 Readings: Luke 15:1-2, 11-32, Secrets of Heaven #8393 (see below)
See also on Youtube Photo credit: Dzenina Lukac Our gospel text today is probably the most famous and beloved parable in the New Testament. Perhaps only “The Good Samaritan” can rival it in familiarity. Given its prominence, is there anything new that we could hear about it? Well, we could start by talking about its name: The Prodigal Son. Prodigal is not a word that we use very much everyday. It means a reckless extravagance, and the prodigal nature of the younger son does drive the narrative in the beginning of the parable. But, while that son’s story is important, the father and the elder Son are equally important to the parable. So, other title suggestions that I have come across include: (slightly tongue in cheek) The Lament of the Responsible Older Child (1), or The Prodigal Son, the Waiting Father and the Elder Brother(2). But I think that my favorite overall has to be simply “The Lost Sons and the Welcoming Father.”(3) This title lifts up each of the characters equally. We understand that each son is lost in their own way. We see that the father is living a welcoming way of life. It represents the complexity of relationships and shows that there isn’t one narrative that is better than another, recognizing the shifting points of view. So, why is it that we are assigned this text in Lent? On the surface it may seem obvious. In Lent, we focus on reflection and repentance, and within this story there is a fairly boilerplate picture of repentance. The younger son makes a bad decision, a disrespectful one even. To ask for his inheritance early is a slight to his father, essentially asking if he can act as if the father is already dead. One might forgive this faux pas if the son went ahead and made a good life for himself but he doesn’t — he completely squanders his inheritance. Again, he is oblivious and selfish; his inheritance represents many years of livelihood and work on the part of his father. But then, the son experiences an epiphany, a change of heart and mind. He recognizes how and why his behavior was bad and he regrets his path and choices. Now, sometimes we mistakenly think about repentance as just being sorry and this son certainly was sorry. But he also takes steps to make things right. Not entirely unselfishly we might note, he was starving after all, but in returning, he seeks to return in a way that is in keeping with his new understanding of his behavior. In his case, in recognition of the inheritance he squandered, he offers to return as a servant. This is a fairly complete version of repentance: questionable actions, followed by a change of heart and mind, an attempt to heal harm and mend relationship, and a desire to move forward in a different way. The father is a picture of waiting, welcoming, and loving. Who is not moved by the joy with which the father welcomes his son home? It is the essence of what we all hope for, to be loved so unconditionally. But within the joy, there is un undercurrent of subversion; we recognize that the father is not “playing by the rules.” The rules would say that the younger son really does deserve to be treated as a servant. That his decisions have led to consequences, and those consequences must be borne, specifically in terms of diminished status. The son, recognizing those rules, had given up the hope of being known as a son anymore, of being beloved. The most he expected was to be tolerated. And yet, the father doesn’t even listen to what the son now thinks he deserves, and restores his position in the family. We can imagine the surprise and gratitude from the younger son, someone so recently degraded and hopeless. But as beautiful as this all is, the story is not over yet. As helpful as it is to see repentance and forgiveness represented in this way, I believe that the elder son is also a picture that we need: a picture of someone still in process, of someone grappling with what the expansiveness of the kingdom looks like. The elder son was clearly suffering in his own way. He was working hard, head down, obedient, in his own words “slaving away” because, well, isn’t that how we become good and worthy and successful? When his brother returns to such a welcome he is resentful, bitter. Who wouldn’t be in such a situation? His complaints are understandable. We feel the depth of his hurt and consternation. How embarrassing to find out about the party from a servant! He might wonder: “Why am I working so hard if I could have just goofed off and come home and still be welcomed? What about the rules? There must be consequences or everything falls apart.” He feels that the welcome his brother has received means that nothing he himself does matters. While the father may not break into a run this second time, he comes out of the house to *this* son with just as much love. He tells him,“I am always with you and everything I have is yours.” We sense that perhaps the elder son does not, cannot, believe him. And now the parable turns on the elder son’s decision. To quote theologian Frederick Borsch “What had been a life-and-death situation for the younger brother has now become one for [the elder brother]—complicated by the awareness that he now must in a sense die to the self-image of one who has earned a special relationship with the father, in order to live in the relationship that is always there for him.”(4) This picture of necessary repentance is much more nuanced because perhaps we can convince ourselves that the elder brother has nothing to repent for, and yet, he hesitates to enter the party. He will not enter into joy. As we contemplate the elder son’s decision, let us not forget the framework of this parable. At the beginning of the chapter, Jesus was eating with “tax collectors and sinners” and the Pharisees were muttering about it. “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them,” they said. Then Jesus tells two smaller parables, one about a shepherd who has a hundred sheep and loses one of them, who searches until he finds it and rejoices when he does, calling his friends and neighbors to celebrate with him. The second is about a woman with ten silver coins, who upon one again searches carefully until she finds it, calling her friends and rejoicing when she does. The context is very clear. God feels deeply the loss of connection with people, and will continue to search until that connection is restored. The fact of the loss of connection, of the “sin” that caused it, does not dissuade God from searching in the least, not for a moment. God loves fully, always. Moreover, in each case, God calls everyone to celebrate when the lost are found. For the shepherd, the woman with the coins, the welcoming father; their joy could not be contained. So in his context, by offering this parable when he did, Jesus was challenging the idea of a spiritual meritocracy: that we can somehow earn status with God. There is a comic strip meme that I have seen that depicts someone saying, “I wish I were worthy of love.” A genie shows up and says “Poof! It is done!” The person looks themselves over and says, “Nothing’s changed.” To which the genie says, “Correct.” There was nothing about the soul of the younger son that needed to be changed. Even in the depths of his failure, the younger son was worthy of love, a love unremittingly given by the waiting father, even in the son’s absence. What the son’s decisions did do was prevent him being able to be in relationship with his family, first through his selfishness and then his pride. What repentance did was, not make him worthy, but made him able to re-engage. Allowed him to show up to the relationship with new eyes, to recognize the harm he had done, to appreciate and appropriately steward that relationship anew. It doesn’t matter whether or not the father demanded that the son serve, but rather that the son was willing to. We see this reflected in our Swedenborg reading for today, that repentance is not about what we say, but rather what we do, how we change our life. Even in the depths of his bitterness, the elder son is worthy of love as well. “Everything I have is yours,” says the father. That was never in doubt. The question is whether that older son can really believe that, despite the threat to his way of thinking that his brother’s return creates. His father was simply throwing a party for the younger son, making space, healing relationship. But this was interpreted by the elder son as a usurpation. The elders son’s subsequent decision, to dwell in his bitterness and fear, prevents *him* now from connecting with his family, makes *him* the one who is lost. Sometimes when we contemplate grace, God doesn’t seem fair. When we evaluate the kingdom by the world’s rules, we get resentful. In the mathematics of self-preservation, grace is ridiculous. Intent plus effort equals reward, or at least we think it should when it works for us. There is no room for grace in such an equation, no room for the complexity of privilege and systemic injustice, no room for the possibility of personal transformation over time, no room for growth and change. But just as Newtownian physics works on an earthly level but relativity reigns supreme in cosmic spaces, so too can the mathematics of striving only take us so far. God’s commitment to our ultimate well-being, and the utter expansiveness of divine love, demands a different kind of physics. It must. Yes of course, our intent and effort must be connected to our outcomes to a certain extent, or we linear human beings will be unable to find meaning in a cause and effect world, yet the moment this equation disconnects us from compassion, the moment we start to calculate what we think we deserve, the moment we demand that our diligence trumps another’s, we are outside the party. We are in hell and not in heaven. We are misunderstanding what God is about. One of my commentaries pointed out that, “The narrative tempts us to distance the brothers from each other, to choose which is more beloved.” (5) We should resist that temptation. As much as we might resonate with one or the other, in reality we are always both. I definitely relate more to the elder brother. Work hard, play by the rules, and yes, simmer with resentment when others don’t. But that doesn’t mean that I also don’t squander valuable things that I have been given. Or, if some of you resonate more with the younger son, that doesn’t mean that you won’t sometimes also feel resentment or bitterness around feeling left out, or try to earn merit for the good things you do. We will always have work to do on both fronts. But, we remember first and foremost that the father crosses the threshold twice (6). The first time to welcome the younger back home, the second time to invite the elder into the party. One crossing filled with joy and surprise, the other filled with pathos and pleading, but in both cases out of love. All of our experiences will be different, glory be. When the title is simply The Prodigal Son, we forget the fact that God crosses the threshold for all of us. God is always crossing the threshold. God crosses the threshold for the sinners that Jesus was eating with, and crosses the threshold for the pharisees too. Because, as much the word Prodigal can mean wasteful and reckless, but it can also mean an amazingly lavish abundance in a positive, creative sense, like the abundance of nature. So perhaps this parable can also be titled The Prodigal God…the bountiful, extravagant and generous God who is calling us home. Amen.
Readings: Luke 15:1-2, 11-32 1 Now the tax collectors and sinners were all gathering around to hear Jesus. 2 But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” 11 Jesus continued: “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them. 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. 14 After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16 He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything. 17 “When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18 I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ 20 So he got up and went to his father. “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. 21 “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22 “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. 23 Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate. 25 “Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27 ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’ 28 “The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’ 31 “ ‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ ” Secrets of Heaven #8393 Repentance present on the lips but not in one's life is not repentance. Lip repentance does not cause sins to be forgiven; only repentance in life can lead to this. Being Mercy itself, the Lord is constantly forgiving a person's sins; but sins cling to a person no matter how much they suppose them to have been forgiven. Nor are they removed from him except through a life in keeping with the commandments of faith. To the extent that their life is in keeping with them their sins are removed; and to the extent that their sins are removed they have been forgiven. For a person is withheld from evil by the Lord and maintained in good; for they can be withheld from evil in the next life to the extent that during their lifetime they were resisting evil, and they can be maintained in good then to the extent that during their lifetime they were doing good out of an affection for it. From all this one may see what the forgiveness of sins is and how it arises. Anyone who supposes that there is any other way in which sins are forgiven is much mistaken.
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