A Father's Love [Lent 4C]

The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

A Father's Love

I guess it's like one of those facebook quizzes. Which 2016 Presidential Candidate do you side with? Which Backstreet Boy should you marry? Which Disney character is your spirit animal? Only in our case, today, the question long posed in the Church is: Which son are you? The younger son or the older son?

Growing up in the Pentecostal tradition everyone was quick to identify with the younger son; most of the people in the congregation could share their own delicious tales of hard living, difficult times, debauchery and eventual return home to the loving embrace of God. They read this parable and they became the younger son – eating the pig slop and then falling into the father's embrace. But for those of us who have lived good, church-y lives, who have good manners and solid morals, who have known the Lord's Prayer by heart since infancy, who call Christmas the Feast of the Nativity, and who have stayed away from all of the best debauchery, we cannot relate to the younger son. In fact many of us probably know someone like the younger son and quietly take issue with their poor fiscal habits. There are only two sons in the story and so honestly one of the challenges of this parable is that many of us long-time church folk begrudgingly see ourselves as the older son. And let’s be honest, he does not look good in the story. And so this parable is difficult for those of us who have never walked on the wild side.

At the beginning of today's Gospel, Jesus is criticized by the Pharisees and scribes for welcoming sinners. In response, Jesus tells three parables. The two preceding today’s parable, which are omitted from today's reading, are about a lost sheep and a lost coin. This progression allows Jesus to build suspense and also answer those who are disgusted by his hospitality. In the first parable there are 100 sheep and one is lost. In the second parable there are only 10 coins and one is lost. So the lostness has gone from 1% to 10% very quickly. But in the final parable the father does not have 100 sons, he does not have 10 sons, he has only two sons. Losing one of two is a much more significant loss. And, of course, losing both sons would be absolutely devastating. Losing a relationship with a child is much more heartbreaking than losing a coin or a possession.

We are told immediately that the younger son desires to leave his father and take his money. Now the common wisdom of the day was that a father would never give an inheritance before he died – to do so would make the father look like a fool. No respectful son would even ask. But clearly the son does not respect his father and does not seem to mind making his father look like a fool. The relationship is broken long before the younger son ever approaches his father. This younger son only wants his father’s cash, not a parent. The father does not force the son to stay until his death; he gives the son what he desires most: stuff. And the younger son leaves.

The common wisdom of the day also advised people not to give money to sinners. And yet the son left with his share of the inheritance and started spending. He squandered his property on what the old King James Version calls “riotous living,” and what his older brother imagines was “prostitutes” – a rather revealing interpretation. In the midst of his reckless spending spree, the economy collapses. Overspending combined with a severe famine put the younger son in an impossible situation. He is desperate but does not at first consider reconciliation with his father an acceptable option. The younger son is living in a sinful state of separation; he is isolated. His every relationship is broken. He is alienated from his God and his father and his brother.

And in his desperation, he further isolates himself – this time from his people. Rather than return home, he, a Jew, takes a job feeding the pigs. Jesus could not have chosen a much lower job. The very task made the younger son ritually impure and of course physically dirty. He was willing to even eat the pig’s food. This is the picture of a desperate man; he is simply trying to survive and will do whatever it takes to stay alive – finally, even return home. Jesus’ audience of Pharisees and scribes would judge the younger son for his wastefulness, his selfishness, his irresponsibility, for breaking the Law of God, and for generally being everything they hated. Even though contemporary listeners continue to favor the younger son, not many people, now or then, would feel sorry for this guy.

The older son was very different from the younger son in most ways. While the younger son was off gallivanting, the older son stayed. He stayed and worked. He did not waste his inheritance. He claims perfect obedience. On paper he was pretty solid. But just on paper because in his heart he is just as far from his father as was his brother. The father has lost both sons.

Since the last time I preached this Gospel, my wife and I had our second son. I am now the father of two sons. And that has changed this parable for me. When I read this now, I don't care if I am more like the younger son or the older son, or even a good mixture of the two, instead my heart just breaks for the father – a father who desperately loves his two sons – who loves his two sons even though they can't seem to love him back, loves them as they insult and humiliate him. It's a pain I pray to God I never experience.

But the father in this parable does. Both of his sons disrespect him; they embarrass him all the way through the parable. The younger son shows his father utter disdain by demanding his inheritance early. He then leaves his father, takes his property and possessions, and severs the relationship. The older son embarrasses his father as well. The father throws a party for his returning son; he is so excited that his son has returned – even though this son shamed him. Of course he is, he just loves him so much. The older son refuses to even enter the celebration. Again the father is shamed by one of his boys. The older son’s absence would have been noticeable and his direct rebellion would have embarrassed his father in front of all of his guests. Everyone's talking – and not about the hors d'oeuvres. Everyone's laughing – and not at the host's witty banter.

And yet, if it is possible, it seems the father's love for his boys only grows with each new humiliation. The father always takes the initiative in this parable; he always leads with his heart. His younger son returns home as the disgrace of his family. His departure was scandalous; he returned broke and covered in the stench of pig and sin. And the father goes to him and showers him in kisses before the younger son can even get out his canned speech. The older son treats his father with total disrespect – going so far as to call him a slave master. The older son will not even acknowledge their relationship. He does not consider him a father and does not consider his brother a sibling. The older son simply refers to his brother as that “son of yours.” And yet the father goes to him and even as his son insults, shames, and embarrasses him, the father shows him mercy: “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.”

It's hard to understand how he does it. It's hard to understand how the father keeps his heart open through the assault. It's hard to understand why he doesn't just walk away.

It is easy to see Jesus in the father character. It is easy to see see the connection between this father who loves too much, who shows too much mercy, and the Christ who forgives his killers from the Cross.

But I think there is more to it than that. I don't think we're supposed to pick a son. But also, I don't think we're to supposed to leave Jesus alone with his broken heart; I think we're supposed to be like the father too. As we heard in the epistle today, “God has given us the ministry of reconciliation.” We have been cast in this drama; and God is giving us the unenviable role of the father – asking us to give more than we receive, to love more than we are loved, to expose our hearts to abuse and our fragile egos to embarrassment – all for the sake of the Gospel: the Good News of a Good God who can't run fast enough, whose arms keep opening wider and wider, whose love only seems to grow.

There is a world around us and it is filled with people who are lost, who have fallen through the cracks, who have refused love and mercy, or who have never even been offered love and mercy. They need someone to go to them, arms open wide, heart open wider.