Joshua 5:9-12; Psalm 32; 2 Corinthians 5:16-21; Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
Today we get another parable, one known to us as The Story of the Prodigal Son.
It is a familiar parable, too familiar. It has given us such colloquial phrases as “lost and found” and “kill the fatted calf.” It also brings with it all the baggage of what we have been told and read and in the deepest recesses of our minds, we find that we automatically assume to know what it all means.
I have a task for you today. Forget it! As much as you are able. Come to this story as if you are hearing it for the first time, without the assumptions and deep seeded high Christology. 3-2-1 POOF! There, it’s gone. Now, let’s start from scratch.
Notice how the story begins. “There was a man who had two sons.” Did you catch it? This section of scripture is often marked in bold type “The Lost Son” or “The Prodigal Son.” But here Jesus tells us who to focus on, “There was a man who had two sons.” Two. A family unit. And for simplicities sake, let’s call them Mason and Oliver. The store then viers hard to the right, and all our focus goes to the younger son, Oliver.
If you are part of Jesus first century Jewish audience, this is not at all surprising. In fact, the story begins to sound awfully familiar as the theme of a younger brother getting more attention in the story than an older is a trope that goes all the way back to the Torah. You should be put in mind of the younger Abel’s gift being favored over that of his brother Cains. Isaac being raised up and Ishmael, Abrams eldest, being banished. Jacob winning the inheritance over Esau, even though Esau was born a few minutes earlier. And even Joseph being doted over so much more than the ten who came before him.
We are all pulled into the deep end with this one, as the next twelve verses are completely devoted to the younger brothers side of the story. So Oliver comes to the Father and says “give me all that will be mine.” And surprisingly, there is no discussion. Instead, the Father just splits the inheritance between the two sons. Let me tell you, that is not how the story would play out in my family. But it’s Jesus’ story –– not mine. So in just a few days, Oliver packs it all up and travels to a distant land.
Then we are stuck with him for the rest of the paragraph.
He squanders all he has. He can no longer pay rent so he hires himself out as a farm hand. He gets to sleep in the barn as long as he feeds the pigs. He’s not getting paid, but at least he’s off the streets. Well, Oliver didn’t grow up working in the fields, and he realizes quickly that he doesn’t really like this sort of living He is in desperate need of a shower and is getting hungry. So he begins to develop a plan. Notice he never actually plans to ask forgiveness, instead rehearses lines to abase himself just get back into the house, albeit as a servant.
The prolific Jewish New Testament scholar, Amy-Jill Levine is un-convinced of any true remorse here on Oliver’s part. And frankly, so am I. She and others suggest that the over-rehearsed lines of, “I have sinned against God and against you” when compared with other uses of the same in scripture are full of insincerity. It’s like pouring all your syrup a ritz cracker, a whole lotta sweet, but not a lotta substance.
When he finally gets back to the homestead, (and you can hear him mumbling his lines under his breath the entire way) what he is actually hoping for becomes a reality. The Father sees him down the lane and comes running after him. Oliver doesn’t get to finish the line he’s been practicing because dad attacks him with a bear hug. He never even says anything to his son, instead, he begins yelling at the servants to call the caterer, inform the butcher, bring out the finest coat and ring, (another allusion back to Joseph) and he decides it’s time to through a party for what was lost is now found (and in yet another look to Joseph), the son who was dead is alive again. Woohoo! Par-tay! And that is often where we stop listening. We throw the labels around repentant sinner, grace-filled father, a story of forgiveness. All is well, all is well. Now point me to the buffet. But like the Good Samaritan, Jesus’ stories never quite go where we expect.
Tell me, did you forget about Mason? It’s okay if you did because his father did too.
‘Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. He replied, “Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf because he has got him back safe and sound.” Then he became angry and refused to go in.
Everyone forgot about Mason. He comes in from the field and hears a party going on and doesn’t know why. Everyone forgot about him. He didn’t get an invitation. There seems to be plenty of servants, yet the Father didn’t send anyone out to the field to tell Mason the good news. It seems there are some major family dynamic issues. And I imagine at this point, the servant going into the house and running up to the father to tell him that Mason is outside refusing to come to the party. And the father going, “Oh, I forgot to tell Mason.” This is why it can be dangerous to analogize the Father as God. God never forgets any of us. As I said of the covenant a few weeks ago, God has never failed in the covenant, it is only we who have failed to keep our end and remember God. So now when starting from scratch, we see that the Father is –– a human father, with all the foibles such a title brings.
He comes out to where Mason in brooding to urge him to come inside. The word in the greek here is more likely saying he came out to comfort him. We don’t get the father’s initial words, but it’s safe to say he comes out to say “Sorry! In all the excitement I forgot to let you know.” But Mason interrupts and shows how abandoned he feels. When comparing his obedience to his brother selfishness, he disowns himself from the family, “Listen!” he says, “I stay here and work the fields like a slave, BUT THIS SON OF YOURS . . . “ Not brother, not Oliver, but this son of yours.
So –– “there was a man who had two sons.” And when we dig a little deeper it appears that he actually lost both of them.
We don’t really know how the story ends, Jesus (or at least Luke) cuts it short. The Father says, “Son, we have reason to rejoice, come inside, see your brother, and get a bite to eat.” In the end, we have a call to restoration, but the story is not a restoration between God and creation, rather it is restoration among ourselves. The family is broken and is not actually complete, not actually made whole until the entire family is back together. This is a lesson in how we live together.
God’s covenant with Abraham is a promise of Land, Descendants, and Blessing. In return, to keep our end of the bargain, we are charged to love God and love each other.
Taking care of each other. Making sure the family the entire human family is whole, and that we all have a place at the table.
I will conclude with Dr. Levine’s own words, as she says it so well.
If we hold in abeyance, at least for the moment, the rush to read repenting and forgiving into the parable [because forgiveness never gets mentioned] then it does something more profound than repeat well-known messages. It provokes us with simple exhortations. Recognize that the one you have lost may be right in your own household. Do whatever it takes to find the lost and then celebrate with others, both that you can share the joy [and gladness] and so that the others will help prevent the recovered from ever being lost again. Don’t wait until you receive an apology; you may never get one. Don’t wait until you can muster the ability to forgive; you may never find it. Don’t stew in your sense of being ignored, for there is nothing that can be done to retrieve the past. Instead, go have lunch. Go celebrate, and invite others to join you. If the repenting and the forgiving come later, so much the better. And if not, you still will have done what is necessary. You will have begun a process that might lead to reconciliation. You will have opened a second chance for [restoration and] wholeness.*
For all the Law and the Prophets; for all the tales of brokenness and restoration;
for all the talk of death and resurrection; this is nothing new to God or the story of humanity. So let’s get up and try again. Find who is lost. The poor and the homeless, the unloved and forgotten, or even the person you see every day, maybe sitting next to you this morning, or maybe it’s a part of yourself that hasn’t fully returned.
Help them fully return. Bring us all back to life. Then with our hearts full of gladness or “Laetare”, as today is called we can all go to lunch –– together.
AMEN.
Rev. J. Nelson - 4 Lent C - March 31, 2019
St. David of Wales Episcopal Church - Elkhart, Indiana
* Levine, Amy-Jill. Short Stories by Jesus The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi. New York, NY: Abingdon Pr, 2014. (p 69-70)
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