Let us pray: O God, as we prepare to hear your word to us – in the sounds of my words, or the spaces between them, give us wisdom in the listening and the speaking, that we may be awakened to the surprise and wonder of your presence. Amen.

There's a little debate going on in exegetical circles – and in case you don't know the word exegetical, it comes from the root word, exegesis which simply is the technical term for the practice of interpreting a piece of scripture. So, in exegetical circles, there's a discussion going on about just who the prodigal is in the parable that Jesus told in response to the scribes and pharisees who were casting aspersions on the circle of people associating with him – so-called tax collectors and sinners.

The word prodigal, you see, is one that denotes lavish and wasteful spending. Now of course the case can be made for the younger son – who begged for his inheritance and then spent it wastefully on a life of poor choices and self-satisfying desires. But what about the father and his reaction to the return of this wastrel son, was he not also a prodigal father – going full out in his reaction to the return of this his younger son – making a community feast of it by butchering not just a sheep, a goat or a few chickens, but the best and fattest of the cattle herd.

The only character I've not heard described as prodigal is the older son. In fact, he might define the opposite of prodigal – cautious, reliable, solid, - a whole range of adjectives that imply trustworthy even if boring personality traits. In fact, I just bet (if betting were in my nature and allowed by my personal theology) being an older son myself that prodigal as a characteristic and this older son were as far apart as any two things could be.

The beauty of this parable, and pretty much the case with any parable, is that it allows us to approach it with a variety of understandings. Do we hear it differently depending on where we are in the family order? Does the very fact that I'm an older son let me hear it more from the perspective of the older son – and thereby compounding the moral indignation of the seemingly slighted older brother? What about runaway children who are not particularly proud of their decisions – do they hear this story differently? What if the story had been about girls instead of boys, or girls and boys together – an older sister, a younger sister? Would they change the way the story runs and the way we hear it?

Being a parable it is of course meant to tell us something about God. What do we learn about God. Who is God in this story, and what does it tell us about God's response to the various situations described in the parable?

Remember that this parable was told in response to an accusation from the self-righteous holy people that Jesus risked his own repute by associating with people of questionable reputation. At least in part it was likely meant to shine a light on the hypocrisy, or self-righteousness of those who thought that looks or maintaining a place in society were more important than being with people on a personal level. The passage does not tell us the reaction of the scribes and pharisees after they heard the parable, but we can imagine their response.

But, being a parable, it is more than just a “take that” to the scribes and pharisees. If it were only that it probably wouldn't make it past the first edit. No this story continues because of its timeless and open to interpretation nature – a nature that continues to invite analysis and insight.

So, as much as it was meant to shine a light on God for the audience of the day, it continues to do so for us, a generation of listeners so far removed in so many ways from the context in which it was told, and yet a generation of listeners that can still hear it and make connections – perhaps ones we've never made before with God and God's relationship with us.

I've heard and read many expositions on the characters of the story – trying to discern just what they were thinking and feeling as the story is told. I've already indicated that I have a certain connection with the older son – being one myself, and with the open-endedness of the way the passage ends we don't really know whether his father's justifications and explanations had any influence on him, or was his life ruined by the seeming injustice of it all. We speak of a God of justice, we believe in a God of justice and yet this faithful, although likely unexciting older son seems not to be treated very justly.

That being said, I also have a certain affinity with the younger son. Perhaps because he lives a life that is unattainable for someone like me. His adventures certainly tell a better story – tragic as they might be, a lot can be said about the kinds of things that attracted him and his money. We are drawn to stories of skyrockets – you know the quick burn and crash – but which makes a beautiful sight even as it heads into decay. They are spectacular and bright even if they end in nothing but burnt-out hulks and ashy remains. I've never read a story about a Lotto 649 winner who took their winnings, invested them wisely and went on to live a comfortable, well-fed existence, but I'm sure like me, you've heard the crash and burn stories – the stories of overnight multi-millionaires who've lost it all in blazing prodigal glory.

But what if the younger son had been the one in a million who by chance or circumstance suddenly found himself the recipient of dividends beyond the inheritance. What if he came home the local hero – the one who made good. There are stories like that, and Jesus would have know at least one of them – the tale of the younger brother Joseph – left to die by his older brothers only to bring the family back to life as a result of his spiritual gift of dream interpretation and business acumen. It's quite likely that Jesus listeners, the learned holy people might well have been reminded of the story of Joseph as well. It's a much different story – Joseph had no choice about his leaving the family and instead of going home, the family came to join him, thus beginning the story of how the Hebrew people ended up in Egypt.

And think of how that story influenced the other “going home” story we heard today. The Egypt experience was not a good one for the Hebrew people and as a result they became nomadic people as a result of the Exodus under the leadership of Moses from the oppression they experienced in Egypt. After the iconic forty years of wilderness homelessness they settled down under the leadership of Joshua in the promised land of Canaan, a place where their nomadic lifestyle was exchanged for an agrarian, settled pattern of living. Joshua reminded them that even though the source of their food had changed they still owed thanks to God for it.

It's all about God – Joshua reminding the people of the need to be thankful, to remember their story in the celebration of the Passover ritual, Jesus telling a story about God's lavish, prodigal love and acceptance. But just as the parable of the prodigal is one that doesn't end – leaving us to make our own connections with God and living as part of God's community – neither does our overall understanding of our relationship with God ever come to completion. That's why the season of Lent is described as a journey – for it tells us of a never ending journey of discovery, as we travel the road – seeking out the presence and the call of God. Some portion of that journey is a going home – home to a place of love and acceptance where we can know God's love in prodigal abundance, in lavish bounty. Amen.