March 4: "Extravagance" (3rd Sunday in Lent)

THE WORD IN THE GOSPEL  Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

All the tax collectors and sinners were gathering around Jesus to listen to him. The Pharisees and legal experts were grumbling, saying, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” So Jesus told them this parable: A certain man had two sons. The younger son said to his father, "Father, give me my share of the inheritance."

Then the father divided his estate between them. Soon afterward, the younger son gathered everything together and took a trip to a land far away. There, he wasted his wealth through extravagant living.

When he had used up his resources, a severe food shortage arose in that country and he began to be in need. He hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed pigs. He longed to eat his fill from what the pigs ate, but no one gave him anything. When he came to his senses, he said, "How many of my father’s hired hands have more than enough food, but I’m starving to death! I will get up and go to my father, and say to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son. Take me on as one of your hired hands.'"

So he got up and went to his father. While he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with compassion. His father ran to him, hugged him, and kissed him. Then his son said, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son."

But the father said to his servants, "Quickly, bring out the best robe and put it on him! Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet! Fetch the fattened calf and slaughter it. We must celebrate with feasting because this son of mine was dead and has come back to life! He was lost and is found!"

And they began to celebrate. Now his older son was in the field. Coming in from the field, he approached the house and heard music and dancing. He called one of the servants and asked what was going on. The servant replied, "Your brother has arrived, and your father has slaughtered the fattened calf because he received his son back safe and sound."

Then the older son was furious and didn’t want to enter in, but his father came out and begged him. He answered his father, "Look, I’ve served you all these years, and I never disobeyed your instruction. Yet you’ve never given me as much as a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours returned, after gobbling up your estate on prostitutes, you slaughtered the fattened calf for him."


Then his father said, "Son, you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad because this brother of yours was dead and is alive. He was lost and is found."

MESSAGE     “Extravagance”

Today, we are celebrating holy communion, so I only have time for a short sermon. Can I have an Amen?

I’d like you to take a moment to imagine something that you might consider extravagant.

I did a Google search, and I found some things you might agree are pretty extravagant.

How about a yacht that has seven suites, movie theater, a gymnasium, an infinity pool, and a helipad? For a mere $200 million.

How about a Reclining Zero Gravity Massaging Chair for $4,000? 

How about a Three-Strand Natural Pearl Necklace that sold for $1.4 million?

Now, “extravagant,” according to the dictionary, means “more than is reasonable,” or “spending much more than is necessary or wise,” or “going beyond what is deserved or justifiable,” or “being wasteful.”

I think that what we consider to be extravagant depends on our beliefs, our values, our priorities, and of course, our bank accounts. For instance, I love to hike. A really good pair of hiking boots can cost over $150. Some people might consider that an extravagance, but for me, it’s something important that increases my enjoyment, my comfort, and my safety when I’m on the trail.

I also love my cats, but I don’t think I spend extravagant amounts of money on them. At least, not compared to one of my friends. This friend has a dog that goes to a posh doggy daycare every day, and gets only the best fresh foods three times a day, and even goes to a doggy spa once a week for a complete doggy bath, massage, and grooming. To me, that’s extravagant. To my friend, it’s showing her dog how much she loves him.

So, what’s extravagant to one person may be reasonable to another.

Today is the third Sunday in Lent, and we are continuing to look at the stories that Jesus told. Today’s story is another one that is well-known, even outside the church: the so-called story of the Prodigal Son.

That word, prodigal, is nowhere to be found in the story itself. But it’s what people in the church have called this story for hundreds of years.

Who knows what prodigal means?

That younger son took his inheritance and spent it on extravagant living.

And that’s exactly what prodigal means: someone who is wastefully or recklessly extravagant. Someone who uses their resources in a reckless, unwise, or unreasonable way.

But evidently, there’s more than one prodigal in this story. From beginning to end, the story is filled with reckless and unwise use of resources.

In a nutshell: a man who has two sons. The younger son asks for his share of his father’s wealth so he can go discover the world, or whatever. And the father, seemingly without question, give the money to the boy.

So the father is the first one to be prodigal. He recklessly and foolishly gives his son this money.

Then it’s the son’s turn to be prodigal. He takes the money and enjoys himself in some “far away land.” But, being reckless as he is, he eventually finds himself in dire circumstances – not only is he broke, having been “wastefully extravagant” with his inheritance, but a famine breaks out in the country where he is staying. He faces starvation, so he hires himself out to feed pigs.

Finally, starving, dirty, broke, and desperate, he decides to go back home and throw himself on his father’s mercy.

It seems that the father has never given up hope that the son will someday return. When the boy was a long way off, the father recognized him. This is the act of a father who was longing, hoping, dreaming of the day when his son would come home.

And once the father recognized his son, he was filled with compassion and ran to meet him. The father throws his arms around him, and kisses him, right there, in the middle of the road, where everyone could see. Where everyone could see the father reclaim his son. Where everyone could see that no matter what the son had done, it doesn’t matter. Where everyone could see that because the father has received this wayward, wastefully extravagant boy as his beloved son, there will be no rejection, no turning away, no punishment, 

In order to reinforce his acceptance of the son’s return, the father throws the son a lavish party. The older son, who was working in the field, comes home and sees the party. He is livid. This prodigal, wastefully extravagant brother of his is being treated to a celebratory feast of love and acceptance.

In the older son’s eyes, it was now his father who was being prodigal, wastefully extravagant on his loser of a brother.

But that celebration, which the older son thought was such a wasteful extravagance, meant something much different to the father and the younger son.

To the father, the celebration was a demonstration of reconciliation and reunion and the start of healing in the family.

To the younger son, the celebration was a display of incredible grace and forgiveness and mercy.

There are two kinds of prodigality going on in this story. The first is the extravagant waste of a limited resource – the father’s money, which became the younger son’s inheritance.

But the second is the extravagant use of a resource that is unlimited: love.

Sometimes we tend to treat love as if it’s a limited resource. We want to carefully control how we use it. Sometimes we want to be able to choose who is worthy enough to receive our love.

Or worse yet, we let other people’s opinions determine who and how we should love. We listen to those who are like that older son, who think that there are people who don’t deserve any love or mercy or grace.

We call this parable the story of the Prodigal Son – the story of a son who was wastefully extravagant. But perhaps a more fitting title would be “The Prodigal Father.”

Because it’s the father who, at least in the eyes of his older son, is being wastefully extravagant with his mercy and his love.

But that’s exactly what we’re called to do: to lavishly shower love and mercy on all anyone who needs it, regardless of who they are. Because when it comes down to it, you can’t waste love. You can never be too extravagant with mercy, and you can never be prodigal with love.

I pray that we can all become prodigal children of an incredibly loving and merciful God.

Amen.