This is probably the worst named parable. The very beginning challenges the whole title – The prodigal son. Because there wasn’t only one son but two. And one son doesn’t mean much. But two sons – uh, oh! That’s Biblical code for juicy drama. Did he just say, “two sons”? Two sons? That’s a recipe for murder and mayhem like Cain and Abel, of rivalry and banishment like Ishmael and Isaac, of trickery and favoritism like Esau and Jacob, of blessing and comparison like Manasseh and Ephraim. Yikes. But, at this point, every listener knew two things when they heard “two sons”: 1) this was going to a white-knuckled, pulp fiction like drama; and 2) you should identify with the younger son. “There was a man who had two sons. The younger one . . .” Yep. You wanted to be the younger one because that’s the one who was going to win, going to be blessed, expected to prevail. Abel, not withstanding (at least he was the dead hero), all of the younger ones – despite cultural conventions which gave priority and status to the oldest – were the ones blessed and chosen by God. But yikes – what kind of son is this? Jesus tricks us. This can’t be right – for the younger son was an irresponsible, self-indulgent, self-centered, sinner. “That cannot be the son who is blessed,” some must have thought. Others, however, “the tax collectors and sinners” who were listening must have recognized – that’s the son I have been.
And this son does terrible things and comes to a horrifying conclusion, “I’m dying.” He is brought to the beginning of confession – where he sees clearly the terrible state he finds himself in. And no one had to say to him, “You idiot!” No one needs to. And so he surmises that he should just go home and that it was better to be a slave in his father’s house than a son with the pigs. And so he head’s off for home.
A man had two sons. Repent!
He discovers that we are not forgiven because we make ourselves forgivable or even because we feel bad; we are forgiven solely because there is a Forgiver who “runs and kisses.” Confession is not some transaction or negotiation to secure our forgiveness – it is merely waking up to the fact that we can go “home” and that Dad is ever ready to receive us. So I want to talk about a dusty, old, potentially boring, often feared, word – repentance, and bring it to our story.
Repentance isn’t accomplished when we first realize our need, our hunger, our pain. It doesn’t occur when we imagine that we're bad, or broken, or even mistaken. It “happens” when we repent and realize that God, our Father, is FOR us. It happens when we acknowledge that God is generous and then become dumbstruck by how much. He recognized he was lost but that’s not repentance. Repentance may be one of the more misunderstood words in the Biblical canon and misleadingly conjures up feelings of self-loathing, unworthiness, even terror. So now it’s time for the Greek of the Week. “Repentance” in Greek is metanoiete which is the joining of two words, meta (beyond) and nous (mind or spirit), and thus it means something like “go beyond the mind that you have.” The English word “repent” has a moralizing tone, suggesting a change in behavior, whereas Jesus’ use hints at a change on a far more fundamental level of one’s being. His call to repentance through the parables urges us to change our way of knowing, our way of perceiving and grasping who we are and who God is. When this is understood we recognize that the younger son’s confession wasn’t the whole story – couldn’t be the whole of repentance. The Son rightly knew he was in trouble but wrongly thought he was something “less,” something “no longer.” He wrongfully believed that his bad choices and sinful actions reflected the most important thing about him. But deeper than being sorry for his own actions, true repentance began when he “came to his senses” and remembered that the father was kind and generous and repentance finished when he encountered the kissing father and he learned he wasn’t less. The Apostle Paul understood Jesus - it’s God kindness that leads to repentance (Romans 2:4). God’s repentance plan involves God running, kissing, and giving a “best” robe, a dazzling ring, the fattened calf, and a spectacular party. The video of Jim Wolf, a veteran of the U.S. Army who was offered a makeover is a helpful analogy (you can watch the link by clicking HERE).
The hammer has just been dropped for the first? What? He didn’t get way-laid, punished, or but was celebrated. And that’s the real rub, isn’t it? Forgiveness isn’t so bad when it’s offered to others with an icy stare, a glass of water, and crust of bread. But a party? And the older, moral, hard-working son – who had done nothing wrong – well, it turns out that he needs to repent too, needs to go beyond the mind he has. And what was that mind? Well, it was a competitive spirituality of saints and sinners, losers and winners. It was a spirituality of reward for the dutiful and punishment for the rest- or at least a “what comes around goes around” option. It’s a vision which wants wayward sons to be servants and a forgiveness that doesn’t “eat” with bad-choice people. It was a spirituality of “or” and a “refusal to go in.”
A man had two sons. So give up your “or”, embrace an “and” and let’s party.
An element often overlooked by the title The Prodigal Son is that the Father not only had two sons but loved two sons, went out to two sons (vs. 20, 28), and was generous to two sons (12, 22, 31). Perhaps it is because of the competitive rather than cooperative spirit of our society that we must imagine there must be losers if there are winners. It is so difficult not to think Jews or Gentiles, poor or rich, gay or straight, saint or sinner, tax collector or Pharisee, Republican or Democrat, younger son or older son. But God is both/and not either/or. Such is God’s love and if we let go of our syrupy notions – it’s difficult to not be offended by God’s grace toward those I don’t like, and think don’t deserve it. And God’s grace doesn’t just let them in to hide in the corner but wants them to come out on the dance floor, eat the food, laugh and play games.
There is one difference between the two sons. Both sons were lost and loved – that’s true. We know that the younger one – the reprobate went in. We don’t know about the older one – we’re left hanging in a Cliffhanger-like way. Will he join the party? Vs. 28 may be the most significant difference between the two brothers (not their moral choices but their responses to grace): forgiven sinners don’t have to be “pleaded with” to come in. Obedient sons often do. Does God have to plead with you to join the party? Salvation is not ultimately about religion or spirituality or morality any other solemn subject; it’s about God having a good time and just itching to share it. Your inability to accept that doesn’t change the party, doesn’t cancel the invitations, won’t ruin the cake, doesn’t turn away the guests. It will only leave you on the “outs” and looking in. Join the party. If you are the younger son, come home. We can only have church, only see this parable, only understand God, when both sons are under the same roof.
No comments:
Post a Comment