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Come On Home
Luke 15:11-15:24
I want you to
imagine for a moment that you have one chance to travel back in time and
go back to relive part of your life. When you go back, you know
everything that you know now. And even better you have the ability to
change the things that you have done. You can undo something you did or
do something you should have. Would you do it? What would you change?
Back in the 90’s Carl’s Junior, a west coast burger chain, bought
Hardee’s, a struggling east coast Burger chain. Carl’s began to receive
a lot of criticism for buying a company that was considered “not to be
the fourth best burger restaurant in a three restaurant town.” But the
company had a vision to change all of that.
During the next year, Carl’s began to change all of their new Hardee’s
to the Carl’s name brand. But if there was doubt about buying the worst
Hamburger chain out there, it intensified when their profits fell even
farther. They soon realized that they were not getting new people to
come to their restaurants and the name change was driving some of their
old customers away. So in the end on 1998 Carl’s made another change,
but this one was a change back to the way it was. They decided to return
all of their east coast properties back to Hardee’s and for a while
asked us to all “Come on Home.”
Come on home, it sounds Biblical doesn’t it? That’s because it is. I
want to remind you tonight of the parable Jesus taught in Luke 15. You
remember the parable. It’s a well-known story. “A certain man had two
sons. And the younger of them said to his father, ’Father, give me the
portion of goods that falls to me.’”
This was an absolutely unthinkable, unheard-of thing in that culture.
Such a request would warrant a stoning, since it was implying that the
son wished the father were dead. In fact, I understand that in all of
Middle Eastern literature, from ancient times to the present, there is
not one instance of a son, young or old, demanding his inheritance from
his father.
But the younger of these two sons decided that he wanted to leave home.
Now, the parable doesn’t tell us why he wanted to leave. Maybe he had
all he could stand of home, of Dad, and especially of his older brother.
In their society, the older brother was in control when Dad died. In
their society, the older brother received two thirds of the inheritance.
In their society, the older brother would make the family decisions.
Or maybe he left because he was sick of religion. The Jewish religion
controlled every aspect of life. It controlled what you ate. It dictated
what you could and could not do on Saturday. It controlled everything
from your work to your food preparation. You went to the synagogue every
Saturday to listen to scripture being read and discussed, to hear rules
and laws declared, and to pray. You went to the temple to offer
sacrifices. You were expected to pray personal prayers three times a
day. There was a rule for everything, and you were required to know and
keep all the rules.
Or maybe this boy just wanted to experience life without religion, to
experience what the New Testament refers to as the "pleasures of sin."
Maybe he wanted to get drunk. Maybe he wanted to "run with the bar
crowd." Maybe he wanted to be irresponsible. Maybe he wanted to gamble.
Maybe he wanted the high of being the center of attention by blowing all
his money. I don’t know. The parable doesn’t tell us why he wanted to
leave home; it simply tells us he did.
So he demanded his share of the inheritance, his third, and then packed
his bags. “And not many days after, the younger son gathered all
together, journeyed to a far country, and there wasted his possessions
with prodigal living.” Luke 15:13. Can you imagine how happy he was when
he walked out the door?
He was on his own. He didn’t need anybody! He certainly didn’t need his
family! I bet he wore some fine clothes! I bet he was looking good! He
went far away from home and all the influences of home. He planned to
live like he wanted to live with no restraints, no restrictions. He
didn’t want his family to bother him. He didn’t want religion to bother
him. He didn’t want to be near anyone who knew his family. He was
committed to doing his own thing. But living the life that he chose was
expensive. Of course, as long as he could pay for the party, he had all
kinds of friends and he got all kind of attention.
And I have no doubt that the younger son experienced pleasures that he
never knew existed. He probably experienced some fantastic highs,
because doing what is wicked and acting irresponsibly can create some
incredible pleasures. The Hebrew writer spoke about how Moses dealt with
the “pleasures of sin”.
But there’s another word used by the Hebrew writer that’s significant
here in Luke 15. He doesn’t just talk about the “pleasures of sin.” He
talks about the “passing pleasures of sin.” You see, sin brings
pleasure, but it also brings some terrible consequences. And the worst
consequences, the most painful consequences, the consequences that
demand prices that you never dreamed existed are the consequences that
occur inside you.
There came a day, and it probably wasn’t too long after leaving home,
that this boy’s money ran out, and, as luck would have it, at the same
time, the country he was in entered a severe economic depression. “But
when he had spent all, there arose a severe famine in that land and he
began to be in want.” Luke 15:14. Immediately, perhaps overnight, his
situation totally changed.
Before, he had lived in the finest places and was welcome everywhere;
now he had no place to stay and was welcome nowhere. Before, he had lots
of friends who loved to party with him; now that he had no money and
couldn’t afford to party, he had no friends. Before, he never wanted for
food and drink; now he had nothing to eat and nothing to drink. Before
he didn’t want work and didn’t need work; now he was desperate; he had
to find a job at a time when there were no jobs.
He left home to get away from every restraint and influence of home, and
he did. He probably wanted to get away from Dad’s watchfulness, and he
did. He probably wanted to get away from his older brother, and he did.
He probably wanted to get away from religion, and he did.
But getting away didn’t create the result he expected. The only job he
could find was feeding pigs. “Then he went and joined himself to a
citizen of that country, and he sent him into his fields to feed swine.
And he would gladly have filled his stomach with the pods that the swine
ate, and no one gave him anything.” Luke 15:15-16.
Here was a boy who never would have fed pigs at home because pigs were
forbidden the Jewish people. But necessity forced him to do the
unthinkable.
Here was a young man, who was literally starving to death, and no one
cared; in fact, if he died, his death would help solve their problem.
Nobody cared enough about him to give him anything. Even the slop he was
feeding the pigs was starting to look pretty good.
Verse 17 contains one of the most insightful statements that Jesus ever
made as he tells us that this young man took the first step toward
changing his life. Jesus was the master of stating the most profound,
insightful understandings in very simple statements. Jesus simply said
that one day as this starving man was feeding the pigs, that he “came to
himself” Luke 15:17. Some translations say, "He came to his senses."
What a great moment of realization! In that moment, he actually
understood what he had done. In that moment he actually understood where
he was and why he was there. In that moment he realized it was not his
father’s fault, it was not his older brother’s fault, it was not
religion’s fault, but that it was his fault. He was where he was, he was
doing what he was doing, and he was starving to death because of his
choices, because of his decisions.
And at that moment, he realized a lot of things. He realized that he
couldn’t turn the clock back -- he couldn’t change the past, he couldn’t
go back and reverse any of his decisions. But he also realized that he
did have a choice as to what decision to make next. He didn’t have to
stay where he was.
If he stayed there, it was because he decided to stay instead of
accepting responsibility for his decisions and his actions.
If he starved, it was because he decided to starve instead of accepting
responsibility for his decisions and actions.
If he died far away from home feeding those pigs, it was because he
decided to die instead of accepting responsibility for his decisions and
actions.
What happened to the prodigal son is very simple: one day he woke up, he
saw what was happening, he saw where he was, and he asked, "What am I
doing here?"
In his heart of hearts, he knew that he could never go back and be a son
like he once was. He didn’t even want to go back and be a son. He was
ashamed of himself. He was ashamed of what he had done. He was ashamed
of the grief and pain that he caused. He was ashamed of the way that he
had wasted his life. He just didn’t want to starve to death, and the
only person, the only person, who would care enough about him to let him
work as a servant and have food, was his father.
It is extremely important that you pay careful attention to this truth:
nothing good happened in this man’s life until he came to himself. In
the world, all around us and even in the church, terrible things happen
because people do one of two things: Either they never come to
themselves. Or when they do come to themselves, they refuse to accept
responsibility for their decisions and their actions.
Now you would think that anyone who is suffering the consequences of the
life he has chosen to live would come to himself. But sometimes we
prefer to deny the reality of our situation. Or, perhaps we prefer to
blame someone else for what we allowed to happen. Or, we prefer to hold
someone else responsible for our choices.
"It is my parents’ fault." "It is my husband or wife’s fault." "It is my
children’s fault." "It is my boss’ fault." "It is the fault of the
person who hurt me."
But it’s vital that we accept responsibility for our actions. That’s the
heart and soul of repentance. But the person who refuses to come to him
or herself will never repent. We can’t change the past. We can’t go back
and undo something we’ve done that was a horrible mistake. But we can
find forgiveness if we are willing to truly repent.
So, here is this prodigal son, feeding the pigs. He had nowhere to call
home. He had no family where he lived -- by his own choice he was in a
foreign country. He deliberately separated himself from his family and
his home. Very likely, his family had no idea where he was -- they
couldn’t find him if they tried. He didn’t even have enough money to buy
food. He looked like a man who fed pigs; he was dressed like a man who
fed pigs; and he smelled like a man who fed pigs. He was a starving man.
He was so thin you probably could count his ribs. A person who saw him
as he left home wouldn’t have recognized him as the same man.
Then came that moment when "he came to himself." When he saw himself for
what he really was. When he saw what he did for what it was.
At the moment that he came to himself, he stood at a fork on the highway
of life. One fork was the road to death. He could stay where he was, and
die. He could continue to do what he was doing, and die.
He could fill himself with the shame, the guilt, and the embarrassment
of self-pity, and die.
He could get angry at the world for all his misfortune, and die.
He could punish himself for all his wrong doing, and die.
He could just do nothing, and die.
The other fork was the road of courage. When he left home, he thought
that he was being courageous. But as he fed the pigs, he learned some
hard lessons about courage. He learned that it takes no courage to be
selfish, to be greedy, controlled by pleasure, rebellious, angry,
defiant. Those things don’t require courage because they don’t require
that you deal honestly with yourself.
But feeding pigs in a foreign country during an economic depression led
to the discovery of true courage. It takes courage to look your personal
failures "in the face" and admit them -- not to have a person force you
to confess them, but to admit them to yourself when there is no one to
talk to but you. It takes courage to accept responsibility for the mess
you made. It takes courage to take the necessary action to deal with the
mess you made. It takes courage to make a positive, constructive
decision and follow through.
If the prodigal son was to take the road of courage, he had to do some
specific things. First of all, he had to leave the pigs and get out of
the foreign country. Second, he had to get on the road that went home
and return to his family. Third, he had to admit his failure to his
father.
The hardest thing this man ever did in his life was also the most
courageous thing he ever did: he found the courage to go home.
I want you to think about all the difficulty involved in walking home.
He wanted to admit his mistakes and failure, but he didn’t know how his
confession would be received. Can you imagine his thoughts as he made
that trip?
In my opinion, the closer he got to home, the more afraid he became. "I
know what Dad is going to say. I can hear him now." "I just know how
upset Dad will be when he learns that I wasted all that money." "I know
how upset Dad will be because of what I did to his reputation." "And
then there’s my older brother oh, how I dread facing my older brother."
As he made the trip home, I wonder if there were moments when he thought
there was no need to complete the trip. "Dad will reject me." "My older
brother will run me off." "My former friends will shun me." "Nobody will
be glad to see me back." "I’ll be a constant, living embarrassment to
everyone." I wonder if there weren’t moments when he thought, "I had
rather die than go home and face everyone."
But I want you to pay special attention to the fact that without the
courage to go home, nothing in his life would have changed for the
better. For the prodigal son to come to himself was good, but if he did
nothing, nothing changed.
For him to realize his failure was good, but if he did nothing about it,
nothing changed.
For the man to accept responsibility for his mistakes were good, but if
he did nothing, nothing changed.
For the son to confess to himself that it happened because of his
choices and his decisions was good, but if he did nothing, nothing
changed.
For the man to be sorry for his decisions, sorry for the pain he caused,
sorry for his foolishness and wastefulness was good, but if he did
nothing about it, nothing changed.
The hardest thing that any of us will ever do is to deal honestly with
ourselves, and the most courageous thing that any of us will ever do is
to redirect our lives. It involves admitting our weakness. And it
involves trusting God enough to love us and accept us in spite of our
imperfection. It involves redirecting our lives and doing what is right,
with the right motives.
When the prodigal son "came to himself," he knew that he was dying. When
he faced the fact that what he had done and was doing was killing him,
he had to make a choice. When he made the choice to redirect his life,
he had to act on his choice.
I want to ask you are you in the same situation? I’m not talking about
the facade, the mask that you wear for everyone else to see. I’m not
asking if you have your family and friends fooled. I’m not asking if you
have the congregation fooled. I am asking, when you look deep in your
heart, when you are truthful and honest with yourself, when it’s just
you and God, are you where you ought to be?
If not you have a choice to make. And I pray that, like the prodigal
son, you’ll have the courage to do what may well be the hardest thing
you’ve ever done in your whole life -- and that’s go home.
You see, God wants you in His family. There has never been a time when
God didn’t want you in his family. But it’s not enough for God to want
you as His son or daughter. You have to want to be God’s son or
daughter.
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