Father and Sons

(Readings: Joshua 5:9-12 Psalm 32 2 Corinthians 5:16-21 Luke 15:1-2, 11-32)

Today’s Gospel reading (Luke 15:1-2, 11-32) is one of the most beloved parables in the Bible, the parable of the Prodigal Son. The heartwarming story of a father giving his long-lost son a lavish welcome home gives us all a graphic picture of God’s embracing love. Like other favorite Bible texts, it’s been preached so often and so much has been said about it that it may seem there’s nothing left to say. And yet, if we let the parable sit with us a bit, it may have some moments of discomfort, some jagged edges….and may yet reveal new insight into the depth and costliness of the love that God has for us, the depth and costliness of the love we are called to show for others. I would note that some of the material in this sermon comes from Henri Nouwen’s book titled, “The Return of the Prodigal Son” which we began to study last Sunday, and which we will continue to study this week and next.

Remember the setup for the story: the Pharisees and scribes are grousing that Jesus has lousy taste in friends, that he hangs out with sinners. What kind of example is Jesus setting, letting just anyone hang out with him? So Jesus tells them a story….

We know how the story starts: “a father has two sons, and the younger says, “Father, let me have the share of the estate that will come to me.” The words go by so quickly that we may not take in the full implication of the younger son’s request. In our society, we are used to the idea that at some point, children will leave their parents to make their way in the world. And it might not be unexpected for parents of moderate means to help children with, perhaps, a check to cover part of the down-payment on a starter home. But in the agricultural society of Jesus’ day, granting the son’s request would have meant selling off the younger son’s share of the family farm to convert it to cash, diminishing the family’s land holdings and risking the security of the rest of the family. More than that is what the son’s request says about his attitude toward his father. Normally the receipt of an estate means that a family member has died. The younger son’s request basically has the implication that he wishes his father were dead, but since that’s not the case, he wants the next best thing, to treat his father as if he were dead. Nice kid. Especially since there were no nursing homes to be found in this society, and so it was part of the social contract of the day that in return for being cared for as a child, an adult would care for his parents in their declining years. But the younger son wanted no parts of this – just “Hey dad, show me the money.” And in a village setting, of course, all this drama would be playing out for the entertainment of the neighbors.

But the father graciously divides his property among the two sons – the elder brother would have gotten 2/3; the younger, 1/3. A few days later, the younger son packs up his belongings and goes off to a far country – Gentile country, we should understand - where he squanders his money on loose living and surrounds himself with lots of fair-weather friends, who abandon him when the money runs out. He is eventually reduced to hiring himself out to Gentiles, to feed their pigs. In hunger and desperation he resolves to return home, with memorized little speech of repentance, prepared to ask his father to treat him as a hired servant. We don’t necessarily get the feeling that the son’s repentance is all that heartfelt; it’s entirely possible that, having abused his father’s generosity at the beginning of the parable, the son is entirely willing to manipulate his father’s feelings of compassion in order to save his own skin now.

Luke tells us that, “while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion, he ran out to put his arms around him.” In the society of Jesus’ day, the patriarch of family did not run; indeed, the patriarch’s children and servants would have run to do his bidding. But the father sacrificed all dignity in order to run out to meet his son, welcoming him lavishly and throwing a banquet.

It is at this point that we meet the elder son, who had been working in the field. When he hears that the younger son has returned and that his father was throwing a party, the elder son was furious. But once again, the father sacrifices his own dignity to go out and meet the elder son where he is, to plead with him to join the party. The elder brother spits his resentment into his father’s face: “For all these years I’ve worked like a slave; I’ve done all you asked, and you never threw a party for me – but when this son of yours comes back after spending all your money on his prostitutes, for him you kill the fatted calf!” In his resentment he has come to see his loving father as a taskmaster, a slavedriver. Despite the elder son’s dutiful obedience, we find that, in his own way, he’s as lost to his father as the younger son had been, whom the elder son names to his father as “this son of yours.” But the father tries to heal the relationship: “My son, you are always with me, and all I have is yours. But we had to celebrate, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life, was lost and has been found.”

It is part of the genius of Jesus’ parable that the ending is left open-ended. We aren’t told whether the elder brother ever joined the party to welcome his brother home. Nor are we ever really told whether the younger brother cleaned up his act. In the end, we’re left with the father’s extravagant love for both his sons, and his willingness to leave all personal dignity behind in order to heal his broken relationships with both of them.

I also believe this parable is memorable because I suspect we can all see ourselves in the parable. Perhaps our lives have carried us far from home, far from the embrace of the church, seemingly far from God. In this parable we can hear God’s voice of love for us, love that will not give up on us, in the words of our final hymn, love that will not let us go.

Or perhaps we see ourselves in the dutiful elder brother, the one who always did as his father asked, who never left home…but who feels resentment at the father’s welcome of the younger son. We may be like the Pharisees and scribes, wonder why Jesus always surrounds himself by such scummy people. Of course we realize it’s a good thing that the younger brother his home, but we think he should be put on probation, told to be quiet and go to his room, rather than welcomed home with a wild party. In some denominations, it seems like the folks with the most shocking pre-conversion stories, those who lived the most flagrantly sinful lives before coming to Christ, are the only ones valued. We’ve who have kept the home fires burning, perhaps kept our church going through good times and bad, may need reassurance that God just as passionately, just as extravagantly loves us, that God will meet us in our moments of resentment with words of healing and reassurance.

It may be difficult to see ourselves in the role of the father. And yet this is the direction in which Paul’s words point us: “we regard no one from a human point of view, even though we once regarded Christ from a human point of view….so if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation; old things have passed away; all things are become new. All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation.

The ministry of reconciliation – we see what this ministry looks like in the father’s words and actions, his willingness to sacrifice his dignity and security to heal broken relationships with both of his lost sons, and to welcome them into the circle of his love. The ministry of reconciliation, as we are called to proclaim God’s extravagant love both for those who are far off and those who are near, those who like the prodigal younger son have spurned the Father’s love, and those who like the elder son resent the Father’s love for those who have wandered. The ministry of reconciliation, as we proclaim God’s amazing grace that saved wretches like all of us.

Says the father, “We had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life, was lost and has been found.” May we here at Emanuel Church rejoice in God’s prodigal, lavish, extravagant love for us, and God’s prodigal, lavish, extravagant love for all who come our way. Amen.