4th Sunday of Lent 2007
4th Sunday of Lent – 2007
The Scribes and Pharisees criticized Jesus, because he ate with sinners.
And so Jesus told them a story. A story that we hear dependent on our point of view.
Many look at it from the point of view of the youngest son – the prodigal
- the one who wasted his inheritance in a foreign land and ended up going from bad to worse until he comes to his senses and flees homeward, hoping that there he can put his life together again – even if it must be as a servant.
Others of us identify with the father in the story – especially those of us who happen to be parents of children who have gone, or may yet go, wrong in some way.
Think of the father in today’s gospel for a minute. Think of his pain.
His youngest child – his youngest son has turned out badly.
We don’t know why the father gave in to the demands of his youngest son. Parents know that children are different. It is impossible to treat children the same, and that makes child-rearing the most complex of all human tasks. A scientist that I know once said that there are three unknowable mysteries: the origin of the universe, whether the universe is expanding or contracting, and how to raise a teenager.
Perhaps the father gave in because he figured if he did not his son would only get worse. Maybe he just didn’t know what else to do.
Whatever the reason – many of us can identify with the pain that the father must have felt; the second guessing – the constant worry -and the constant wondering…
- Will my boy make it? – Will he survive? – Will he ever come home?
Those who identify with the father understand what happens at the end of story. They understand why the father, upon seeing in the distance his son returning home, lifts his robes and runs to meet him.
But what about the other son in the story? What about the oldest brother?
How many of us, identify with him?
How many of you are the oldest child in your family?
How many first-born do we have? Would you raise your hand?
Now, how many of you were the baby in your family?
Would you raise your hands?
Now, for those in the first group – How many of you felt like those in the second group got away with things you could never have gotten away with?
I’m an only child, so I don’t know, but the older brother seems like the good guy in the story.
The older brother is like a lot of us.
He gets up and goes to work every day. He has to. It is expected. If not him, who? We can understand his feelings for his brother.
First, he asked for his inheritance early, while his father was still alive.
That was selfish and an insult. It was the same as wishing his father dead.
I think we can imagine the conversation he must have had with himself…
And then he squanders it all. He never was responsible. He took it and went away and just wasted it. All the money that it had taken our family generations to accumulate. He spent it on sin and high living. It served him right that he wound up feeding somebody’s pigs. He deserved it.
But then he came home. And of course, my father throws a party. Nobody ever threw a party for me. Nobody ever appreciated that I stuck around and did what I was supposed to do. I didn’t waste Dad’s money. I worked hard in the fields every day. And my father barely acknowledges me!
And who do you think will be the one responsible enough to take care of our father when he grows old? My brother? No. It will be me. Because I am the responsible one around here.
Yes, father, little brother can come home – but don’t throw a party!
Make him grovel a little.
He asked to be a servant. Let him do that for a while.
He doesn’t deserve to wear your fine robes. –Sound familiar?
It should – because the older brother is that responsible part in all of us who doesn’t like it when somebody else gets something for nothing.
The older brother is that part of us that measures and weighs every deed for its value – every person for what they have earned or deserve – and has decided that by comparison we aren’t getting what we deserve – or that someone else is getting more than they deserve.
The tax collectors and sinners with whom Jesus ate are not simply good folk who have been misunderstood. They were making a good living taking money from their own people on behalf of the Romans.
The Pharisees and other guardians of law and order could see the corrosive effect of not distinguishing between good and evil people.
As we think about it – doesn’t forgiving look a lot like condoning?
To Jesus’ listeners 2000 years ago, and perhaps to us today, the party is what is really offensive in the story.
Let the penitent return, there’s nothing wrong with that. Both Judaism and Christianity allow for that. But let him return to bread and water – not fatted calf; to sackcloth and ashes – not to expensive robes….
Those to whom Jesus told the story of the prodigal family were responsible people. They followed the letter of the law. They did what they were supposed to do. And what did they see in Jesus?
They saw a man whom they recognized as a holy man -
a man whom many said was the Messiah,
one whom some said was the Son of God,
welcoming sinners and eating with them. Showing them the honor of his presence. Telling them that God loved them.
The Pharisees didn’t like that. Because those sinners hadn’t toed the line.
Yes, let them come in. But make them grovel a little.
The Pharisees, in all their super-responsibility were missing the party. They weren’t getting the message. They couldn’t hear that God had enough love for them too.
So… who are we in this story?
Are we the older son, jealous that someone else is receiving God’s love?
Are we the younger son, afraid to come home and accept God’s love?
Are we the Pharisee, so aware of what we have done and what others have failed to do that we can’t enjoy the party? That we may even resent God for being loving and forgiving?
The youngest Son learned an important lesson while starving in a foreign land. He learned that his father was a life giver.
That is something that we all need to learn.
What our real priorities are in life.
Where life is to be found – and how good that life really is.
In life; it can feel that love is finite. That our parents, our wives or husbands, or children, simply don’t have enough love to go around.
In this: We are all the Prodigal We are all the Pharisee
In the story that Jesus told to those who resented his eating with sinners, in the story he tells to that oldest brother that lives inside our hearts he says:
“My child, you are always with me. Indeed all that I have is yours – understand that – and rejoice with me that your younger brother – he who was dead, is alive – he was lost – but now is found.”
The love of God is not a quantity; an amount that can become depleted and so must be guarded. It is the only absolute constant we have.
We need not guard it,
nor measure it,
we have only to embrace and accept it.
