This Sunday we are presented with perhaps one of the most widely known stories in the Gospel of Luke - the Lost Son.
One of the characteristics of Luke's account of the Gospel is that it groups together similar stories to emphasise their meaning. Stories of healing are often told in groups of three, and this week's Gospel reading is also one of three connected parables. There is the Lost Sheep, the Lost Coin and now the Lost Son. All three of these stories are prefaced by the muttering of the pharisees, who are scandalised that Jesus welcomes sinners.
So Jesus asks them to consider the shepherd who is not content to care for the many and abandon the one, but seeks out the lost sheep and rejoices when it is returned to the fold. Or the woman who lights a lamp, burning expensive oil, just to search for the one lost coin that she could surely have waited to find in the morning when the sun had risen. And likewise, she rejoices with those that are close to her when it is found.
In the first story, though it is the sheep that is lost and then found, it is the remarkable determination of the shepherd that we are struck by. And in the second, it is the resolve of the widow that won't let it go that Jesus asks us to consider.
And then we hear the story of the father that has lost his son.
This technique of zooming in is common in Luke's Gospel. We come from a story of one sheep in a hundred, to one coin in ten, to a man with only two sons. From property, to financial security, to blood.
In all three stories the key is the extravagance with which the shepherd, the widow and the father respond.
When his son demands his inheritance now, the unspoken message is clear. 'I cannot hang around waiting for you to die!' Yet the father welcomes him home with great joy. This son that has lost his inheritance, denied his family, broken the laws of his religion and lived among foreigners is still welcomed because the heart of his father is bigger than his sin.
It is a beautiful image of God's mercy, but it is also a challenge for me. Unlike the older son, the father does not hold onto his hurts. We do not find him sitting in sorrow. We find that compassionate love overcomes all faults.
For the first half of Lent the Gospel has challenged me to reflect on my own failings. Now I feel that the challenge is whether I can let go of my own hurts and frustrations, enlarge my heart, and forgive the failings of others. To stop muttering like a pharisee.

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