God's Story and Our Story - 3-27-22
God’s Story and Our Story
2 Cor 5:16-21; Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
2 Cor 5:16-21
From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way. So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” So he told them this parable: “There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’ So he divided his property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. But when he came to himself he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”’ So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate. “Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.’ Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’ Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’”
Prayer – Eternal lover of our wayward race, we are grateful for your ever-open door. You open your arms to accept us even before we turn to meet your welcome; you invite us to forgiveness even before our hearts are softened to grace. That is your story, O God, and that is our story – together they tell the story of your abundant and never-ending love – a gift for us every day – amen.
There was a family in NC who had two children – the oldest by several years, a son, and then the younger daughter. The family was a good family, well thought of in the community, responsible, good, God-loving Christian folks. The children seemed to be involved in school, after-school activities like sports and ballet, church and art classes. The father was a realtor and the mother a school teacher – respected in the community in which they lived. Shortly after the son went off to college, the younger daughter began to act out – that is she liked to party with some older kids – drinking, smoking pot, popping pills, sex whenever she felt like – it all began around the time she was 14. The older son was going to class, studying for the most part, making good grades, worked to help with the costs of his college education. Meanwhile, the younger daughter was footloose and fancy free.
The older son came home from college for a break and one night heard his younger sister come in – late, after curfew, stumbling and laughing – clearly drunk or stoned. The older brother went downstairs and found his younger sister going to the bathroom in the bread drawer in the kitchen. He was horrified and sent her off to bed, hoping his parents didn’t hear anything. He cleaned up her mess and never said a word. Back to college he went, concerned yet hoping his sister would make some better decisions after he had lectured her on her responsibilities as a ‘good daughter.’
The older son would come home periodically and listen as his parents talked about the craziness of his younger sister. Inside, he seethed because he was ‘the good kid who never partied, was always home on time’ but who was also grounded for a “C” or for smart talk to his mother while his parents seemed to be letting his sister do what she wanted without any consequences. To him, it seemed that they were afraid she would leave, or run away, or be lost to them forever. To him, it just wasn’t fair.
The younger daughter turned 16 and the parents bought her a used car, just as they had done for the older son. Within two months she had wrecked it driving home from partying with friends. They replaced the car with another one, four months later, she totaled it as well, drinking and driving seemed to be her specialty. One day, the father came home from work early, surprising the daughter who had cut school – she was in bed with her boyfriend – mom and dad’s bed. Enough was enough, the parent’s told the daughter that if she couldn’t abide by the family rules, which she had not been doing, then she would have to leave. Tough love they thought and I suppose it was, but to the older son, it looked like ‘well it is about time she was held accountable.’
The younger daughter moved out and lived with friends and eventually graduated from high school. She wanted to go to college – the Art Institute of Atlanta – and she asked the parents to pay. They agreed to help her with college and she took off to Atlanta. Within a few weeks of starting school she disappeared, no contact with her parents. Frantic phone calls to her room and her roommate said she hadn’t seen her for weeks. Several months went by without a word. Anxiety and despair were the constant feelings of the parents – not knowing, not understanding, not . . .
Right before Thanksgiving – a phone call – can we come home? “We” the parents wondered – “yes, my husband, Jay and I want to come home. We have been in Florida, but well, we don’t have any money so can we come home.” Sure, come on, the parents said. A few weeks later, the prodigal daughter and her husband showed up. The older son was home for the holiday and nearly laughed when the long-haired, bearded, clearly stoned brother-in-law walked through the door with the equally stoned younger sister. The Thanksgiving feast had been prepared and the festivities were on-going, the younger daughter, who was lost and feared dead was home again, with a Jesus looking stoner. The older brother didn’t understand why prodigal love was being poured out on the prodigal daughter – he had been dutiful, responsible, clean and sober – what had that gotten him he wondered – not much. It just didn’t seem right, fair, just. What had gotten into his parents – welcoming these two druggies into a house where drug use was clearly outside the bounds of behavior? How in the world could they welcome home this reprobate daughter with her ‘messed up’ husband when he had always done right? What had gotten into his parents?
I wonder if you know the actors in this parable – does this in some way sound like your story or the story of someone you know or grew up with. The truth is, this is my prodigal story – the story of my prodigal sister and prodigal parents and I hate to say it, me, the prodigal older brother.
The beauty of a really good parable is that it meets generations of listeners wherever they are: in first century Palestine, in fourth century Rome, in sixteenth century Geneva, and in twenty-first century Mansfield, TX. Everyone has a dysfunctional family. Everyone has at least thought about running away from home. And whether or not you happen to have a sibling or not, everyone knows what a pain a sibling can be – especially when there are only two of you, so that the ‘good child/bad child’ thing hovers over you no matter which one you happen to be at the time. For those reasons and more, the parable of the prodigal son stays young no matter how old it is, giving all kinds of people all kinds of ways to make the story their own.
In twenty-first century Mansfield, there is nothing remarkable about a young man or woman deciding to leave home to go and seek his or her fortune in the world. This is so American that it’s hard to imagine this boy or girl not being from north Texas. Most parents today strive to get their children out on their own, not keeping them at home forever. As Presbyterian’s we have all heard the notion of the Protestant work ethic, work yourself up the ladder, pull yourself up by the bootstraps when things get difficult – an individualistic approach to maturity we believe.
But in our story this morning, in God’s story this morning, we hear a different tale. We hear a tale that most likely resonates with all of us – each of us have felt like the younger son, or sister in my case – eager to get away, making choices that have difficult consequences, willing to do almost anything to get back to our old lives; we have all felt like the older brother as well – hardworking, diligent, and sometimes resentful at the undeserved gain or unpunished wastefulness of another; and perhaps we all have felt like the father in this story – desperate for any sign of a long-missed loved one, overjoyed by his or her unexpected return. In our story this morning we hear of a typical family, a dysfunctional family, but one that struggles with identity, and making one’s way in the world, and the incredible power of love and mercy.
Our parable this morning invites us into God’s story and into our story. Our parable this morning leaves two themes in tension. On the one hand, Jesus illustrates the love of God that is beyond human love as commonly understood and practiced, for no typical father would act as this father does in the story. On the other hand, Jesus addresses the parable against his critics, vindicating his message and ministry, by which he hung out with the ‘never do well’s’. His critics are illustrated by the elder brother who is standing outside, still in need of shower, arms crossed, the moral high road, who cannot even bring himself to acknowledge his brother by name – “this son of yours came back.” Like the older brother, we want justice, we want fairness, we are not terribly interested in welcoming mercy for one whom we have judged has made countless bad choices.
So where are we at the parable’s end? If this parable is both God’s story and our story – are we inside the party celebrating? Or are we standing outside with our arms folded, refusing to come in? We don’t know how God’s story and how our story ends this morning even though the father passionately invites the older son, in fact ‘pleads with him’ to come inside and join the welcomed – we don’t know what the older brother did. The story ends, but it doesn’t, and that is perhaps a lot like God’s story and our story. Will we RSVP to a party thrown by an unfair and merciful God? Or will we remain stubbornly outside? In a world where God does not judge with fairness or by what we see as right and wrong, this parable forces us to make a choice about whether we want a God of justice or a God of mercy. Who is the prodigal, the recklessly extravagant one in this parable? Who is the real waster in this parable? And which one is you, which one is me?
It would perhaps be easy for me to answer those questions as part of the sermon this morning. We prefer closure in our stories and in our sermons. But this story leaves us with lots of questions – it is deliberately open-ended. So instead of giving answers, perhaps we can think about this crazy family in relation to our crazy lives, all in light of God’s crazy love for all of us – that is what makes it God’s story and our story as well – thanks be to God – amen.