The prodigal son was the lectionary text from Luke this week. We did it with four different voices - a narrator; the father; the older sibling; and the younger sibling. As the narrator notes, in our context the two siblings did not necessarily have to be sons, so we had a female voice for the older son/child. I think it worked quite well to expand our understanding of who God is and how we connect to the biblical text from our own context.
I had done a version of this dramatic interpretation sermon a decade or so ago as a solo sermon with me doing all the parts. It worked much better to have multiple voices. In the original sermon, I had reset the story in current times, but I figured this time if I were asking the listener to reimagine the older son as a sister, I didn't need all the other changes to reflect a modern context. Consequently, I had to revise the original sermon quite a bit.
“Why Do You Treat Me Like This?”, March 30, 2025; St. Andrew Presbyterian Church; Luke 15: 11-32
Lisa: A reading from Luke 15: 11-32
Then Jesus said, “There was a man who had two sons. 12The younger of them said to his father,
Nelson: ’Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’
Lisa: So he divided his property between them. 13A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. 14When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. 15So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. 16He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. 17But when he came to himself he said,
Nelson ’How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! 18I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; 19I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”’
LIsa: 20So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. 21Then the son said to him,
nelson: ’Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’
Lisa:22But the father said to his slaves,
Richard: ’Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; 24for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’
Lisa: And they began to celebrate. 25“Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. 26He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. 27He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.’ 28Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. 29But he answered his father,
Edie: ’Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. 30But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’
Lisa: 31Then the father said to him,
Richard: ’Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. 32But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’”
Lisa: the Word of the Lord.
narrator: We continue our Lenten preaching series on questions from the biblical texts.
Just before this story Jesus has told about a lost coin and a lost sheep;
now a story about two sons, both of whom seem lost.
We call it the parable of the prodigal son, which makes us think the point of the parable is only about the youngest son, but really, it’s a story about two sons.
In fact, it could be a story about two kids in any time or generation.
Two kids who seem to have lost their way, and their father, who has to figure out how to respond to both his lost kids.
The question this morning is not straight from the biblical text, but really a question either of the kids could ask and maybe did ask - “Why do you treat me like this?”
Maybe a question we ask God.
Nelson (younger Son): Why did my father treat me like this?
After all I did to him and my mother.
I weep tears of humility when I remember the day I marched in to see my father and demanded my inheritance right then and there.
It seemed like such a good idea to leave my family and their plans for me behind. I did not want the life my father had laid out for me. I did not want to be part of the business like my sister.
Maybe I went a bit overboard demanding my share of inheritance. I didn’t recognize the arrogance my parents must have seen in me.
My sister was mad at me. She did not understand at all.
my father shook his head and tried to talk me out of leaving, but when he saw I was determined to go, he somehow managed to come up with my portion of the future inheritance.
At the time, it made sense to me. I was done with my old life.
Done with my family.
Done with this town.
Done with all responsibilities. I could not get away fast enough, and thanks to my father agreeing to give me my inheritance, I had more money than I ever thought I would need.
Edie: Why does my brother treat me like this?
It was supposed to be the two of us working for our father and one day taking over the family business.
But he betrayed me. Instead of sticking around and doing the work, building the future together, he took off.
left the family behind.
left me, his older sister behind. As if he didn’t care what happened to me or the family.
and he had the gall to ask for his future inheritance. As if he even deserved it if he was going to leave us behind.
what a ridiculous request.
but instead of standing up to him, our father gave it to him.
and off my brother went, dancing down the path, laughing as he left his responsibility behind, left his family behind, left me behind.
Richard (father): Sometimes being a parent is wonderful.
I remember with joy the day both my kids were born. To bring my own flesh and blood into this world was a miracle beyond miracles.
When they were little, what great fun we had: playing games, watching them grow up; Ok the teen-age years had some rough patches, but still it was good.
Except it pained me to watch through the years as my two kids grew apart.
They grew into very different people. Different interests. They responded differently to their parents.
My oldest grew into to role we expected. Ok, there were a few challenges in her teen-age years,
but then she seemed to take on responsibility each year.
became Interested in the work we did.
the future for the family looks secure with her stepping into leadership now.
My younger son - not so much.
he never seemed to want to be part of what the family was doing.
the rebellious teen-age years never ended.
In fact, by the time my youngest son left, the only responses he had for me and his mother were anger and a desire to get away.
The day he left seemed like the darkest day of my life.
I had seen it coming;
tried to forestall it;
could not keep it from happening.
What could I do for my son when he wanted to leave the family, leave the business, and leave life as he knew it?
Part of me wanted to fight him, but too many battles had already been fought. Too many wounds needing to be healed.
Not only did he want out, but he wanted all of his inheritance to take with him. he was never coming back.
What could a father do? his mother and I talked about refusing his request, but in the end we let him go, with half of his inheritance in cash so he could take it with him.
As I watched him walk away, I knew I would never see him again. A part of me died that day.
Nelson: I thought I was so smart. Everyone I met had an new idea for how to make my next fortune. . Lots of investment opportunities. Lots of start-up costs. But I seemed to be the only one who was putting money into the projects.
And I was having fun. Parties and schemes. Parties and schemes. I was set to have a good time forever.
But Forever arrived sooner than I imagined. When the money was spent, suddenly the friends disappeared.
I was poor, and I was alone.
the day I realized that the garbage heap was both the place I found my food and the place where I slept at night, I knew my life was lost.
I knew I had sunk so low. Maybe too low to recover.
I began to dream about my family. About the life I had left. I knew I could not get it all back, but maybe my father would hire me back to work for him. after all, his hired hands were not eating out of the pig pile.
I had no way of contacting my parents. I had no money, but I began to crave the thought of seeing my parents, of returning home.
So off I headed for home. Each mile got me closer to home, but also each mile the dread grew of seeing my parents and my sister.
What if they did not recognize me? Or worse, what if they recognized me, but would not claim me as part of their family. I had sworn off my family years ago. Would they now abide by my decision?
I stopped down the road from my home, paralyzed by fear.
But then I saw my father on the path to the house. I tried to call out, but words would not come to me.
But then I noticed he was staring down the path at me. At first, he did not move. But then he started toward me.
Then, he started running with his arms wide open.
I heard him shout, “My son, you have returned!”
And then he threw a party for me, welcoming me home.
I have been given a new life.
I have been given another chance to be part of my family.
I wish I could undo the past, but I can’t. I am still haunted by the what I did to my family, but I am no longer held hostage by my previous mistakes.
I now see a new life waiting for me, a life I could not have imagined after all I had done to my family.
Richard (father): A day I will never forget.
I was standing outside looking down the road and saw a stranger coming toward me - no backpack, no luggage - he seemed to be slowly slouching down the road.
I turned away, but then was stopped by a memory of the stranger’s gait. There was something familiar about the way he walked.
I turned back to look more closely. Could it be? Could that be my youngest son coming home.
I used to wonder if I would be mad or glad to finally see him, and now I knew. My heart raced wiht joy.
Tears flowed down my cheeks.
My heart pounded relentlessly as I ran to meet him, shouting his name as he drew near.
His first words were “I have sinned against God and against my family.”
Before he could say anymore, I wrapped my arms around him.
He was back. My son has returned.
Edie. (Older son): Why does my father treat me like this? Where is the justice?
A party?
How could my father be throwing a party for his other kid, the one I used to call my brother, the one who ran away from it all. the one who left me behind.
I did not begrudge him for leaving although I did not like what he did to my parents with all his arguing. I did not like the pain he caused. I thought he was crazy for demanding his inheritance instead of working to grow his inheritance. But that was his choice.
So I worked hard. I took on the responsibility of being the only child in the business. I did everything my father asked of me, and more. I have worked side-by-side with my father everyday with no word from my brother.
our fortune has grown. My inheritance is greater now than it has ever been.
and never a word from my brother.
Good-bye and good riddance.
now this.
I worked late today, and on the way out, someone told me they would see me at the party.
the party? What party?
the one at your parent’s house? You must have heard. Your parents are throwing a party to celebrate the return of your younger brother.
Brother. I no longer had a brother. He was gone forever.
I headed over to their house and I could hear the celebration long before I got there. My parents seemed to invite everyone they knew.
The party looked like it was going to be bigger than my wedding reception a few years ago.
a party. just because he has come slinking back after blowing his inheritance. I am in shock.
My father found me looking in at the party.
“Come in and celebrate your brother’s return home.” he said.
Celebrate. I couldn’t stomach the thought.
All I could say was “Why?”
Why welcome that man who used to be my brother home?
He had left the family. He had made his decision years ago. He hadn’t cared enough to stay in touch.
Why welcome back this person that made my mother cry every night over never hearing from him.
Why celebrate the return of this man who did not even know my children, his nieces and nephews.
Why throw a party?
We should throw him out instead.
All I could say to my father was, “Why do you treat me like this?”
then I left.
Nelson (Younger son): I have asked my father again and again, “Why do you treat me like this?”
and all he does is smile and wrap his arms around me.
Richard (Father):
My younger son asks, "why do you treat me like this?”
How could I not.
My older son asks, “why do you treat me like this?” One day I hope he will know
Lisa: "Why do you treat me like this?”
A father and his two kids ask the question?
Why do you treat me like this?
A question we ask of God to which God replies, “how could I not?”
