[AI translation] Dear brothers and sisters! Several times and in many different forms, we have already spoken among ourselves here in this church about this shining pearl of the Bible, this wonderful, great story of the prodigal son. So much so, that hardly anything new can be said about it any more. And yet, when I want to preach the Word among you on the basis of this, perhaps I will not say anything new either. But I would like to repeat again the message of God that I have just received from him. I would like to organise my message around four groups of questions. These four questions are: Why did this boy want to leave home; then: where did he go? Then: what made him go home again? And finally, what kind of reception did he receive?So why did this boy want to leave home? Yes! Why? Was he not happy at home? Isn't it good to have a home? Isn't it good to have a father to whom you belong, who cares for you, who surrounds you with love, who gives you advice, who gives you everything you need? Isn't it good to have brothers and sisters with whom you can breathe the same spiritual air? Is it not good to be a child, the child of a rich, kind mother? Is it not good to work together with our Father? To feel his gaze upon us? To fall into his love, to ask his advice, to open our hearts to him, to talk to him in intimate fellowship about all our troubles and troublesome affairs? Isn't that good?! Of course it is! It is the best thing in the world that can exist. Homer said of Odysseus, the great wanderer of the underworld: There is nothing in this world greater, nothing sweeter, than a loving home with loving parents.
And indeed, brothers and sisters, if this is true even on earth, how much more is it true in the relationship of which the Word speaks to us. There is no greater thing in the world than that we human beings have a Father in heaven. There is no more sublime privilege than that we men, miserable, miserable wretches, can say that we have a Father who is in heaven... It is a great thing. But then why do we not feel good with him and for him? Why do we always want to get rid of him again and again, of him who always wants the best for us, the best for us? What a strange instinct of flight in the heart of man, which always, again and again, drives him away from the Father! Somewhere far away in the countryside, he takes us away from God. How is it possible, brothers and sisters, that we human beings sometimes rush headlong into our own destruction, and that we cannot long endure the peace and joy of being with God, but are always more attracted by that distant land, that unknown far-off place, and its utter uncertainty? Is it not something unnatural? You see, the pair of swallows have to push their chicks out of the nest almost as soon as it is time for them to fly, and we humans are eager for the moment when we can turn our backs on God and go our own way and do things our own way. But why? Isn't this something unnatural?
Is it because this prodigal son, who makes the Father's care of him a nuisance, wanted to make himself a great adulterer? He wanted to be free from the laws, rules, regulations which his father had imposed on him, and which he felt were paralysing his free movement, his free will. Somehow, he thought to himself, let no one else lay down laws for me, I know for myself what is right and what is wrong. I am grown up enough, my head is full grown, I can stand on my own two feet. Have you not ever felt, brothers and sisters, that sometimes life is so difficult, so narrow, because of the limits that God places on us? When he says over and over again, "Don't do this, don't do that! Don't tolerate that thought in yourself, don't look at another man's woman with longing desire! Forgive him who has wronged you. Love even your wrongdoer. Take up your cross and so follow me, deny yourself, resist temptation, and so on... These are all barriers that all prevent a man from doing what is right at last. Outside these barriers, yes, there, outside the barriers, there is the lure of unknown pleasures. There, outside the limits, is somewhere the free life one longs for. There at last I can be my own man. I can do as I please, I can live my life uninhibited. Pregnant sometimes is a moral dependency. So why should I let my instincts and desires clash again and again with God's commandments, God's laws and prohibitions? Yes, brethren, I believe there are many such children of God who fear that they will not be able to enjoy life if they remain always close to God the Father, that they will miss out on something that this life could still offer them in the way of pleasure, and therefore they will want to become independent. That is why the prodigal son went away.
But where did he end up! Brethren, there is no greater foolishness in the world than the belief that if I set myself free from the commandments of God and the law of God, then I shall be free, then I shall be set free. Exactly the opposite tends to happen. Look how the story continues in verses 14 and 15: "And after he had spent all he had, there arose a great famine in that land, and he began to be in need. Then he went to one of the citizens of that country, and he sent him into his fields to feed the pigs..." This is the tragicomedy of separation from God. This son leaves because he wants to be free from his father's tutelage and soon finds himself under the dominion of someone else. At home he could have been free, he could have been free to be a son, a sweet child, but he didn't want that, and in the foreign land he becomes a servant. And this is how it always happens. So he does not become free, he has simply changed masters and made a bad exchange, because man is always in debt to someone, either to God or, if not to God, then to one of the citizens of that country far from God. And it makes no difference what that citizen is then called: drink, money, sexual instinct, career, success, fear of disease, tomorrow... Whatever, then, it serves as such, because there is no neutral state in which man can be entirely his own master and do as he pleases. There is a German proverb which says that if you push God out of the door, the substitute gods will come in through the window. And that's always the case. If I want to make one of my instincts, for example, one of my desires, independent of God, and if I want to live it out freely, uninhibited, then that instinct or that desire suddenly grows stronger, becomes a tyrant, takes over, becomes a god - a substitute god, of course. For everything becomes a god over us that we do not place at the service of the one true God. It is always the case that when one becomes independent of God, one is taken away to one of the citizens of that country. As a servant, of course. And after a short time of toiling, he becomes a slave. Poor prodigal son!
Do not these prodigal sons see, and cannot see, and cannot see that the prohibitions and the commands which God places before us are not intended to prevent us from being free, but, on the contrary, are intended to secure us freedom. In other words, they are there to keep us free from the forces that hinder and bind us. He who emigrates to a land far from God cuts off his roots. Roots, of course, mean a certain bondage, but also a connection with the forces of life. And whoever frees himself from this will wither away in a short time. Poor prodigal sons want to run riot. As if by turning their back on God, something new and something good would come into their lives. As if by leaving one's home, one's spiritual home, and one's loyalty to God, and one's godly life, and one's discipline, and one's gratitude, one would suddenly become happier, more liberated. Brothers and sisters, if man could become happy so easily, then this humanity of today would be swimming in a sea of unspeakable happiness! For today there are whole multitudes who have thrown away the father's house and its customs and the faith of childhood - and have become happier? No. The further they went down this road, the greater the confusion. The more carefree they became. The end of this journey is bitter. Behold, so we read in this verse, "He sent him into his field to feed swine, and he desired to fill his belly with the swill that the swine had eaten, and no man gave him." Brothers and sisters, this is how the substitute gods always pay when one becomes independent of the one true God. That is what man gains, degradation, and swill, and hunger, and war, and family tragedies, and unhappy lives, and ruined destinies - hell on earth. This is where the prodigal son goes, and all prodigal sons go.
But still, you know, this abyss is good for something. For behold, the story goes on. I will rise up and go to my Father, and will say to him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and against you. What made this boy think of going home after all? Hunger, need, misery. It is not that he regretted leaving his father unloved. It is not that he wanted to see again the father who had so sadly bidden him farewell and looked after him when he had gone away, no! He wanted to eat, for his stomach was empty. His stomach was growling. There was no remorse in that. He was in trouble. Well, that's not a very noble motive! He's driven home by the most primitive necessities of life. Of course, he invented an appealing explanation, a reason, and said to himself, "I have sinned against heaven and against you," but that was just a nonsense, not a word of it was true. He does not mean it. He had no repentance, no real repentance, no... He just wanted to eat, because no one was giving him food, and now he's trying to eat at home, and he might as well be a hired man, just to get something to eat, just to rest a little after all the deprivation. He is a wretched man, this prodigal son, to the very depths of his soul! Is that all he needs a father for? Is that all a mother is for, to help him when he's in trouble?!
But, brothers, let us be a little careful before we judge him too harshly. Is it not always the case today that we too seek God's nearness with a truly longing heart, that our prayers are truly fervent when something is wrong? When we are at the end of our tether, when our lives have reached a dead end somewhere? There is nothing in the world that turns one's gaze towards God as much as trouble. Physical or spiritual suffering. What wickedness is in us, brothers and sisters! That as long as we are doing well, God is not really a necessity of life for us. There are times in our lives when it is almost indifferent whether there is a God. When God is downright dispensable to us. But then, when hunger comes, or illness, or death, or fear, we suddenly remember God and cry out, "Oh God, help me now!
Here I understand why this father let this boy go when he wanted to leave. Why didn't he hit the table? Why did he not restrain him, even by force? Because he must have known that he would be driven home by necessity, and that when he was sick and tired of life and of what he had experienced in that far-off country, far away from his father, he would remember how good it was at home. Does God not do a man good when he lets himself go bankrupt, when he lets himself go into trouble, so that his pride is shattered and he finally comes to the point where he needs God, he needs God, because he can't do without God? Yes, when you are in trouble, you can do a lot of things. This prodigal son does things he would never have thought of otherwise. I really wouldn't be surprised if this father distracts the boy approaching his house with the dogs, along with all his fictitious repentance - muttering to himself "I have sinned against heaven, and you against me...". He does not feel that he has sinned! You're lying, you're lying, you're hungry, and no one will give you... You're in trouble, you're bankrupt, and now you're trying to go home. You don't want your father, you just want his riches to live on, to fill your stomach again. In fact, with a bit of malice, one might even say that once you've had your fill again, and rested up a bit, this kid will turn his back on everything again anyway. He'll go off again to some far-off foreign land.
Because that's the way it is with people like that. They just stay with God as long as the trouble lasts. And once the sky above them is revealed, the great desire to seek God immediately subsides. Where are the people who, they remembered, used to make promises in the bunkers that God would help them now! Where are the parents who at that time, here at this table, baptised their children with such a big, pious face? Where are the patients who so urgently called the pastor to bring them communion before a serious operation? Where are the people who so painfully besieged heaven at a critical moment in life? It is a suspicious thing, dear brothers and sisters, it is always suspicious when one is driven by need to seek God's protection and God's help.
But what love is that which accepts you thus! Behold, we read, "He arose and went to his father. And while he was yet afar off, his father saw him, and his heart was moved, and he ran to him, and fell on his neck, and kissed him. You know, I'm kind of like that, I almost want to shout out to this father: Father, what are you doing? Don't be so hasty! Can't you see that this is your son, he only comes home to eat because his stomach is empty? Well, he's just coming home to rest a little, because he's exhausted in the foreign country and has wasted his life force. Then, when he's rested, he'll leave you again. This man's remorse is not true! He's just a little freaked out. Well, it's not you he's looking for, mother, it's only what you give him that he can get from you, don't be hasty, you're too good faith with your son! Well, this child doesn't really love you. Don't believe him!
You, dear Father, are too good faith with this world. You're too good faith, sweet Father, to us who have come here to this church. Yes, dear Father, don't you know why we are here? Well, we are here because we are afraid of the future or we are afraid of cancer! Or because we're afraid of tomorrow, or because life is hopeless. Or because some grief has made our hearts clench, because our lives have reached a dead end somewhere and we don't know where to go, so that's why we're here! Well, dear Father, don't think that everything is so fine with us church-goers, it's not fine! Don't think that we're such real repentant sinners - we're not! We get freaked out sometimes, and that's when we look for you. Don't think we're all well-ironed believers - we just look it!
Sweet Father, we don't want to convert! We don't really want to be converted, we are just looking for a little warmth because our souls are so cold out there in the world. Well, we don't want to be your dear children, always at home, always in communion with you, no, we don't! We just ask you for a little protection, because life is so hard. We only ask for a little kindness because people are so bad, we only come here for an hour or two to rest and breathe a little different air than outside, because the air outside is stifling and we need your air sometimes. We don't want to convert, we just want a little occasional help because we're in trouble. Well, that's the truth, Father, that's the truth. Don't believe us, we are deceivers, we deceive, and all our other gracious words are just a sham and a lie.
O how far we are from wanting to come home to our Father with such true repentance! And look, far as we are from this, our Father has already seen us. He has already touched us, he has already opened his arms to us, he is already running to us and embracing us and kissing us. Such a welcome no prodigal son could ever be ready for! Are we so loved? Are we so much expected? Does God take it so seriously that we, who are driven to him now and then only by necessity, really want to come to him? Do we really want to go home? Look, he doesn't even ask why you came, he's just happy that you came, that you're here, God is happy that you're here, whatever you came for. He doesn't say to your face, "Well, now you need me because you're in trouble, and now you can beg me to help you! He doesn't say a word about it, but simply accepts you as you are. In fact, he not only accepts you, he takes you back completely. As if you had never left him, and he wants to give you much, much more than you expected. Not only a little refreshment, not only a word of comfort, not only an occasional help in trouble, but he wants to restore you to your full boyish dignity. Look, God believes in us, God trusts us, God wants to share his full love, his paternal love, he invites us to his table. He sits us down next to him, in the main seat. He honors you with his trust and his love, and he offers you his hand, saying, "This is my body, my only one. This is my blood, shed for you, drink of it, all of you.
See how God rejoices! How He delights in you, who came to Him with half a heart. Behold, he is so glad that the Father says to his servants, 'Bring out the best robe. Put it on him, put a ring on his hands, and a shoe on his feet, and bring out the fatted bullock, and cut it off, and it shall be a bullock! Cut him down, and let us eat and be merry!
Thus shall our Father be pleased with you and me. Don't want to spoil his joy. Do not abuse his trust. Rejoice with Him. Rejoice that even if you are lost to God, God is not lost to you. Through this story, see the Father who is coming to you with outstretched arms. Who even from heaven came to this earth after you, as real and bloody as the crucified and risen Jesus. Yes, he is looking at him, at Jesus, because he told this story. The one who said "I and the Father are one" and "he who has seen me has seen the Father". So Jesus is the voice of God's fatherly heart crying out to you, "whoever comes to me I will in no way cast out", so you can come with courage. You can come as you are. God accepts you, all doors are open to you, God is waiting, waiting with open doors. The bread that is broken and the wine that is poured out, which our Father puts in your hand at this table, is a witness to you. Do not let God be disappointed in you. He will receive you as one who truly, sincerely, fully wants to come back to Him. Let us try to come like that. And so to say:
I come bringing nothing,
Clasped in your cross,
Naked to clothe me,
Orphaned, trusting to pity me;
Let not sin rest:
Wash it off, O, for it will consume you!
Amen.
Date: 22 October 1967.