#16 Dr. Tony Campolo who is a professor of Sociology at Eastern College in Pennsylvania, tells the story of wandering the streets of Honolulu at 3:30 a.m. Tourists are wide awake six hours before dawn, ready to go. He wanted some breakfast, but everything was closed. Finally up a side street he found a little “greasy spoon” still open. But it was so filthy he wouldn’t touch the menu! He sat on a stool and ordered coffee and a donut from the fat guy behind the counter. Harry served his donut with his grimy, greasy bare hands! As he sat there munching, the door opened and much to his discomfort, in marched eight or nine provocative and boisterous prostitutes. They sat down right beside him! Their talk was loud and crude. Felt completely out of place and was just about to make his getaway when he overheard the woman sitting beside him say, “Tomorrow’s my birthday. I’m going to be 39.” Her friend responded rather nastily, “So what do you want from me, a birthday party? You want me to get you a cake and sing ‘Happy Birthday?’” The girl replied, “Aw, c’mon. Why are you so mean? I was just telling you, that’s all. Why do you have to put me down? I was just telling you it was my birthday. I don’t want anything from you. I mean, why should you give me a birthday party? I’ve never had a birthday party in my whole life. Why should I have one now?” When Campolo heard that, he made a decision. He waited until the women left. Then he asked, “Harry, do they come in here every night?” “Yeah.” “The one right next to me, does she come every night?” “Yeah. That’s Agnes. She comes in every night. Why d’ya wanna know?” “Because I heard her say tomorrow is her birthday. What do you say you and I do something about that? What do you think about us throwing a birthday party for her – right here – tomorrow night?” “That’s great! I like it!” Calling to the back room: “Hey Woman! Come out here! This guy’s got a great idea. Tomorrow’s Agnes’s birthday. This guy wants us to go in with him and throw a birthday party for her - right here - tomorrow night.” His wife came out all bright and smiley: “That’s wonderful! Agnes is one of those people who is really nice and kind to everyone. But nobody ever does anything nice and kind for her.” “Look,” said Campolo, “If it’s okay with you, I’ll return tomorrow about 2:30 a.m. and decorate and even get a birthday cake!” “No way,” said Harry. “Birthday cake is my thing. I’ll bake the cake.” At 2:30 Campolo was back with crepe-paper decorations, a cardboard sign saying “Happy Birthday!” He decorated the diner from one end to the other. The woman who did the cooking must have gotten word out on the street because at 3:15 every prostitute in Honolulu was in the place! Wall-to-wall prostitutes. And the preacher: Campolo! At 3:30 on the dot, the door swung open and in came Agnes and her friend. Campolo, who was dubbed “emcee”, had everybody ready on cue as they screamed, “Happy Birthday!” Agnes was stunned, flabbergasted, shaken. Her mouth fell open, her legs buckled. She sat down on a bar stool. Agnes got misty-eyed. But then when the birthday cake came out, she lost it and just wept. Harry gruffly mumbled, “Blow out the candles, Agnes! Come on! Blow out the candles! If you don’t blow out the candles, I’m gonna hafta blow out the candles.” He did finally. “Cut the cake, Agnes. Yo, Agnes! We all want some cake.” Agnes wailed, “Is this really my birthday cake?” “Yes.” Agnes wanted to take the cake home! “Okay. It’s your party.” So Agnes left. Campolo prayed. Everyone had a great time. When the girls and everyone was gone, Harry leaned over the counter and said, “Hey! You never told me you were a preacher! What kind of church do you belong to?” (It was one of those moments when just the right words came.) “I belong to a church that throws birthday parties for prostitutes at 3:30 in the morning.” Harry waited a moment, then sneered: “No you don’t. There ain’t no church like that. If there was, I’d join it. I would!” Isn’t that the kind of church Christ came to create? Not the one we’ve got, perhaps, so prim and proper. Jesus loved to party – with all kinds of left-out people. Publicans, sinners, lepers. They all loved Him because He partied with them. But Jesus not only associated with sinners. He enjoyed their company. In fact, He preferred going to cocktail parties with strippers and Mafia. When the elders and good people confronted Him, Jesus said, “Quite frankly, I prefer their company to yours!” “Daring evangelism for a dying world” forces us to take another look at the three parables Jesus told in Luke 15. If you have your Bible, turn with me to Luke 15, where Jesus tells the familiar story of the lost coin, lost sheep, and lost son. They were all lost. But they represent something. COIN: It didn’t
know it was lost. Does a coin have a brain? No. No awareness it
was lost. So this coin represents those who are brain-dead –
hopelessly lost. Someone must diligently “sweep and find”
it – or its history. It represents those who are lost and
don’t know it. But they are ALL lost. So, what’s the point? Ah! These three stories were given on purpose, NOT to trumpet their lost-ness. The grumpy Pharisees knew that. Jesus told it to emphasize the Finder’s outrageous joy! Jubilee. The “C” word (celebration). Listen, friend. Jesus designed the church to be a PARTY! To show the world a thrilling foretaste of what’s coming. That knowing Christ can be more exciting than a Saturday night date! God historically called His Old Testament Jews to do precisely that. Every 50th year, the “Jubilee” was to be an outrageous party! Debts canceled, land return to original owners; prisoners set free. The heathen would say, “Wow! We want in!” However, the Jews never observed the Jubilee. Their rabbinical schools taught it, but declared that was for Messiah to do when He ushered in the New Kingdom. But God knew that whenever God’s people get together to celebrate and laugh and sing, they evangelize! We send out a message to the unsaved: Good News! The Kingdom is at hand! So outsiders would say, “Hey! We want in!” The church is supposed to be like that – so amazing and happy in celebrating Jesus that those on the outside pound on our doors and say, “How do I get in?” I know critics will blast away. Somebody always finds fault if you make the Gospel GOOD News! Christ warned we’d be criticized – just like He was! Matthew 11:16-19. <Matthew
11:18, 19> Jesus said, “No matter what I do, there will be religious types who will NOT be satisfied; there will always be faultfinders who pick us apart.” Judas-types who complain about perfumes and colognes. But Jesus didn’t let this “killjoy” throw a wet blanket on His party and get away with it. Now, please. We’re not talking about WORLDLY partying. The world has its parties, too. Like the hazing party there in Illinois last week that was repulsive and obscene. Or, the movie: “Animal House.” It portrayed college fraternity parties as the best fun any late adolescent could hope to enjoy. That’s NOT the kind of partying Jesus is recommending: extravagant bashes with booze, babes, and boogie. They’re cruel, dehumanizing. Empty. Impoverished. They never hold a candle to the joyful celebrations of the people of God. But I know from personal experience that so many of our church worship services are devoid of excitement. God’s messenger says a lot about our worship in the Index to the writings of E. G. White. Do you what she says about most of our worship? “It tires the angels!” Most men and women live out their lives in quiet desperation. That’s why we need some “spiritual daredevils!” Daring evangelism for a dying world. Evil Knievel Christians who become a very special kind of “party animal”; not simply accepting 27 propositional truths about Jesus, but daring to become blazingly alive - allowing Jesus to invade our entire personality. Daring evangelism creates a party. That’s God’s radical plan for His family! Whenever anybody becomes a Christian, it’s party time. [PARADISE EXPERIENCE: BAPTISM PARTIES] That’s precisely why Jesus told the story of the prodigal son, to make this point. <Luke 15:22-24> As one African-American preacher put it: You gotta be in the possession, not just a profession if you want to be in the procession. Else if you’re not in the possession and it’s just a profession, you won’t be in the procession, but in the DIS-possession! This “prodigal” is as rotten a figure in the New Testament as Jesus ever characterized. It’s impossible to over-dramatize how deceptive, manipulative, ego-centered, and arrogant he was. “Dad, I don’t like being your son. I wish you were dead so I could collect my inheritance! Since you aren’t, I want outta here. Give me my inheritance and I’m history.” <Luke 15:12> This dumb dad gives the boy what he wants – half the family fortune! Then the kid packs his bags and heads his shiny new Corvette straight for Las Vegas. That’s what it says in Luke 15:13. “Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living.” The Greek implies he plunges into the worst kind of sin and immorality possible. He blows the entire bundle on booze, bunnies, bimbos, blackjack, and bubbly burgundy wine. He’s light years from home down in “Glitter Gulch.” But the pen of inspiration reminds us of the sad, sobering fact that these prodigals are OUR kids. That should be haunting us. They’re not here with us this morning. The question this morning is, “What can be done to win the prodigals back to God?” I want to share something with you about this parable that may shock you. But before I do, so no one misunderstands, let’s review first. The Lost Coin: How was is it found? Someone sweeps and turns the place upside down. (23 projectors. 5-Day Plans. Medical programs. Weigh-Right. Medical van ministry on Wall Street…) In the Lost Sheep story, how is it finally found? The Shepherd goes in search. This is evangelism personified. It Is Written, Voice of Prophecy, Faith for Today, Breath of Life! But in the Prodigal Son story he was sought after by whom? No one. You DON’T go after the prodigal. Inspiration corroborates this about our children who leave the faith. You DO NOT go after them! You don’t harass them and hound them – or what happens? You’ll drive them farther away! So, what does the father do? The father does “his part.” He takes his precious child to Cradle Roll, Sabbath or Sunday School, elementary school, junior camp, Pathfinders and Boy Scouts, baptism, foot washing, academy, college. But one sad day the son goes astray, tearing out the hearts of the parents. And cruel people say, “You failed, as a parent.” And they put a guilt trip on you. Or, blame the school, or the Sabbath/Sunday School teachers. We forget that the Best Parent ever “failed,” too. In fact, He “failed” with a whole planet in rebellion. But notice the parable: Does the father hire a detective? Does he call a minister in the far town? E-mail a friend? No. What did he do? Nothing. He didn’t even leave his house. Since he’d met all his requirements, he could expect God to do His. He could pray: “Holy Spirit, You go for my son. I can’t go.” But he was ready and waiting - and he left the light on! One day at the Vegas slots the money finally runs out. Suddenly this Don Juan kid has no friends. He’s sunk to the bottom, eating with pigs out of sewers! Notice Verse 17 because it is profoundly significant: “And when he came to himself...” To save the Prodigal you don’t “send a posse” (or “Signs of the Times” or religious tracts or pleading letters). He knows he’s lost. And he also knows the way back! You’ve got to let the Holy Spirit awaken him with a “spiritual pinch.” And he has to come to this moment of truth himself, in his own time. One day he wakes up and says, “What am I doing here? I created this mess: I have no food. No money. No friends. No options! I can’t blame my friends, my principal, or even my religious fanatic brother back home.” You know what? Flip Wilson’s theology is right: “The Devil made me do it!” And in his moment of self-realization he completely gives up! He finally says to himself in Verses 17-20, “...‘How many of my father’s hired men have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men.’ So he got up and went to his father.” Please note, it does NOT say he repented yet. He hasn’t changed yet. Oh, he thinks up a speech. But notice, he’s still works-oriented: “Goin’ home to work for Dad. I’ll qualify to be a servant. Try to earn my keep.” Many theologians say this son comes home for only one reason: to manipulate the father once again. Because that’s the way sin always is. When we as sinners come to Jesus Christ we always come for the worst possible reasons. Like Judas Iscariot, as “Exhibit A.” But notice what happens next. This is very important. The father doesn’t care why the son comes home! And he doesn’t walk to meet his son. He runs! In the Middle East, this would be unheard of. Undignified. But Jesus has the father running. And notice, does he accept him because he has repented? NO! It’s crystal clear in the Gospels. One day the father sees him at a great distance. In other words, the son hasn’t changed. He’s still a hobo, still a bum. Dad smells his ragamuffin son afar off. Yet he still runs and embraces him. Welcomes him BEFORE the son can confess or make any statement whatsoever. The son is accepted, period. Oh, he starts to blubber out an excuse. But he’s interrupted! Notice Verses 20-24, “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him. The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’” In the book, “What’s So Amazing About Grace,” Philip Yancey tells the story of a young teen-age girl in Traverse City, Michigan who decided her dad was stupid and home was stupid and church was stupid. So she runs away to Detroit and ends up a druggie earning a living by turning “tricks” like all the other homeless girls do. She’s sleeping on metal grates outside department stores through the hard Detroit winter. I never realized how true this is across North America until I saw it with my own eyes in Toronto, Canada…Teenagers. Homeless. Sleeping on sidewalks under pieces of cardboard beside Simpson-Sears and Eatons and the Hudson Bay Company. This girl finally decides one night to call home, and three times straight gets her folks’ answering machine. She hangs up. Finally the third time after the beep she blurts out: “Dad, Mom, it’s me. I was wondering about maybe coming home. I’m catching a bus up your way, and it’ll get there about midnight tomorrow. If you’re not there, well, I guess I’ll just stay on the bus until it hits Canada.” Next day she rides for seven hours. Worries. Practices her speech. “Daddy, mother – I’ve been so foolish. Can you ever forgive me?” The bus gets closer. Her heart is pounding. “What if they never even got the message? What if they’re not there?” They get to Traverse City. The bus pulls in to the little station with neon lights. “15 minutes, rest stop, folks!” the driver announces. Fifteen minutes to decide her life. It’s pure terror. She checks her hair, licks the lipstick off her teeth. Now, according to the math of the world she ought to get nothing. Zip. And she knows it. No forgiveness, no welcome back, no making up, especially after how she slapped everyone in the face, then ran away. So she walks into the terminal, not knowing what to expect. Never in her wildest dream expecting to see what’s there. Forty people, brothers and sisters, great-aunts and uncles and cousins and grandmother and great-grandmother! All wearing goofy party hats and blowing noisemakers. And a huge banner taped across the entire terminal, “Welcome home!” And there comes her Dad. Her eyes fill with tears, and she begins her memorized speech, “Daddy, I’m so sorry. I know I hurt you...” He interrupts her, “Hush, child! We’ve got no time for that. You’ll be late for the party! A banquet’s waiting for you at home!” So often when prodigals say: “Folks, I’m so sorry! I’ve sinned. I want God,” parents say, “Yeah, right! I’ve been praying for you to come to your senses, boy! It’s about time. Girl, do you know my reputation’s about shot?” So many parents, aggravated at their kids, go POW! POW! “You shamed me. You embarrassed me, daughter.” POW! Don’t say that, friend! Keep your mouth shut! And let the Holy Spirit finish the job! “Dad, Mom, I want to come back!” Say, “Okay,” not “Girl, unless you mean it and change, you can pack your bags and leave!” Dear heart, if you have a prodigal, and you’ve done your best, don’t worry or nag. You can send the Holy Spirit. You get down on your knees, because God won’t forget His faithful servant. If we will be faithful to go get the lost sheep and the lost coin, we can leave it to God to get the prodigal son or daughter. Amen? Do you know what the inspired pen says the final message to this world is? The last message of love to this world is the character of God. Love! Well, the radical Good News of the Gospel is that the Father is more “prodigal” than the prodigal! “Prodigal” means overly lavish, extravagant, generous. Wild, reckless, wasteful, spend-a-holic! The real “prodigal” in the story is the father! Outrageous generosity! He gives away half the family fortune; then hands the prodigal son the keys to the bank again! Undiminished love – for both sons. BOTH sinned. Both were prodigals. Both needed Jesus. Today, every one listening to my voice is in this story. Today, we have either taken the inheritance down to zero, or maybe you have a few dollars left of good deeds left in the bank. But, we’re all prodigals! In Luke 15, I was blown away to discover Jesus never finished the story. It’s the “unfinished symphony.” There’s no hint either son ever changed his ways; that the young prodigal ever conducted himself honorably. Do you know why Jesus didn’t finish the story? He told it this way on purpose. “Christ’s Object Lessons,” page 209, says it’s because they represent us. And it’s up to us to finish the story! The Good News is God’s waiting out there and He’s ready to party! He is ready with the robe, with the ring, and ready with the shoes. Oh, and there’s one thing about heaven: They seem to be able to afford an awful lot of parties up there! Oh, a "P.S."
Denouement. God wants us to be like that! Creating parties for prodigals. Making our churches and our homes and our job sites places where sinners can feel welcome again. And comfortable, even the Agneses and prodigals of this world. This morning as the Heritage Singers sing about Home, I know there are individuals here who right now want to respond to this message this morning. Perhaps you feel like the prodigal, and you want to respond to the open arms of the Father – and you want to say, "Lord, I'm coming home!" I want to invite you to come forward while they sing. But there are others out there, too, who have a prodigal. Or, know a prodigal. While the Heritage sings, I want every person here to make a decision. And to come forward and respond to the voice of the Holy Spirit playing sensitively on our hearts.
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