March 18, 2007
(Fourth Sunday in Lent)
The Prodigal Rebuttal
by The Rev. Canon Susan Sommer
Joshua 5:9-12 • Psalm 32 • 2 Corinthians
5:16-21 • Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
(From
The Lectionary Page)
"Is it just me or has the whole world gone insane? What am I talking about? I'm talking about that party going on in there for that no good sonuva…son of my father. He’s been nothing but trouble -- selfish and willful from the moment he could walk. He couldn’t wait for our father to die so that he could get his rightful share of the property -- oh no, not him. Soon as he turned 18, he goes and asks the old man for his share of the inheritance. I couldn’t believe it! Who would do such a thing? He might as well have said to Dad, "Drop dead!" But does Dad disown him? Maybe knock some sense into him? NOOOO! He divides the property and gives my brother his share. Oh man, listen to that racket! The whole neighborhood is in that house, eating, drinking, dancing, carrying on. Not me. Not on your life. Everyone here, especially the old man, seems to have lost their mind. Well I’ll tell you what. Someone has got to take a stand for common sense and decency.
"Like I was telling you, he was a wild child. No sooner did he get the cash in hand but what he took off for a far country. The farm wasn’t good enough for him. He had to have adventure, excitement. I stayed here. Well someone had to. Someone had to be the responsible one and since I’m the older brother, it fell to me. Well, to tell you the truth, that part actually has worked out okay. After all, Dad did divide the property and so I got my share ahead of time too. Dad told me he’d leave it to me to run the farm. If I say so myself, I’ve done a pretty good job. We’re turning a nice profit, but hey, let’s be clear about one thing – the farm is a success because of my hard work and discipline. I’m in the fields all day working. Well someone has to. Crops don’t grow all by themselves. Well, OK, bad example. Crops actually DO grow by themselves once you plant them, but you know what I mean.
"I’ll tell you, though, the old man was never the same after the kid left. Oh, he’d try to take interest in the farm and all, but more often than not I’d catch him gazing out the window, watching the road, waiting for his no-good son to show up. To tell you the truth, that was like a slap in the face. I mean, c’mon, here I am, doing everything I’m supposed to do. I’m honoring my father. I’m a success businessman. I obey the law, I pay taxes, I am a respectable member of the community. So I guess that makes me, what? Chopped liver? This selfish creep of a kid totally disrespected Dad and dishonored the whole family. Seems pretty clear to me. Dad should just get over it and move on. Consider the kid dead. He sure as heck considered Dad dead when he asked for his inheritance But no. He never gave up.
"So you can imagine how I felt when I came in from the fields tonight, tired and sweaty. I hear music and laughter, and I smell barbeque. Hey, this is a workday, what’s going on? So I asked one of the servants. Seems the kid is back and my father is treating him like royalty. He gave him the purple robe, he gave him the family’s signet ring, and called for the servants to prepare a banquet. Can you believe it? The kid has totally disgraced himself, he comes crawling home, and what does the old man do? Does he use this as an opportunity to teach him a good lesson? No! He runs out to meet him. I didn’t see that, and I’m glad I didn’t, because that would have been the last straw. Imagine! A grown man – an important man in this community – hiking up his robes like a field hand, kicking off his sandals, and running out to meet his son! I’m told that the kid at least had enough integrity to admit that he did wrong and wasn’t worthy to be called his son. Geez, ya’ think? OK, fine, let him come home, but I say let him live with the consequences for once. Let him prove himself worthy of our father’s love and respect. Let him prove he’s turned over a new leaf. THEN maybe we can talk about a barbeque. That's what I would have done. Not Dad.
"I swear, the old man does not live in the real world. You know he was just out here, trying to talk me into joining the party. Yeah, right, like that’s gonna happen. He told me that everything he has is mine. Well, that’s true enough. The farm is mine. Hmmm. I wonder if...nah, couldn’t be....Still, I wonder if he meant that all of his love was mine too. That his love for me wasn’t, I dunno, diminished by his love for my brother. Like maybe he could be happy over the kid returning and still love me. Like maybe just being his children was enough. Like maybe he loves me for who I am and not for what I do...or don’t do.
"Look at them in there. I don’t know when I’ve seen Dad that happy. He’s smiling and laughing, telling those cornball jokes of his. I haven’t seen him do that since...well...since the kid left. Aw, I don’t get it. I honestly thought the way to the old man’s heart was by working hard and proving myself worthy of his love. But maybe I got it wrong. Maybe it isn’t about me or the kid. Maybe…maybe it’s about Dad – the ways he gives and gives, and loves lavishly. I mean, look, he forgave my brother before my brother could even give him the details of what he did wrong. Now that I think about it, he probably forgave him the moment he took the cash and left in the first place.
"Look at them in there. This party is gonna to go on all night. Looks like we won't be getting much work done tomorrow. And there’s Dad. He’s beckoning me in again. Yeah, Dad, I see you. No, I’m fine out here. What? You’re not gonna give up, are you? You’re bound and determined to have me at the banquet too, aren’t you?
"Oh my God, that’s what you want! You want me at the banquet too, don’t you? You want him AND me and the whole neighborhood too. That’s what you’ve wanted all along.
"Huh.
"Well, I must say, that barbeque smells pretty good."
Two Sons and a Father
By The Very Rev. Terry White, Dean
This Gospel lesson is not about the Prodigal Son nearly as much as this is a parable about The Forgiving Father. And let us not forget the Unforgiving Son. Much of this homily comes from the writings of Herbert O'Driscoll.
Jesus begins the story saying: There was a man who had two sons. Is it possible that in every one of us there are two offspring?
See if you identify with the following characteristics of the younger son. First, he said, "Give me my share of the inheritance now, that which will one day belong to me." There is a part of us that can be impatient, wanting to have it all now, see now, explore now, unwilling to wait. [H. O'Driscoll, The Word Among Us, year C, vol 2, pp 38-40]
The younger son traveled to a distant country. There is something in us that is frustrated with the here and now, tired of the dullness of our present circumstances. [Ibid]. Something in us longs to be someplace else; it may not even matter 'where', just someplace else.
The younger son squandered his property in dissolute living. A nice way of saying he wasted what was given him, and what he used his money for did nothing to make him healthy, wise, or more charitable. There is something in us that confuses freedom with doing whatever we want. We satisfy appetites believing that we are exercising our rights. And instead of discovering our true self, we discover the self-centeredness in us that is always ready to direct all our actions. [Ibid].
If this younger son has ever ruled your life, has ever directed a relationship of yours, a vocation, or how you use your money and intelligence, then you are not surprised that the parable says that the younger son endured a severe famine and began to be in need. The emptiness of the soul's landscape will cause us to settle for hog slop. And when we've sunken just about as low as we can go, we come to a realization which can lead us to salvation: and the younger son came to himself.
Herbert O'Driscoll writes: "We find our self after we have slowly and painfully worked out one of the great equations of life. We have discovered at last that rights without responsibilities lead us to a cul de sac." [Ibid]. A place where we must turn around and retrace our steps.
That is when we want to go home - not home to a distant place, but home to our own true, our whole and healthy self. [Ibid].
According to Our Lord's parable, what then becomes important is whether we have it in ourselves to forgive ourselves, whether the "older" sibling in us can forgive the wandering younger one in us, and welcome us home. The profound sadness of this story is that the older son could not forgive the younger.
But, Jesus says, the forgiving father ran and put his arms around the younger son and kissed him.
Sometimes it is not easy to come home to one's self. That is when the elder child within speaks up, the so-called good and responsible one who never wanders and always does the right thing. The older one in us tries to compensate for younger part. The guilt we feel for squandering so much causes us to fight within our self, as if we deserve to be miserable and remain forever caught in the circle of not being able to do what we should do. [Ibid].
Why does the older son in us have trouble forgiving, why does the sound of the dance and celebration make us angry? Why do we refuse to go into the party?
I think, in part, we fear that forgiveness somehow excuses wrong behavior. Thus, we rationalize, it is godly to be self-righteous rather than forgiving, especially if we are faced with forgiving wrong and harmful choices. And when the elder one is us cannot forgive, it twists so many good things into unhealthy things: "Loyalty emerges as jealousy, consistency becomes rigidity, and our desire to be responsible is horribly transfigured into self-righteousness." [Ibid].
Such shadows refuse to sit down at the table of forgiveness and celebration; they refuse to join in the dance. At the very least, jealousy, rigidity, self-righteousness and the refusal to forgive prevent us from experiencing the joyful homecoming - our OWN homecoming to the Father's joy and forgiveness. [Ibid].
My final point is also from Father O'Driscoll who wonders why Jesus didn't just stop the parable once the young son came to himself and returned home to his father's forgiveness and celebration. The story is quite powerful just by stopping there. Why did our Lord introduce us to the elder brother? Most likely because we identify with the elder brother.
The great party thrown by the Father when his younger son is forgiven for his past, is tainted by the self-righteousness of the elder son. The father pleads for him to understand that his younger brother who was lost is now found. That in no way affects the elder's inheritance, but the parable ends with us not knowing if the elder brother finally understood and joined in the feast. Jesus includes the elder brother in the parable because we must not let our story end that same way. [Ibid].
My sisters and brothers, in each of us two offspring live: one in need of forgiveness, and one resenting that forgiveness is needed, resenting it to such an extent that we refuse the very love of our forgiving Father who accepts us even before we come to our self and return home, before we ever utter a word of confession and apology.
Around us is a city and a world full of people weary of eating hog slop. And within the body of Christ today, both the elder and younger brothers are very much alive and acting out. Yet still, still, a loving and forgiving Father runs to us, embraces us, and showers us with love that is deep, broad, and high.
May the younger sibling in us come home; come to our true self. And may the elder brother in us come to the feast and taste the bread of forgiveness and drink from the cup of new life. We were ALL lost and now are found. Taste and see how gracious the Lord is. Let our life not end without entering the celebration of forgiveness.