Familiarity
with a story can have two different effects. On the one hand, it
might lead us to “tune it out” because we think we know it
already. On the other hand, if it is told well, it may invite us to
“tune in” more deeply and cause us to become aware of aspects of
it we may have overlooked in the past.
The difference is both in the telling and in the hearing.
I have 3 nephews and a niece and as their favorite aunt, I've read and told a lot of bedtime stories. Often they are the ones they want to hear over and over. I quickly learned two things about these stories. One was that I needed to tell them well, with passion and care.
The other was that I needed to tell them roughly the same way every time. I couldn’t change any details, or even any words of the story. They were quick to correct me, and none too happy about having to do so, if I did change anything.
They don't mind hearing the story over and over again. But trying to change up the story, or reading it with anything less than passion, grace, and care did. And the contempt was not against the story, but against me!
Nor
did this familiarity breed boredom. Instead, it continued to open
their imaginations more and more each time.
So before offering commentary on the story itself, I want to encourage you to think of this familiar story with the open imagination of a child. Be careful, eager listeners like my niece and nephews. Put yourself fully into the story. Who do you relate to the most? Are you like the prodigal son who feels ready to take on the world, only to find the world has a way of fighting back that we aren't prepared for? Are you like the father, willing to show mercy? Or maybe you relate more to the son who stayed faithful and feels cheated when the father embraces his stupid brother? Wherever you see yourself in the story...and for me, it is a little of all three...I want you to hear it one more time, from Peterson's The Message:
Luke
15:1-3, 11-32: By
this time a lot of men and women of doubtful reputation were hanging
around Jesus, listening intently. The Pharisees and religion scholars
were not pleased, not at all pleased. They growled, “He takes in
sinners and eats meals with them, treating them like old friends.”
Their grumbling triggered this story. (after telling the parables of
the Lost Sheep and Lost Coin) Then
Jesus said, “There was once a man who had two sons. The younger
said to his father, ‘Father, I want right now what’s coming to
me.’
“So
the father divided the property between them. It wasn’t long before
the younger son packed his bags and left for a distant country.
There, undisciplined and dissipated, he wasted everything he had.
After he had gone through all his money, there was a bad famine all
through that country and he began to hurt. He signed on with a
citizen there who assigned him to his fields to slop the pigs. He was
so hungry he would have eaten the corncobs in the pig slop, but no
one would give him any.
“That
brought him to his senses. He said, ‘All those farmhands working
for my father sit down to three meals a day, and here I am starving
to death. I’m going back to my father. I’ll say to him, Father,
I’ve sinned against God, I’ve sinned before you; I don’t
deserve to be called your son. Take me on as a hired hand.’ He got
right up and went home to his father.
“When
he was still a long way off, his father saw him. His heart pounding,
he ran out, embraced him, and kissed him. The son started his speech:
‘Father, I’ve sinned against God, I’ve sinned before you; I
don’t deserve to be called your son ever again.’
“But
the father wasn’t listening. He was calling to the servants,
‘Quick. Bring a clean set of clothes and dress him. Put the family
ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Then get a grain-fed
heifer and roast it. We’re going to feast! We’re going to have a
wonderful time! My son is here—given up for dead and now alive!
Given up for lost and now found!’ And they began to have a
wonderful time.
“All
this time his older son was out in the field. When the day’s work
was done he came in. As he approached the house, he heard the music
and dancing. Calling over one of the houseboys, he asked what was
going on. He told him, ‘Your brother came home. Your father has
ordered a feast—barbecued beef!—because he has him home safe and
sound.’
“The
older brother stalked off in an angry sulk and refused to join in.
His father came out and tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t
listen. The son said, ‘Look how many years I’ve stayed here
serving you, never giving you one moment of grief, but have you ever
thrown a party for me and my friends? Then this son of yours who has
thrown away your money on whores shows up and you go all out with a
feast!’
“His
father said, ‘Son, you don’t understand. You’re with me all the
time, and everything that is mine is yours—but this is a wonderful
time, and we had to celebrate. This brother of yours was dead, and
he’s alive! He was lost, and he’s found!’”
And
that's the story. We don't know what happened next – one of my
sisters would invite the kids to use their imagination to tell what
happened to the two sons and their father. My niece would have them
in a castle riding out into the countryside on horses and finding
princesses to love. Her twin brother would probably add in some new
challenges like dragons or robots...or robot dragons! But Jesus
leaves the story right where it ends. And we find ourselves in the
three main characters.
The
older son is one we don't get to know very well in the story. We can
see clearly that he is loved by his father. He is a hard worker, he
is faithful, he does what he is supposed to do. And much like me, he
gets ticked off when he feels like he has been taken advantage of.
I'm sympathetic to him. He is the older brother, he stays behind to
take care of things, like a good responsible son. He went to work
every day...maybe he got the occasional postcard from his foolish
brother, “Having a great time. Living it up!” maybe sometimes his
younger brother would have even encouraged him to “Come join the
fun! Live it up with me! Why are you working so hard? Life is great
out here.” But then the famine came and work at home would have
been harder. And the good responsible son made sure that the hired
hands got paid and fed. He stayed and made sure his father's estate
continued to be prosperous. And one day he comes home from work and
finds his father throwing a party...and then he finds out it is for
his useless and unworthy brother. I think any of us would be at least
irritated. He is full-on angry. He stalks off, so that his father has
to chase him down. He doesn't want to hear it. He angrily asks his
father why his brother gets the party. “Look how many years I’ve
stayed here serving you, never giving you one moment of grief, but
have you ever thrown a party for me and my friends? Then this son of
yours who has thrown away your money on whores shows up and you go
all out with a feast!” What is up with that, Dad? Don't you see how
unfair that is?
I
relate to that. It is easy to look around with judgment and see how
much better I am than my worthless brother! Well...my biological
brother isn't that worthless. But I am guilty of feeling like the
older brother sometimes. For example – I work with Centenary's
after-school program on Thursday nights. We have as many as 45-50
neighborhood kids each week for Bible study, games, life skills
sessions (and pizza). I'm there every week. I'm the good child. And
then somebody comes and fills in for a regular volunteer and
everybody tells them how wonderful it is to have them and how
grateful we are they are helping out. Really? Shouldn't I get rings
on my fingers and a fatted calf then? They are just showing up now?
We've been doing this program for 25 years and NOW they come one
night and get all kinds of pats on the back? Sometimes I have that
same bad attitude that the elder son had...but I should have a
different approach. An approach like the father. I should be so happy
they've joined us now! I should make them feel loved and appreciated
so that they'll stick around! The elder son doesn't seem to take into
account that he's going to have more help with the return of his
brother. He hasn't taken the time to learn what this experience may
have done for his brother's attitude. He's just focusing on how hurt
he feels. I relate to that.
I
think the character in this story that I relate to the least is the
father. And since he seems to represent God in the parable, that
doesn't come as much of a surprise. “What does it take for us to
become full of prodigal mercy like this father?” It comes so hard
for us and so easy for God.
Perhaps
one of the reasons that I find it hard to relate is that I'm not a
parent. I can identify with the rebellious child...because THAT I've
been. Maybe I haven't squandered much on whores...but I've embraced
worldly living on many occasions. Sometimes it is just an attitude
thing “why do I work so hard to be good?” “I deserve to live it
up and forget about responsibilities.” Or sometimes it is treating
friends and family in a thoughtless way. Yep, it is easy to relate to
the one who turns from good and righteous living. But how do I find
ways to relate to the merciful father?
Let's
examine the ways he responds to his sons: #1 – He gives the younger
son a chance to try it his way. He didn't have any legal
responsibility to give him his part of the estate at that time. And
he probably knew it wasn't going to turn out well. But he does it
anyway. Without reservation. That must be a hard decision for a
parent. To give a child free will to make his or her own choices.
I
have a friend who is agnostic. He does not believe in God and does
not understand why an intelligent person like myself does believe.
For an unbeliever, he sure does ask a lot of questions. One of his
persistent questions is about why God doesn't just show himself and
clear up the mess that humans make in the world. He gets pretty
frustrated when I tell him that God wants us to CHOOSE to be in
relationship with him instead of being forced into relationship out
of divine fear. Sure...God could have created a bunch of beings to do
nothing but worship him...but how boring would that have become? He
gave us free will to choose to be in direct relationship. And yes, we
often want things that he knows are not likely to be good for us. Why
does the father in the story let the younger son have this money and
freedom? He doesn't want his sons to be slaves to him – he wants
them to grow in knowledge and be able to take over the estate. He
gives the younger son the chance to try himself in the world.
The
second way that he responds to his sons is with mercy when the
younger son returns in humility. The prodigal son doesn't even get
his speech started. He's been practicing it the whole way home...but
the father is so overjoyed at his return, he says, “we can talk
about that later...right now, you are home and I am exceedingly glad.
There's nothing more important than celebrating your return.” That
reaction resonates with me. I have experienced that mercy from my
earthly parents. One story comes to mind – I was working on a
production of the Pirates of Penzance at the Lynchburg Fine Arts
Center. It was closing night and there was a cast party scheduled.
The next day I was going to drive my younger sister to Raleigh for a
visit, so I told my mom that I was just going to make a quick
appearance at the party but would be home before late. This was way
before cell phones were common. One thing led to another and I ended
up falling asleep...waking only as the sun was coming up. I think I
was much like the prodigal son – all the way home I was rehearsing
my apology. My worst fears were realized when I pulled in the
driveway and saw my mother come out the door. She was scared. She was
upset. She was relieved. The one thing that she didn't
show me was anger. She embraced me and was happy for my return.
Later, we talked about how awful that night was for her. And how glad
she was when she saw my yellow VW bug coming down the hill.
Don't
you think that father's heart was breaking when he saw the son
heading out on his great adventure? He was scared and worried – but
he gave the incredible gift of giving his son free rein. And through
the years he was missing from home, the father desired his return.
And when he saw him coming, nothing was more important than
celebrating his return.
When
one of God's children turns away from the fold – he wants nothing
more than their return. And patiently he waits and worries. And when
that child returns, all of heaven celebrates.
Then
the father has to deal with the one who has stayed faithful. The
older son who has continued to work and care for the estate.
Personally, if I was the father in the story, I would have let the
older son stalk off and lick his wounds and be a brat. But the father
pursues him and tries to get him to understand. He hears the
complaint (Dad, I've stayed and worked faithfully and you never threw
me a party! Why would you honor my brother who took your generosity
and squandered it?) and he tells him that this is an event worth
rejoicing!
Jesus
tells this story in direct response to some religious leaders
grumbling that Jesus was welcoming sinners and eating with them. Yes,
guilty as charged. But the stories of the Lost Sheep, Lost Coin and
Lost Son reveal something more. They reveal the concern of the
religious leaders was utterly perverse. It pictured a God who was
more ready to kick people out than welcome them, much less welcome
them while they are “a long way off.” Their piety was
consequently one of judgment and exclusion, sacrifice and not mercy.
The vision of God Jesus offers in all three stories is of one who
does everything possible to make sure whatever is lost is found and
to rejoice in the finding. God’s mercy is not laxness, but love.
This mercy of God at work in us converts us into people who will go
running after the lost even while they are a long way off, not out of
compulsion, but out of the joy of love.
God is bent toward mercy, toward loving kindness. As the Spirit poured out upon us and into us at baptism transforms us, we also become as bent toward mercy as the father in this story. But that transformation takes time and effort.
The
third character in the story – the younger son – is the easiest
to relate to for us. It is the combination of all our humanness. The
desire to go our own way, to say to the Father, I can handle this.
I'm going to take over running my life – I don't need you. It is
also a story of our human wants – let's not worry about tomorrow.
Saving and working and being responsible isn't all that fun. Let's
just do what feels good. We want fun and good food and parties and we
can be pretty selfish sometimes. I'm pointing the finger directly at
myself here, too.
But
what happens when we realize that self-centered life feels pretty
empty after awhile. When the money ran out – all of the prodigal
son's fair-weather friends drifted away. He was left alone and a
great famine swept over the land and even his base human needs
weren't unfulfilled. He had to take a demeaning job caring for
pigs...and even they had more to eat than he did. Life hit rock
bottom.
Here's
where things turned around. But why? Because of a shift in attitude.
It began with realizing that even the lowest servants at his father's
estate were better fed than he was. He knew it was time to go home.
But how? Like that morning that I woke up and realized I had messed
up so bad, but had to go home and face it
His
attitude was now one of humility. His plan was to go to his father
and beg him for a job as a hired hand. He did not head home expecting
to be a full part of the family again. He just wanted to return. So
he starts figuring out what he is going to say. And it is all about
telling his father how unworthy he is.
That
is where I relate the most. I'm real good at telling God how unworthy
I am. I'm pretty good at telling others that I'm unworthy also. But I
excel
at telling myself how unworthy I am. I am an expert at pointing out
my faults. God says, “I love you.” I say, “but you know I don't
read my Bible every day.” God says, “I love you.” I say, “but
I should stop gossiping.” God says, “I love you.” and I say,
“but I am so imperfect. I'll be loveable some day...but not today.”
and God says, “I love you.” He wants no part in my self-hate.
Like the father in the story, he's just not going to stop loving me.
God
seems to be an unwilling participant in our efforts to pigeonhole
Him. The minute we think we've arrived at the most expansive sense of
who God is, “this Great, Wild God,” breaks through our own
articulation and things get large again. The more we allow ourselves
to be loved – to turn home with humility – the more God is
willing to embrace us, not despite our messy selves...but embracing
that part of us too.
Father
Greg Boyle in his book “Tattoos on the Heart” tells a story of a
gang member named Scrappy. He and Scrappy have encountered each other
in some messy situations including a time that Scrappy pulled a gun
on Father Greg. I pick up the story when Scrappy unexpectedly shows
up at G's office (the homies call Father Boyle “G” or “Pastor
G”).
“He
sits and wastes no time. 'Look, let's just be honest with each other
and talk man to man. You know that I've never disrespected you.”
I
figured, “why not, I'm gonna go for it.” “Well, how 'bout the
time you walked out on my homily at Cuko's funeral? ...or the time
you pulled a cuete
out
on me?”
Scrappy
looks genuinely perplexed by what I've said and cocks and scrunches
his face like a confused beagle. “Yeah, well...besides that,” he
says.
Then
we do something we never have in our two decades of knowing each
other. We laugh. But really, truly laugh – head-resting-on-my-desk
laughter. We carry on until this runs its course, and then Scrappy
settles into the core of his being, beyond the bravado of his status
in his gang.
“I
have spent the last twenty years building a reputation for
myself...and now...I regret...that I even have one.
And
then another first...he cries. But really, truly cries. He is doubled
over, and the rocking seems to sooth the release of this great ache.
When the wailing stops and he comes up for air, he daubs his eyes and
runs his sleeve across his nose. He finally makes eye contact.
“Now
what do I do? I know how to sell drugs. I know how to gangbang. I
know how to shank fools in prison. I don't know how to change the oil
in my car. I know how to drive, but I don't know how to park. And I
don't know how to wash my clothes except in the sink of a cell.”
I
hire him that day and begins work the next morning on our graffiti
crew.
Scrappy
discovered, as Scripture has it, “that where he is standing is holy
ground.” He found the narrow gate that leads to life. God's voice
was not of restriction, “to shape up or ship out.” Scrappy found
himself in the center of vastness and in the expansive heart of God.
The sacred place where God had nudged Scrappy all his life is not to
be arrived at, but discovered.”
Can
we all take the opportunity to discover that ourselves? God's love –
like the love of the father in the parable – is just waiting for us
to turn back to. And that love will wrap around us, fill us and then
pour out to everyone we encounter.
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