Richard Davenport

March 30, 2025 – Fourth Sunday in Lent

Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

                Blaise Pascal was a man who lived back in the 1600’s. He’s probably best known for his many contributions to the field of mathematics.  He was quite a philosopher as well, a contemporary of some of the big names of the day, like Rene Descartes, who wrote the famous statement, “I think, therefore I am.”

                Because of Pascal’s mathematical mindset, he saw a lot of the world in light of math and numbers.  This even applies to God.  Pascal was a Christian and he was concerned about those in the world who weren’t Christians.  To him, that just didn’t make a lot of sense.  He wanted everyone to see what a sensible thing the Christian faith is. 

                He proposed what’s become known as Pascal’s Wager. The idea is that you have two options. Either God exists, or he doesn’t. If God doesn’t exist, then nothing you do here really means anything.  Do whatever you want, it doesn’t matter in the end at all.  If God does exist, then things get a little trickier. If God exists and I believe in him, then it sounds like I get all sorts of good things, things my poor mind has difficulty even comprehending.  If God exists and I don’t believe in him, then I get all sorts of bad things, really, really bad things.

                In Pascal’s mind, it’s a math game.  If I believe in God, but God doesn’t actually exist, then I haven’t really lost anything because there was nothing to lose. If I don’t believe in God and he does exist, then I lose big time.  That means there’s really only one option: to believe in God.  At worst I lose some time going to church and being nice to people. But, if my wager pays off, then all of the eternal blessings are mine. 

                It’s interesting to consider his ideas, especially if you’re dealing with people that don’t believe.  But, his argument runs into lots of problems too.  Why this God?  Wouldn’t Allah or Buddha work the same way?  Also, saying that God is the best option isn’t really the same thing as faith.  It’s a lot more like the “go with the flow” kind of Christianity a lot of people practice. They stick with it just as long as it isn’t too difficult.  If God demands too much or if it becomes too much of a hassle, they decide it isn’t worth it anymore. 

                The parable Jesus tells us today is one of the best known parables in the Gospels.  A father with two sons.  One son wants to go out and live large, but he doesn’t have the money to live the kind of lifestyle he wants, so he has to sell his inheritance.  Except that he doesn’t actually have his inheritance yet, because dear old dad is still alive and well.  The son asks for the land anyway so he can sell it off and get the money to go party. 

Strangely, he gets what he asks for, and the result is about what you’d expect. Long term planning isn’t really part of his strategy here.  He runs out of money and has to go back.  He doesn’t expect to be very welcome at home, but anything he might get is better than what he has now.  He’s at least come to his senses and realizes he doesn’t deserve anything at all.  I’m sure to his surprise, he gets quite the reception.  His father is overjoyed to have him home.

Then you have the other son, the dutiful, hard working son.  He isn’t so thrilled with how things are going here. You can’t even tell if he actually cares about his brother at all.  He’s understandably miffed that he doesn’t get the kind of fanfare his brother gets. His father reminds him that he’s always been with him.

Again we are presented with two options.  One son who lives large, regrets his actions and comes back, and another son who never leaves and is grumpy about it.  It’s not quite the same as Pascal’s Wager.  We aren’t talking about whether to believe in God or not, but we can look at it the same way.  Which one gives you the better outcome? 

You could say living the high life sounds pretty good, but if highs also come with the lows, then maybe that’s not worth it.  Knowing you can always come back might make that a little more tolerable though.  We know the prodigal son gets a happy ending as he’s reunited with his father.  So “all’s well that ends well?”

What about the other option?  He’s there the whole time.  His life seems pretty safe and secure.  Maybe he doesn’t have all of the fun times his brother had, but he doesn’t have all of the misery either.  There are some who would rather have the big highs and lows and others who would rather keep things more even keel. 

The implication is that the son who returns has learned his lesson and lives happily ever after.  We don’t know what happens with the other son, the one who has been more dutiful.  Jesus leaves it to our imagination to finish his side of the story.  Does he come to the party?  That would suggest he ends up ok after all.  Does he storm off in a huff?  That would suggest his story doesn’t end well after all.

Which side do you take?  Which one provides the better outcome?  Of course, gaming the system isn’t really what the parable is all about.  There were a lot of people who thought all you had to do was ask for forgiveness right before you died.  As long as you did, then you could live however you want. That’s what the church calls “antinomianism,” people who are against any kind of law.  Jesus warns against that sort of mentality more than once.  Even if it worked like that, you never know when your time will come.  Are you really willing to risk your eternity on some temporal pleasure?  If so, then your eternity probably isn’t something you’re much concerned about anyway.  Would you even be sorry for what you did if you were planning on just mouthing some repentant sounding words when it was all done?  God isn’t fooled by mere words.

So the parable isn’t really about which side to take and we kind of know that, but then again, we kind of don’t.  I’ve talked before about the need for good stewardship.  When presented with different ways to use what we have, we are called to be responsible with it.  We can’t just fritter it all away on frivolous things.  That’s pretty much what the first son did and he ended up pretty miserable about it.  But, the parable isn’t about stewardship either, at least not of physical, earthly things.

The parable deals with spiritual things.  It is trying to convey some spiritual truth that you aren’t going to just figure out on your own.  What’s going to get you the most spiritual bang for your buck?  What’s going to get you more blessings, more grace, more assurance of God’s love?  Do I need to fast in Lent?  Is that what God wants?  Do I need to donate to that charity?  Do need to make the big show of how repentant I am?  Is it better to be the quiet and dutiful son who never makes and fuss and never gets into trouble?

I want the good stuff!  No, I don’t mean all of the money and fame and all of that.  I know that’s not really what we’re after.  But I do want the good stuff God has to offer.  I want to know, really, really know, that God loves me.  I want to see it for myself.  I want to know that I’m saved and that my place in his kingdom is assured.  There are lots of people out there, Christians even, who aren’t really sure what will happen to them when they die.  I need to build up my credit.  I need to do whatever I can to be sure.  I want to KNOW.  That means I need to do whatever I can here and now to make that happen, to make sure God sees me, acknowledges me, and approves of me.

What path do I need to take?  What work do I need to do?  How will I know if I’m on the right path?  There are many Christians out there who are weighed down by the need to answer these questions.  There are many churches out there who claim to teach you what you need to do to ensure you’re going to get the result you want.  A 12 step program to spiritual success, as it were.  Lutherans look for it too.  We have our own doubts, our anxieties and fears over what the future holds. We want to know where we will end up before we get there, because once that time comes, we know it will be too late.

In trying to know, trying to understand, trying to be on the right path, trying to decide between which son to emulate or which course of action to take, we fall into the same trap that all of those other churches do.  We’re focused on the wrong part of the story. The story is usually called “The Parable of the Prodigal Son,” but only because the returning son gets the most screen time.  The story isn’t about him.  It isn’t about the dutiful son either.  The story is and always was about the loving Father.  The Father who thinks nothing of pride or possessions if it means he has his son again.  The Father who wants nothing more than to share daily life with his children and to share with them all that he has. 

The question was never “who are you?”  It is always, “whose are you?”  In the end, it isn’t a matter of how dutiful you were, or how high or low you lived.  It isn’t a matter of how much you gave to charity or how much you did for the church. Those all may be fine things, but none of them save you.  You are saved by a Father’s love, a Father who loves you so much he’s willing to forego everything else to have you back. 

Your Heavenly Father has given a precious ransom in exchange for you.  He has given the life of his own Son.  He has given you Christ’s inheritance, eternal life and peace.  He has welcomed you with open arms, whether you have been here all your life or whether you have strayed and returned.  This is your Father’s house and so it is your house.  Don’t worry about where your life has led.  Instead take comfort in where it ended up.  You were dead, but now you are alive again.  Your path, your life has led you hear, to where God has claimed you as his beloved child and where he has given you a place at his side forevermore. 

Our journey through Lent watches what results for those who leave the Father’s house.  Jesus shows us the inevitable end.  But, he is more than an object lesson.  He is the payment, the offering given to buy back what was lost.  He is your redemption.  He is your assurance of the Father’s love and the one who allows you to receive it.  Your past and whatever you may have done in it, no longer matter.  God has forgiven it all and wiped it away.  You are with him now, where you belong, and that’s all that matters.