Today's Sermon

 

“Whose Journey? – On the Road Revisited"

 

Whose Journey? - On the Road Revisited

            We continue our series “On the Road,” considering various aspects of life’s journeys and how our faith can carry us. Have you ever had the experience of being fine with your own path, where you are in life, how it’s going, even the view. It’s not problem-free, but it’s good, and you’re grateful for what you have…until you see what they have! What do they say, “comparison is the thief of joy?”

            Today, we engage another relatively well-known parable of Jesus to explore this angle. It’s commonly referred to as “The Parable of the Prodigal Son,” though Jesus never called it that. As New Testament scholar Amy-Jill Levine reminds us, the term that gets translated “prodigal” didn’t appear until the Latin translation of the Bible in the late 4^th century. Levine is astute at pointing out how commonly we misunderstood parables, or maybe more accurately “under understand” them. She contends this unfortunate title misdirects our attention to the character in the story who is wasteful, the prodigal.[1] So, with this parable, whose journey should be our focus? Listen for yourselves.

            Luke 15:11-32
            11 Then Jesus said, ‘There was a man who had two sons. ¹²The younger of them said to his father, “Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.” So he divided his property between them. ¹³A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and travelled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. ¹⁴When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. ¹⁵So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. ¹⁶He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. ¹⁷But when he came to himself he said, “How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! ¹⁸I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; ¹⁹I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.’ ” ²⁰So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. ²¹Then the son said to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” ²²But the father said to his slaves, “Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. ²³And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; ²⁴for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!” And they began to celebrate.

            25 ‘Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. ²⁶He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. ²⁷He replied, “Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.” ²⁸Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. ²⁹But he answered his father, “Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. ³⁰But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!” ³¹Then the father said to him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. ³²But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.” ’

            Sometimes our focus is off. Do you remember how last week, agreeing with Levine, I said we miss the message of the Parable of the Good Samaritan when we primarily take it as a lesson about crossing boundaries to help people as good a thing as that is to do? The more powerful, more subversive, message of that parable is that it asks us to recognize our enemies’ capacity for compassion. It’s not about us always being the heroes. Do you remember how a number of months ago I said in regard to Jesus’ commandment to love our neighbors as ourselves, in our culture, we almost always focus on loving ourselves? That too is a good message, but it says more about our culture’s obsession with self than it does what Jesus is after. We must be careful about a self-serving interpretations.

            The challenge of the parables is to see the world differently, call into question not verifiable facts, but conventional wisdom. This makes them by definition hard stories. The Parable of the Prodigal Son is no different. Levine herself says of this prodigal, this wasteful son who squanders his wealth in “dissolute living”, “I don’t like this kid.”[2] It feels good to say it, this spoiled brat who wastes everything and then gets a hero’s welcome while the responsible brother gets no such celebration. In our culture people tend to identify with the good brother. Hmm.

            I know this because most of the time you hear this parable preached, the bulk of the sermon is about sympathy for the older brother. There is merit in that. It’s tough to see someone else be given a very forgiving path when you’ve taken the bumps in stride. It helps to acknowledge that. If we stop there, however, we miss Jesus’ main point. If Jesus wanted to teach us about righteous indignation this is not the story he’d tell. This parable is designed to call into question our righteous indignation. Conventional wisdom tells you to be offended by the prodigal’s welcome. Jesus tells you to celebrate it. The point is that it’s not fair. It’s not even clear the wasteful son has learned his lesson; his groveling return sounds like more desperation than true growth. Jesus does not make it easy to join the party, but he condemns on raining on the parade of the prodigal son nonetheless.

            Let’s return to that question of the parable’s name. If Levine is right that this title “Parable of the Prodigal Son” misplaces our focus, what shall we call it? Levine suggests “the parable of the faithful older brother and his sibling” which recognizes the journey of the “good” brother who didn’t leave and waste all his resources on extravagance and “dissolute living.” She then lands on a better option, noting that Egyptian women apparently refer to the parable as “The Lost Son,” which Levine loves because it leaves it ambiguous as to which brother is lost, the one who has squandered and come home, or the one who has stayed home but resides in resentment.[3]

            Let’s pause for an important caveat. This reading of the parable can be abused if it is used to tell people who have less than everyone else, less in resources, less in rights, that they should get over it; life isn’t fair. I used to hear parents teach their kids, “You get what you get and you don’t fret.” That may be right when it comes to dolling out equal snack options or birthday party favors, not so much when it comes to fair hiring practices or treatment under the law, or decent wages for honest work. We live in a time of ridiculous inequality. The reading can also be abused is used to say you should let abusive back in a position to abuse you. Nothing about the parable advocates for enabling behavior.

            What the parable does convey is the older brother’s response is unfaithful. It’s not about justice; it’s about envy.

            A couple of points may be helpful here. First, we don’t always know what another’s journey has been. Second, even if we think we know what they’ve encountered and squandered, what poor choices they have made, we can never know what internal resources and capabilities they’re working with. This isn’t to say there should be no accountability, just that as is at the core of Jesus’ teaching, there should be no judgment (Matthew 7:1). Third, the envy has no natural end that will be beneficial. What is the older brother angling for, to take away his brother’s? Have his own? Okay, what does that accomplish?

            The parable clearly wants to get people who are fixated on the older brother’s perspective to detach from a reward and punishment incentive structure for behavior. You do what’s right, what’s good, what’s helpful because it’s right, good, and helpful. Someone popped into my study this week and talked about learning to live unattached to outcomes. That’s a plane to which Jesus invites us, to show up as we know we ought and are able and then accept, not condone, but accept what comes. Then we show up to that reality as we ought and are able. That’s all we can do if we want to contribute to the wholeness, not just of our family, but the human family, of our earth family.

            Clearly, above giving everyone a reward, Jesus places a premium on a wounded family becoming whole again. Or, rather, maybe that is the reward. It’s everyone’s reward. We should all want people to come home, metaphorically if not literally. We all benefit. It’s more important than being patted on the back for being the good one. We live in such a time of deep division, what we need are more avenues for people to change their ways and come on home. Have you followed the story of the January 6 participant who refused a pardon, who won’t rewrite what happened, and is repentant for her behavior? Even if people come home in part out of desperation, as the prodigal, it’s a start. Jesus clearly believes God delights when the unit is back together.

            Of course, we have made another mistake in our interpretive journey, or an omission. It’s rare that we are only ever one character in the parable. Are even the best ones among us ever always the good child in the story? Haven’t you at one point received what might be seen by others, if not yourself, as an unearned grace, a bit of good luck even? How quick we can be to forget or take credit for something that came to us. And, those of us who may think we are miserable souls having wasted our inheritance, are we truly purely rotten souls? Have we done nothing of good? What about moments when we’ve been a good parent and cared for someone or something sacrificially, whether to literal children or otherwise, and celebrated someone coming home after wandering off?  

            So, let us return to the question. Whose journey is this parable meant to prompt us to examine? The younger, wasteful, “prodigal”? The older, responsible one? The loving parent? It’s yours, ours. Jesus tells the story so we would check our own responses to the circumstance. We may be tempted to hear a story of this wasteful child and say, “I don’t like this kid. I need to teach him a lesson,” but it is meant to move us to say, “I don’t like this kid” or “I can relate to that one,” and then ask, “Then what have I to learn?”

            Amen.

  

[1] https://chqdaily.wordpress.com/2011/08/18/levine-%E2%80%98prodigal-son%E2%80%99-forces-reassessment-of-bible%E2%80%99s-other-brother-pairs/

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.