March 18, 2007

San Williams, Presenter

2 Cor. 5:16-21; Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

"The Parable of the Loving Father"

I wouldn't blame you if you're thinking, "Here we go again. Another sermon on the Prodigal Son."  It's like the preacher who dreamed he was preaching—and when he woke up, he was.  This parable of the errant son is so old and so familiar that it’s like that joke you've heard a thousand times, or that forwarded e-mail that lands your box for the hundredth time. Yeah, yeah, the son squanders his inheritance in a far-off land. This is surely one of the most oft- repeated stories in the Bible. But as Clarence Jordan, who wrote The Cotton Patch Gospel, reminds us, a parable is like a Trojan Horse; it looks harmless, you let it in, and then—Bam!  It's got you.  How might this familiar parable “get” us this morning?  I can tell you how it got me:  I was taken in by the astonishing, effusive love of this Father toward his two sons.

I know we usually call this parable the Parable of the Prodigal Son, but perhaps it would be more accurate to know it as the Parable of the Loving Father.  After all, the parable begins, "There was a man who had two sons."  The central character in Jesus' parable is this man, this Father, whom Jesus presents as analogous to God, yet for some reason, we tend to identify this parable, along with the other two parables in this chapter of Luke's Gospel, by the negative rather than positive features. We know the first parable mentioned in this chapter of Luke's Gospel as The Parable of the Lost Sheep. Why not the Parable of the Found Sheep? And the second parable we call the Parable of the Lost Coin, rather than that of the found coin. Likewise, we focus in the parable read today on the prodigal son rather than the loving father. Maybe it's easier for us to identify with the problem presented in these parables than with the Gospel these parables are intended to proclaim. Note that each of these three parables ends with rejoicing, with good news—the coin is recovered, the lost sheep is found, the prodigal returns home. So here at the outset, let's put the intended message front and center. The parable we read this morning is first and foremost the story of a Father who had two sons, and who loved them both. In short, this is a parable of love and forgiveness and joy.

Now if we're going to appreciate the bewilderment that this parable must have had on Jesus' first listeners, we need to recall the patriarchal customs that governed the behavior of fathers and their heirs in those days. In the society of Jesus' time, a father was representative of the law. The father's role was to protect both the honor of the family and the family's inheritance. Fathers in that society divided their inheritance according to an accepted legal code that was maintained by strict rules. One of the rules was that the inheritance might be dispersed to the sons before the father's death in order for the sons to use a portion of the inheritance to care for their parents in their old age. Remember that there were no pension plans or long-term care insurance available, so the welfare of the elderly depended entirely upon their heirs handling the inheritance responsibly, in a way that bestowed honor on the family. 

So the story begins with the outrageous conduct of the younger son, who demands his inheritance ahead of schedule and then, having received it, squanders it in complete disregard for his father.  Everything about the younger son's conduct would be abhorrent to Jesus' listeners, and exceedingly offensive to a father of that day. To eat swine was to become as a Gentile and to put oneself outside the covenant.  The pods referred to were the long pods of the carob tree, eaten by animals and, at times, by the extremely poor. Without question, the younger son's profligate behavior was as dishonorable and despicable to a Father of that day as can be imagined.

And the behavior of the older son also dishonored the Father. True, this son is dutiful and obedient. Yet he is so resentful of the way his father celebrates his brother's return that he questions his father's judgment.  In fact, he berates his father for the injustice, the basic unfairness he perceives in his father's behavior. In doing so, this son breaks the fourth commandment, which is to honor father and mother. Certainly, when modern readers consider this story, we see that the older brother had every reason to be angry. After all, the fact that his brother had completely dissipated his share of the inheritance through reckless living meant that now all the responsibility for caring for his father would have to come out of the older brother’s inheritance. This older, dutiful brother knows that he is right to be offended—and so he rebukes his father, and separates himself from both his father and his brother. The truth is, in this story, both sons fail.

But in spite of their behavior, the father lavishes love on both of his sons. The father in Jesus' parable simply doesn't act like a father in the society of his day.  Surely Jesus' description of this father left his listeners' mouths agape with astonishment.  No honorable father would run out to meet a son who had dishonored him. He would let the son come crawling back while the father held his ground, arms crossed and brow furrowed in disapproval.  A good father of that day might have allowed the younger son to return home, but Judaism—like Christianity—has clear provisions for the restoration of the penitent returnee. As the noted preacher Fred Craddock once wrote, "Where does it say that such provisions include a banquet with music and dancing? Yes, let the prodigal return, but to bread and water, not the fatted calf; in sackcloth, not a new robe; wearing ashes, not a new ring; in tears, not merriment; kneeling, not dancing."  Yet the father in the parable throws aside all protocol, disregards the honor due him, and runs to embrace his son, showering him with unrestrained joy. 

More than one person has observed that this man, in acting like a bad father of his day, acts like a very good mother. In his famous painting of this parable, Rembrandt recognized the maternal quality in the father's love, and represented it by painting the father's hand embracing the son as a mother's hand would. Clearly this father embodies the qualities of both mother and father. This parable gives us the most vivid portrayal in all scripture of the God Jesus knew and called abba, a God of ready forgiveness and all-consuming love. 

And notice that the father's effusive shower of grace for the younger son doesn't lessen his love for the obedient son.  Instead of rejecting the elder son for his disrespect, the father affirms, "You are always with me. Everything I have is yours." This man refuses to choose between his children.  He loves them both, and he forgives them both.

 In fact, the whole point of the Father's love is to reconcile these two sons. The father's primary concern is to unite his two sons, bringing them together in love. Both are guilty of serious failing and he wants to forgive them both so that they, in turn, may show mercy to each other. After all, as popular preacher and lecturer, Barbara Brown Taylor notes, these two brothers need each other, and each has something the other sorely needs.  "If the younger son is going to survive, he badly needs some of his older brother's disciple and devotion. If the older son is going to survive, he badly needs some of his younger brother's brokenness and humility."  This parable of the loving Father, you see, is a parable about God's love for humanity, and God's great yearning to reconcile the human family. This is the ministry of reconciliation that Jesus embodied.  It explains why he welcomed, and ate with, the sinners and the tax collectors.

Friends, this parable also explains why, in the church, we set a table and do our best to make everyone feel welcome. As Paul declares in our reading this morning from second Corinthians, God has entrusted the message of reconciliation to us...and makes his appeal for reconciliation through us."  Whether you are a younger brother type or an older brother type, God welcomes you the Table of forgiveness and communion.  So come sinners of every kind, and together let us rejoice in our heavenly Father's unconditional love—and celebrate!