Commentary on Luke 15:1-32
This is quite a cluster of texts for a preacher to tackle. Should you read these parables forward from sheep to prodigal, or backward from prodigal to sheep? Should you try to deal with all of them or settle in for a close reading of one (or a portion of one, if you are going for the prodigal)? There are gains and losses no matter which path you choose. Thankfully, you can return again and again and try something different each time.
Since there is a smorgasbord of commentary on these texts already, spanning many centuries, here we will explore a less common way into these parables, responding to Amy-Jill Levine’s caution against reading these stories as a rejection of a purported Jewish understanding of the character of God (in other words, assuming that the Jewish understanding was that God loves the righteous and hates sinners).[1]
Luke sets the stage for these parables in verse 1 with some tax collectors and sinners moving in close to listen to Jesus. And then Luke tells us that, in response to this, the Pharisees and the scribes standing nearby were “grumbling.” I think of grumbling as something one does quietly to one’s neighbor, but apparently this grumbling was loud enough that the substance of the complaint comes through. “This guy”—though they know his name—“this guy welcomes sinners and eats with them.” So, the issue on the table, according to Luke, is Jesus’ behavior toward people who are known to do bad, unrighteous, unholy things. And then Jesus turns to “them” and tells three parables.
But who is the “them”? Is it the grumblers? Is it the tax collectors and sinners pressing in? Or is it all of them together? Unclear.
All three parables involve the rhetoric of lost and found. All three involve throwing a party. The first two (sheep and coin) use the language of “repentance” as well, though note: the prodigal family parable does not. Reading these parables in the context of Luke’s frame (a response to the criticism that Jesus fraternizes with tax collectors and sinners) has many benefits. But a close reading of the stories in this light also reveals a good deal of awkwardness, as some commentators have observed.
Where, for example, does the issue of “repentance” come from? Is there an assumption that the tax collectors and sinners are spending time with Jesus, listening and eating and drinking and also, in some obvious way, repenting? The text doesn’t say that. And since sheep and coins can’t “repent” of anything, the first two parables rather lead one to consider that it may be the inattentive shepherd and the careless woman who have some self-reflection to do. If a sheep starts to wander off, you stop them. If you want to keep your coins safe, put them somewhere safe.
Likewise, are we sure the father in the third parable isn’t in a similar category? He lost two sons, and that didn’t happen overnight. As Amy-Jill Levine observes, the father did not challenge the younger son’s impractical plans, and he was slow to notice that the older son was missing from the festivities. There are lots of reasons for family dysfunction, of course, but usually parents have something to do with it. No judgment—parenting is hard—but are we sure this is a model father? The younger son was “found,” yes, but I wonder what this family will be like a few months from now, a few years from now, with a depleted nest egg and deep-rooted resentments still festering.
All this is to say: many traditional interpretations assume that these stories are allegories, with God as a referent. Occasionally, God is identified with the shepherd and the woman, but almost always God is identified with that father, full of grace, running down the road. It is a powerful interpretation, and has been a fruitful one.
But. The text doesn’t make that connection, and interesting things can happen when we don’t either. The central characters in these stories lost things. They caused or contributed to the absence of something. Perhaps the focus of these parables is not on the person/things that got lost but on the person who did the losing. It is that person who turns around and scours the hillsides and pries up the floorboards and runs down the road. It is that person who repents, repairs, and then throws a party. Because when you solve a separation problem, you should celebrate.
Read in this light, the message to the group of Pharisees listening in might be: You have lost relationships to tend to. You have work to do to rebuild or forge connections with the tax collectors and sinners. After all, they are sheep of your own flock, treasures from your own storehouse, members of your own family. And when those relationships are rekindled, these stories suggest, you should have a big party. That might preach.
I’m sure there are lots of objections to this reading. One of the confounding, beautiful things about every text, of course, is all the things it can mean. Preaching isn’t an either/or, especially when it comes to the parables of Jesus. Thanks be to God.
Notes
- See Amy-Jill Levine, Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi (New York: Harper One, 2015), 29–30.
PRAYER OF THE DAY
Rejoicing Father,
You celebrate when one of your lost children is found because no one is worthless to you. We stand humbled and in awe that you would count us among your most prized possessions. Give us eyes to see the priceless value of every living soul, for the sake of the one who became human for the sake of our souls, Jesus Christ our seeker. Amen.
HYMNS
Oh, that the Lord would guide my ways ELW 772
Amazing grace ELW 779, H82 671, UMH 378, NCH 547, 548
Come, thou fount of every blessing ELW 807, H82 686, UMH 400, NCH 459
CHORAL
Lead me, guide me, Doris Akers
March 23, 2025