someone cost you something significant? How did you handle it?
The sermon contrasts “unwitting” sins with “high-handed” sins, suggesting most of our sins are intentional. Which of Paul’s list of sins from Galatians 5:19-21 (e.g., jealousy, anger, selfishness) do you find most challenging to avoid, and why?
The older son’s silence at the end of the parable suggests he struggles to accept his brother’s return. Why do you think it’s so hard for us to rejoice in someone else’s restoration when their sin has hurt us?
The sermon says the father in the parable couldn’t forgive the prodigal son under the Old Testament law for high-handed sins, yet he does. How does Jesus’ life and death bridge this gap between justice and mercy?
Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5 that God reconciles the world to Himself through Christ, “not counting their trespasses against them.” How does this change the way you view your own sins or the sins of others?
The sermon suggests that, like the prodigal son, we can’t earn our way back to God—His grace is “prodigal.” How does this challenge the way you approach your relationship with God or your efforts to “make things right”?
The sermon ends with a call to pray for the restoration of “dead branches” in the Church and to rejoice when they are restored. What practical steps can we take to reach the apostate churches near us with a message of repentance and reconciliation?
Download the sermon handout here.
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