Fourth Sunday Lent : Refections on the Prodigal Son

 3/27

Good Shepherd Faith

It's a cold March morning, Adjusting to the temperature after a few days in Florida. Preaching live and in person at Good Shepherd Faith. Today a mainly Korean congregation. Here's what I had to say:

Okay.  The equinox is past and we are officially into spring. The days are getting longer and the weather is getting warmer. And baseball is back and my much delayed annual trip to Florida happened. It’s that season when anything seems possible, even for Pirate fans. The city has  ended the vaccination mandate. And tonight is the Academy Awards.

But underneath it all, there is that nagging awareness that won’t go away that across the world, a war is going on. A  nation that was not threatening any other country has been invaded and bombs are falling on houses, schools, theaters and even maternity wards and innocent people are dying daily and we know this. Even as we are inspired by courageous resistance, there is an almost helpless feeling as we watch the daily reports and feel like there’s nothing you and I can do except maybe support humanitarian relief efforts. 

And dare I say it, for the first time decades, we worry again about the possibility of nuclear war. Those are the worst kind of worries…ones where you have no agency in the outcome.

And this is the context, this 4th Sunday in Lent, when my job s to try and find a new angle on a very familiar story …Jesus’ parable of the prodigal son. 

Told in response to the scribes and Pharisees grumbling about the kind of people Jesus hung out with, its contours are all familiar to us. A headstrong young man demands his inheritance, goes far away, squanders all his money in dissolute living, winds up feeding hogs, those despised unclean animals, decides to go home and finds his father waiting with open arms, ready to celebrate.  And a grumbling older brother. 

We all know the standard interpretation…we need to “come to ourselves,”  get real about our shortcomings, ask God for forgiveness. Repent and be forgiven. Turn around and be ready to live in a new way. And God is always ready to forgive us. 

It’s the overriding theme of this whole season of Lent. 

There have been efforts to deepen our understanding by focusing on characters other than the son. The father, for example, has to look past that his son's actions were equivalent to  wishing him dead. (Ironcially, it’s the son who later will become as dead.)  The father sees the son while he is still far off, meaning he had to be out there looking, looking, waiting for the son’s return, believing he would come back. And he runs to greet him. Leaving aside  all dignity and runs. And this is a metaphor for how God is out there looking for us.

And we have looked at the older brother. The apparent bad guy of the story, at least as our spoil sport. Until we stop and think about. Sympathize with his position.  He has stayed, been responsible and done the right thing. Taken care of his father’s business.  And never received a word of thanks. Or felt appreciated. His feelings are hurt.  He needs to be reminded that his father is “always with him.” That all that his father has is his.  And that this son of his fathers in truth, his brother.  And that it is our job to be compassionate and see the reason to rejoice. 

Okay. Not sure what new I can add to these understandings. But here’s my idea.  What if we pause and reflect on each character of the story? Pause and think about what each thinks and feels and imagine  ourselves in the place of these characters? (Which is actually the way to read any parable.)

Lent calls us to see ourselves as the son.  But can we also see ourselves as the father? Ready to extend forgiveness? Can we see ourselves as then older bother? In fact in any church, there are a lot of elder brothers, we who are responsible, who  strive to do the right thing. Who watch others reap the benefits. And perhaps if we step outside the parable and see ourselves as the scribes and pharisees who inspire the parable. Though I’d say for Jesus, these scribes and pharisees are the elder brothers.

We see this usually in terms of our personal individual lives. Maybe sometimes we can extend our understanding to our church community. But there is something broader at stake. 

Our Presbytery is currently seeking to deal with its own reality of systemic racism.  It is complicated. Deep rooted. Our denomination has yet to acknowledge that a significant part of our church provided theological support for chattel slavery and broke  off because of that belief. 

Our nation has yet to face fully the truth of the genocide of our indigenous people or the ongoing legacy of chattel slavery. We’re caught between land acknowledgements in theaters  and new laws against critical race theory or books or teaching that might "upset" anyone.

We have learned historically from South Africa that only when history is squarely faced and openly talked about can there be reconciliation.

Country blues singer Robert Timothy Wilkins in the 1930's ended his version of the Prodigal Son (later covered by the Rolling Stones)  like this:

Well, father said, "Eldest son, kill the fatted calf"

"Call the family round"

"Kill that calf and call the family round"

"My son was lost, but now he is found"

"'Cause that's the way for us to get along”

                                                             Prodigal Son

Yes. That’s the way to get along. The only way to get along. We need to be about the business of truth and reconciliation. 

I believe that this war will end.  We will need to find a way to get along, even as  this divided nation we live in needs to figure out a way to get along.  Those moving images from Ukraine…of then people who captured a Russian soldier giving  him food and hot tea and offering him a phone to call home to  his parents…those images point the way,

Let those words stay with you…

"My son was lost, but now he is found"

"'Cause that's the way for us to get along”

Let those with ears to hear, hear.

Amen.

1Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. 2And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them."

3So he told them this parable:

11b"There was a man who had two sons. 12The 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. 13A 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. 14When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. 15So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. 16He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. 17But 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! 18I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; 19I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands."' 20So 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. 21Then the son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.' 22But 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. 23And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; 24for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!' And they began to celebrate.

25"Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. 26He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. 27He replied, 'Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.' 28Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. 29But 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. 30But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!' 31Then the father said to him, 'Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. 32But 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.'"

The fourth Sunday in Lent: Love that will not let go

3/10

The doors are open. Everything is ready. Took the red eye back from Phoenix arriving at dawn. Cara there to welcome me home. Stephen too.

There are two visitors. A young man, Ray. And an older woman with a bouquet  of flowers who leaves halfway through. Not what she expected. It’s often not what you expect, but if you stick around, something worth your while will happen. 

Today is a familiar story. the one we call the parable of the prodigal son. (Luke 15;1-3, 11b-32 Is there a better title? Someone has said it has been covered from every angle except the  abandoned swine..Who are  the characters? The father, the older son, the prodigal...What are their emotions? Did their youngest son really wish his father  dead? I don’t really think so. Was the older brother about envy?

When she hears how the son had sunk to the lowest job, tending the treif, the unclean animals pigs, hungry enough to want to  to eat their food, she asks, so the youngest son hit bottom?

This is the third in Jesus’  series of lost parables....the sheep, the coin....and now a son. Barbara Lundblad wants us to ask, Where was mom? Aliou Niang, of Union, thinking of his own village in West Africa asks, and what of the community? How were they affected by this series of events?

We agree that the we’re OK in the story  until the party...Why? It’s too much. Welcoming back is one thing. But a party? with the whole village attending? No amends, just a party?

Can we scribes and pharisees be  the older son? In the context of the parable the way Luke tells us, yes. But only if they are us, too. We who are responsible. We who work hard. We who take care of things, keep them going. And since the younger son already took his share, everything the father has is the elder son’s. The father is using what belong to the elder to fete the younger. But even so, we older ones still belong to the father. 

The son had become a nobody: with no home, no place, no future, no food... Another question, raised by Aliou, How did older son know how money had been spent? Is that what he would have done? And I wonder, what are things like a year from now? is the younger son still there? What if he takes off again.

Who are we in this parable?  As in every parable, we are all the characters. We have to experience all of them. 

Just notice , the Father  sees the son from far off, he is is watching and waiting...

I recall the memorial service for one of our original African American members, Ethel. She was one of the circle of live-in domestics who came to worship at West-Park, tired of having to travel to Harlem on Sunday mornings. They integrated West-Park. She ended her days in a public housing project a few blocks up the street. 

During the reflections part of the service. A middle aged man, well dressed in an off white coat, stood up, and tears in his eyes said, I am here because she never gave up on me. She never stopped loving me. I wasn’t even her child, just a kid in the projects. I stole her money. Stole her TV. Stole her toaster. But she never gave up on me. I finally had no choice but to become who I was supposed to be. She never gave up. Her love wouldn’t let me go...

And that is what this is about. Love that will not let go. That doesn’t give up. That is always there. Watching. Waiting....

We sing Amazing grace. But given what we’ve learned about people first, about using the situations of people who are part of our communities as metaphors for spiritual failings, we change the words...

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound

that saved a soul (no wretches here) like me

I once was lost and now am found

Thy love has set me free. 

And in our Spanish version, tu luz me rescato....

Ray stays awhile, wanting to talk about our service.  And the reflection.

The session gathers. Much to talk about as always. And Anna has given us much to think about. Vulnerable people. Those who may not respect vulnerability. Who might take advantage. 

I am tired. Cara is sweeping away as I leave.