From Sinners to Sons: How God Welcomes the Lost

The Pharisees and the scribes were rather grumbly about the characters Jesus chose to eat with. If he had chosen to eat exclusively with upstanding people such as themselves, they might have praised him. But the complaint spread from one man to another in a hushed and derogatory tone: “This man receives sinners and eats with them.” As has been said, it is glorious to hear the gospel upon the lips of even God’s enemies: Jesus receives sinners and eats with them.

We are indebted to these grouches, for in response, Jesus tells three parables that offer a window into the heart of God toward lost sinners. The first parable is about a shepherd losing one of his hundred sheep and leaving the ninety-nine in the open country to find it. The second concerns a woman who lost a coin and turns over the house to recover it, rejoicing when she does. The third parable tells the story of an estranged son who shames his father, squanders all his money on his lusts, and is welcomed back in his repentance with song and feast. These three parables are three petals of a heavenly flower, and that flower is called copia gratiae Dei, the abundance of God’s grace.

Jesus’s point is that as a shepherd goes after his missing sheep, or as one of us will go after something precious we lost in the house, so Jesus has come to seek and save lost souls. So, yes, Jesus receives sinners and eats with them.

These holier-than-thous do not need a Savior, so they complain about Jesus receiving those who do. (Oh, that such self-righteous men had more cause to moan about whom we eat with!) The mumbled criticisms of these Jonahs mad at God’s mercies clash with the music of heaven. “I tell you,” Jesus explains, “there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance” (Luke 15:7). Heaven sings about grace; the proud groan.

Jesus presses his indictment more directly in the story of the prodigal son, for the Pharisees get cast into the story. The father has two sons. The younger asks for his inheritance and proceeds to squander it in the far country on reckless living. A severe famine then arises, and the younger brother begins to be in need. He hires himself out to a most repulsive occupation for Jews — pig feeding. He sinks so low that the pods the pigs eat began to look appetizing.
“Jesus receives sinners and eats with them.”

When he “comes to himself,” he wakes from his godless stupor, considers his father and the provisions of his father’s servants, and begins to walk home, rehearsing his apology. What he finds when he crests the horizon shocks him and us: a compassionate and overjoyed father running, hugging, kissing, gifting the best robe, a precious ring, and shoes for his feet. And then a party. Rejoicing on earth as it is in heaven — “for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.” And they began to celebrate how the father receives sinners and eats with them.

Now the camera carries us into the field to watch the elder brother. Will he celebrate? We discover him angry, refusing to go in, and scornful of his father’s solicitations to join. With two eyes still on the Pharisees, Jesus says to these elder brothers that it was fitting to be glad, for those brothers who were dead are now alive, for those lost are now found. Jesus receives sinners and eats with them — rejoice and come join the feast!

In dramatic fashion, the parable ends. His was a choose-your-own-adventure story; they decided how it would close. They chose to seethe instead of surrender. How about you?

Consider with me in closing: how different is our older brother. Our humble Lord left out his part in the story. Our true elder brother — where is he?

He is in the field and watches you leave his Father. It grieves his soul to see you so reckless, so suicidal of soul. He knows that far country. He knows what awaits you — loss, temptation, poverty, death. He asks his Father what must be done. They conspire together to receive you back.

Still reeking of pig, you return. Your Father runs to you. Embraces you. Kisses and comforts you as though you had never left. You are dressed far above your deserts and led into the banquet, welcomed with laughter.

But someone is missing. “Father, where is my older brother, my dearest friend? I know Jesus receives sinners and eats with them.”

“Well,” says the Father, “he has gone away. He has traveled to a far country. He saw your reckless living and squandered inheritance. Debtors came looking for you. Insulted husbands and unsavory friends pursued you. The law demanded your blood. The king was against you. You escaped justice, my son, because justice found him. He was detained. Sentenced. Beaten. Condemned. He stayed behind so that you could come home.

“Like a good shepherd, he went after you. Like a woman who lost a valued coin, he searched for you. Your robe is his robe; your ring is his ring; this fattened calf is his fattened calf. He is your welcome back.

“So, where is your brother?” the Father asks amidst the banquet. With a gleam in his eye, he answers, “My Son was dead and is alive again. He will be here soon.”