Dear Folks,
No scripture is more familiar to us than the tale of the Prodigal Son. Say the opening words, “There once was a father with two sons,” and most of us would be able to provide a sketch of the narrative. Ask someone to describe God, and many would offer the father in this parable as example number one: he runs to meet us when we are still far off! Countless preachers have mounted the pulpit and parsed it word for word, perhaps to a fault. Peter Gomes, former chaplain of Harvard, created a four-month sermon series on the Prodigal. After the sixteenth homily on this single text, a woman greeted the pastor at the door of the church, exhausted. “Lordy,” she said, “I am sorry that that poor boy ever ran away from home, but even more sorry that you ever heard about it!” And yet, there always seems to be more to learn, more to say, more to hear in this mythic story. We try on the various roles in the parable—angry older sibling, forgiving parent, selfish younger son—and find ourselves through its retelling.
The drama is the third in a series that Jesus tells after the scribes and the Pharisees have complained about him hanging out with sinners: about a shepherd who left ninety-nine sheep to fend for themselves while he went after one stray, about a woman who turned her house upside down in order to find one lost coin, about a compassionate father who dealt graciously with both of his sons, despite their significant differences. All three stories address the Pharisee’s concern that Jesus seems to condone sin by the company he keeps, and all three reply that “God is too busy rejoicing over found sheep, found coins, and found children to worry about what they did while they were lost.” (Barbara Brown Taylor)
If you are familiar with the service in the prayer book called Reconciliation of a Penitent, you will know that the parable and this service end with the same words: “Now there is rejoicing in heaven; for you were lost, and are found; you were dead, and now are alive in Christ Jesus our Lord. Go in peace. The Lord has put away all of your sins.” (BCP, p.451) But leading up to this final scene are significant differences between our rather narrow sensibilities and the openness of the gospel. According to the parable, no confession is necessary, no promise expected of better behavior in the future, no apologies needed from those who have sinned against you. According to the parable, “you don’t even have to make it to church. The loving father, who sees you coming while you are still at a distance, will rush out to embrace you,” (Taylor) and forgive you before you can even get a word out of your mouth. And while this is good news for the prodigals within us and among us, it is likely to disturb that part of us that identifies with the older brother. What gives?
Does the father do the math on what his younger son has cost him? The prodigal wants his rights without responsibility, his freedom without relationship, his future without waiting or working toward it. His turning toward home seems motivated more by a calculation of benefit and a state of desperation than a heartfelt recognition of where he went wrong and how he has hurt others. And yet, despite a repentance that we might find faulty or incomplete, the father extravagantly forgives his son and showers him with gifts and loves. Where does this story do its work on you?
Most of us find our hearts pulled in one direction and our heads in another. And if this father is the way God is, that notion both pleases and offends us, depending on whether he is running towards us or our enemies. Most of us have a hard time believing that love can be so limitless and grace that free. Would it be if we were in charge?
How is Lent going for you, three weeks in? I haven’t been too successful with my fasting, and I’m behind in the reading I set out to do. But God has run toward me more times than I can count on Zoom, of all places… Through three extraordinary sermons by my colleagues—listen to them on Redeemer’s blog when your week is dark and you need some light… through the vulnerability offered in Wednesday’s Bible study—it is never too late to join the dialogue… through some difficult truth-telling with my colleagues in BUILD—reach out if you’d like to practice the struggle and grace of difficult conversations… through VOICES focus on our environment—recordings are here (C-Change Conversation, passcode: rq14bms) and here (Blue Water Baltimore, passcode: 4xR##$ym).
When you get a minute, re-read the story of the two sons, Luke 15:11-32. Picture it like a movie in your mind. Take the part of each character by turn. And see how the work of reconciliation reaches out to take your hand.
Love,
David