But Now am Found

I’ve always loved the hymn, “Amazing Grace,” especially that great line, “I once was lost, but now am found….” It’s a very popular hymn in this country, but do you know its story? It was first published in 1779, and its author was an English poet and clergyman, John Newton. Newton was not raised in a religious family, and in his early years, especially during the time he was forced to serve in the English navy, he was often a stubborn and recalcitrant loner. After leaving the navy, he got involved in the Atlantic slave trade, ferrying Africans to the U.S. and other cargo back to England. In 1748, a violent storm battered his vessel off the coast of County Donegal, Ireland. Newton felt so threatened that he called out to God for mercy. The storm abated, and he realized that God had saved his life. He continued in the slave trade for the next seven years. However, in 1755, he gave up sea faring and began studying theology.

Newton was ordained in the Church of England in 1764 and began writing hymns with the poet William Cowper. Recalling his own moment of conversion off the coast of Ireland, he wrote “Amazing Grace” to illustrate a sermon for New Year’s Day 1773. Though not well known in England, “Amazing Grace” was sung extensively during the Second Great Awakening in the U.S. in the early 19th century. In 1835 it was joined to the tune “New Britain,” by which we know it today. Perhaps what is most “amazing” about the hymn is that, with its message that our sins do not cut us off from forgiveness and redemption, and that, God, in God’s mercy, continues to search for us, "Amazing Grace" is one of the most recognizable songs in the English-speaking world.

Unquestionably, John Newton knew his Scripture. When he wrote “Amazing Grace,” perhaps he had in mind not only his own extraordinary experience of God’s radical acceptance of him, but also this passage from the gospel of Luke that we have just heard. Spoiler alert right from the top: the parable that we wrongly call “The Prodigal Son,” is not primarily about forgiveness. It is about restoration, wholeness, and God’s unrelenting search for us, in order to bring us back into community with Godself and with God’s people. You can see that immediately if you look at its context, and especially if you think about why Jesus might have told this parable.

A major motif of the gospel of Luke is Jesus’ humanity. What is more important, throughout both the gospel and its sequel, the Acts of the Apostles, is that the writer emphasizes Jesus’ message that all are welcome in God’s realm, and that salvation is available to all humanity. In the gospel in particular, Jesus heals, seeks out, welcomes, and dines with all kinds of people, rich and poor, sinners and law-abiding, Jews and gentiles. In gathering together all kinds of people, Jesus intentionally creates a new family within the realm of God, a family whose members acknowledge God’s grace and mercy, especially as they see it reflected in Jesus’ welcome of all into that family.

As we heard in today’s reading, some Pharisees and Scribes, i.e., some of the religious leaders, appear to question Jesus’ willingness to cross ethnic, gender, and social class boundaries. “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them,” they complain. Think about it. In Jesus’ time there were only very prescribed people with whom it was customary to share food. In response to this complaint, Luke has Jesus tell three stories, all having to do with something lost, and all ending with joyful recovery of the lost item. All three stories illustrate what Jesus’ ministry is about. The first two, which come in between the opening sentences and the parable we just heard, are relatively simple and straightforward. The first, as those of you Bible-readers remember, is the parable of the ninety-nine sheep that are safely in the fold and the one that has gone astray. After diligently searching for and finding the lost sheep, the shepherd in the parable says, “Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.” In the second story, a woman turns her house upside down searching for a lost coin. When she finally finds it, she says, “Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.” Interpreting both these parables, Jesus says, “Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”

The third parable, the one we just heard, is more complex. But ultimately its theme is similar to that of the other two. God deliberately seeks those who are lost, it tells us, and rejoices when the lost ones are found. This is not the parable of the Prodigal Son, as it’s usually called. It’s really the parable of the selfish sons and the loving father. Consider: both sons are lost – in different ways. The younger son is more obviously lost. He has taken a chunk of the family’s money and run away. He’s probably immature and inexperienced, so the money quickly disappears, either through extravagant spending or because, as a young man, he was taken advantage of by expert con men. Be that as it may, he was reduced to starvation and a less than minimum wage job. How does he save himself? He rehearses a pro forma apology and heads back home expecting at least a decent meal and a place to sleep. But his father rushes out. Can you picture the old man? Perhaps he’s spotted the boy from the roof-top. He tears down the stairs and out to the road, robes flying, bare legs exposed. When he sees him, does the father rebuke the boy? Of course not. He embraces the boy, ignores his pro forma apology, and calls for a celebration on the spot. “Rejoice with me, for this son of mine … was lost and is found.”

The older brother is also lost. He bears the burden of goodness – as eldest children often do. He is expected to live up to family mores, carry on the family name and occupation, and live up to family standards of behavior. But in some ways, goodness is a prison, especially if you think that you have to be a model person solely through your own efforts. The older son is also alienated from the community and celebration, and has yet to realize that he constantly receives his father’s love, whether he is the model son or not. Lost in alienation, he stands outside the party. A celebration was always waiting for him, but he has always seen himself as carrying the burdens of the world on his own shoulders.

Both sons need the grace of restoration to family and community: one for the unholy life that he has lived, and the other for a life solely focused on himself. Both need to know that they are truly God’s beloved, if imperfect, children. Both need to know that God continually seeks them out, finds them, and rejoices over them. “Rejoice with me, for the child that I have loved has come back to the family.”

Where are we in this insightful parable? Some of us may feel like the younger brother. Perhaps we have intentionally cut ourselves off from community. Perhaps we have committed unspeakable crimes. Sue Klebold, the mother of Dylan Klebold, one of the two shooters at Columbine High School in Littleton Colorado in 1999, has just broken her silence about what it has been like to have been the mother of such a son. Others of us have severed our ties with our families or communities through addictions, either to such harmful substances as alcohol or drugs, or to ostensibly good things like work, sports, or computer or smart phone screens. If we are like the younger brother, God is always waiting for our return, eagerly seeking us, and yearning to draw us back into community.

The truth is that most of us are probably more like the older brother. Priest and writer Henry Nouwen reminds us of our need to acknowledge “the fact that what God has for us is really there all the time….” What we really need are eyes to see. Nouwen continues, “Celebration belongs to God’s Kingdom. God not only offers forgiveness, reconciliation, and healing, but wants to lift up these gifts as a source of joy for all who witness them. In all three parables which Jesus tells to explain why he eats with sinners, God rejoices and invites others to rejoice with him.”1

As we respond to God’s invitation, we are also called to emulate the third son, the teller of these parables. God also invites us to seek out the lost and invite them into community. Episcopal Relief and Development is at work all over the world doing just that. Many of their stories touch my heart. However, this month two stories in this month’s Rotarian reflected a similar commitment. In one, a woman was working with women who had been trafficked as young prostitutes and were trying to come off the streets. In another, a team of young Rotarians were delivering 2,400 durable non-inflatable soccer balls to countries where young people have been seen playing soccer with bundles of trash or rags. Wherever they stopped, the team played a lively game of soccer with the recipients of the balls.

In this parish, we know the joy of welcoming our Loaves and Fishes diners. I wonder, who else should we be inviting? Ultimately, all are welcome in God’s realm. All are invited, sought, and rejoiced over. God rejoices over you and invites you to bring others into the celebratory feast.

1. The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming (N.Y.: Doubleday, 1992), quoted in Synthesis, Lent 4 2016, p 4.