Lent IV                                                     The  Rev'd David C. Cobb

II Corinthians 5:17-21;                                March 18, 2007

Luke 15:11-32,                                          Solemn Mass

 

The thing about this parable is that we don't know where to look.  When you read it carefully, you begin to feel you have wandered into someone's family argument.  It would be awkward, maybe presumptuous to take sides or express an opinion.  Maybe, you think,  if we can get them to change the topic, we can all get through dinner.  Someone needs to ask the young man about the big cities and the older one might be distracted if we talk about soybean futures or farm subsidies.    The old man, well, he's not quite clear in the head is he?  You know, none of this is his anymore, not the fatted calf he had killed or the house he throws open for this party.  When the sons divided their inheritance and the older son bought the younger one out, the Father is left effectively powerless.  You can control the next couple of generations as long as you can re-write the will, but, once you put it all in some irrevocable trust, well, you are done. 

 

Of course, he still had a place there.  He had use of the house and probably managed to keep an eye on things, the older son certainly feels he had been watched closely.  But in general, what we have here is something of a King Lear, power and wealth had been given away, and there wasn't much else for the old guy to do but play golf or watch re-runs of old TV shows and even older movies on TCM.  He had given it all away and so he was pretty much benched in any family disputes. 

 

Jesus likes the old guy.  And sees something there that we could miss.  The parable slides past months and maybe years between the day they divided the property and this moment.  Now, when the son returns, when he glimpses him in the distance, the old man goes running, no matter how foolish it looks   Once you've learned to give as much as he's given, when you have reason to give so generously, I guess you don't worry too much about the impression you're making.  And when he reaches the returning wastrel, the old man acts as if the whole world were still his to give.  That's the strangest thing.  He'd already given it all away, and yet he welcomes the boy back as if he had it all to give again, the robe, the ring, the fatted calf. 

 

The younger son arrives home, and he arrives with a plan, he is headed towards the servant's quarters, maybe in humility, or maybe to avoid having to deal with the broken relationships. “Here's how I can work my way back in,” he thinks.  What he wants is to come almost home.  “I'll hang out in the servant's quarters, I'll be on the meal plan, but not under his thumb.”    

 

The father is having none of it.  You cannot go out back, because I love you.  You will not earn this robe or work off this debt, here, it is already yours.   It is you I care about, not what you've done or what schemes you might try.    The son thought there was nothing left for the old man to give, and he could not have been more wrong.  The father was just getting started. 

 

And it's the same with the older brother.  The father goes out to him, leaving the host's place at the table, putting aside his dignity; he listens to the spite in the older son's voice. -  “I've put in these many hours of work and lived by all these rules- you owe me, this much and that scamp deserves nothing.”  The younger son cannot work his way back home- -and the older son does not need to either.  The Father has nothing, it has all been given away, “Whatever is mine is yours.”

 

This old man will does not wait patiently and impassively for the penitent or for the aggrieved to seek him out, he runs down the road like a twelve year old and he hops up from the table and goes off into the yard like a servant.  God gives creation into our hands and breaths life into our bodies, “whatever is mine is yours.” Through the Incarnation, the eternal God does run down the roads of our worlds as twelve year old and he does get up from the table, taking a pitcher or water, a basin and a towel and becomes the servant.  Jesus tells this story so we can look at the old man and know God better. 

 

Can you believe that God is like that?  You do not have to work out whether you are the returning penitent or the hardworking reliable one, God has come out to us in Jesus Christ and is ready to see us in robes of dignity.  You'll have to put up with some unlikely sorts, but God really wants you and me and the person we don't understand, and all of us to gather at this table and wants us to sing, maybe even to dance, though that seems unlikely.  Can you believe that God is really like this?

 

So it does not matter.  Not what you have done wrong or what you have left undone.  It doesn't matter how much good you have done or what rules you have obeyed.  Earn degrees or drop out.  Make money or live on next to nothing.  And as impossible as it is for me to say it, kindness and cruelty, either one.  Still, the Father is running down the road to meet you. He is willing to leave the table and come out into the dark yard where you are standing with your arms crossed. 

 

Paul speaks of a new creation and this is it.  It is not the order we impose by military might or the elegant perfection of Church structures.  Indeed, we need to stop fighting and to call the nations to stop fighting, because its all already been given into our hands and there is only one table, and penitent or prodigal, resentful or aggrieved, we all have to sit at this one table if we want to get anywhere near God.  If anyone is in Christ, there is a new Creation.  This old creation still draws us into waste and sinful extravagance.  It still throws us the illusions of holiness and righteousness that produces elder brothers unwilling to find a place with the unwashed.  We need a new creation, even if it is not what anyone of us would have planned and even if it offends our sensibilities.  We need to be in Christ so we can find our way back home; when we did not know we had left.  We need to be in Christ, so we can mirror in some way, the grace we have received. 

 

If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation.  Maybe you want to think of it as around the corner, or maybe it's the reality that gets clouded with appearances  or maybe it's the truth that is can almost hear through the static. But if this is the way God really is, if Jesus' parable is true, there is a new creation breaking into our regrets and resentments, there is a new possibility when the schemes no longer work; there is reason to laugh and yes, even dance.   God reconciled us to himself through Christ.  You did not get to be good enough, you did not have profound enough of repentance, God reconciled us in Christ.  Because God loves us.  God was in Christ reconciling the world, the eternal God carried our human weight and spoke in our language and at the end, it was our blood pouring out of his veins.  And then, on the other side of Easter, n that same flesh and blood, Christ calls us back to the table. Our older brother is not resentful.  Instead, he graciously delights in calling us brother and sister and teach us to say, Father, Abba.  God was in Christ, reconciling the world to himself.  Can you believe that God is like that?  And if you can believe that Christ died and rose again, it's got to be for that purpose, otherwise, why bother.  . 

 

Can you believe that God is like that?  A father who has given it all away and still offers a robe and a feast?.  A father who will even leave the table where we are welcome and go find the one we've offended and try and bring them to the table.   Can you believe that?  All this comes from God who reconciled us to himself through Christ. 

 

Keep listening .  God reconciled us to himself in Christ And has given us the ministry of reconciliation.   If you can believe that God's love is so relentless and so generous, if you believe that in Christ God was acting to bring unity and salvation to a broken and dying world, it changes you.  And then, you change the world.  If you believe that about God, think what it means you need to believe about yourself, and about the people around you. 

 

When the younger son gets used to his new robe and catches up on his sleep a little, when the older brother, and we trust the father's ability to heal the breach- when the older brother comes in and finally relaxes into the joy of the moment, then they need to go back out.  There are still people whose lives are cramped by anger and self-righteousness.  There are still people whose foolishness or confusion leave them sitting in pig pens not yet aware that they really want to go back home.  There are people who have no reason to believe that God's desire is for reconciliation, that Jesus was willing to seek them out, or that there is any place for them at this table, or who aren't willing to be here if they can't control the guest list. 

 

You are welcomed here, we have a place in God's creation that is grace and gift.  And part of that gift is this: that we can turn towards someone else, that we can move towards others as this generous and determined Father moved, running down the road, leaving the table and going out in the yard. You need to say something, do something, give something.  You need take up this ministry, not because you have finished the journey home, but because you are on the road.  Not because you have found peace and good will with all, but because you know you need to put down resentments and grievances. 

 

There was a man who had two sons : can you believe Jesus, that God is like this?  Then believe that you are welcome, that God's kingdom is home, and then turn and be welcome and mercy to someone else.  God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation

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