Learnings - still! - from the parable of the Prodigal Son

It doesn't appear in the Sunday lectionary readings but once every three years:  4th Sunday in Lent, Year C.  However, the parable of the Lost or Prodigal Son in Luke 15 always has been powerful for me.

Years ago, when I was serving a church in northern Illinois, the church treasurer – a 4^th generation member – stole a little over $120,000 from the church.  (Reading the situation last fall at the United Methodist Church in Marcellus brought back lots of memories for me!)  In the process of working through all of the implications of what happened, one of our church's Mariners groups asked my wife, Caroline, and me to come and talk with them.  They all were of the same generation as the Treasurer. They all had stood up in each others' weddings.  And they were in deep pain.  We talked with them about this parable in Luke 15.  I reminded them that if the Treasurer, like the Prodigal Son, came back to us in repentance, we had to receive him with open arms of welcome and forgiveness.  However, I also talked with them about the fact that we, while not like the Prodigal Son in the parable, were like the elder brother.  Would we be resentful if the "prodigal" returned home, or would we be able to share the joy of God that he had "come to himself" and returned?  It was a tough time for that congregation.

This parable has a depth to it that is profound.  I was reminded of that again this afternoon as I was reading a quote from Henri Nouwen's book, The Return of the Prodigal Son.  Here is what Fr. Nouwen wrote:

"For most of my life, I have struggled to find God, to know God, to love God.  I have tried hard to follow the guidelines of the spiritual life - pray always, work for others, read the Scriptures - and to avoid the many temptations to dissipate myself.  I have failed many times but always have tried again, even when I was close to despair.... It might sound strange, but God wants to find me as much as, if not more than, I want to find God."

I don't know about you, but it always surprises me to think that God longs for me, seeks me out, waits for me to return when I have wandered, and runs to welcome me home, throwing a lavish party that I neither need nor deserve.  I constantly strive to remember that.  This parable helps.

I guess that's why this thing is called "grace."