Rev. Tom Lenhart
Sermon: March 18, 2007
“Who Got Treated Fairly?”
Psalm 32 and Luke 15: 1-3 and 11b-32 

Let us pray.

            What a gospel lesson today! Can’t you see this story on the big screen? Brad Pitt coming to his father -- played perhaps by Alan Alda --asking for his inheritance and then going off to a far land to live the wild life. Each lascivious aspect of Pitt’s life and descent into a living purgatory laid out in infinite detail. And in true Hollywood style Pitt ultimately finds himself and returns “hat in hand” -- contrite -- to his father who takes him back. Now the older brother angry, brooding and hostile – Sean Penn, perhaps -- is simply in a supporting role. He is the other brother, who thinks it unfair that his wastrel brother gets open arms and a banquet with the fatted calf from their father, while he – having stayed dutifully at home -- has gotten nothing except in the vernacular “chump change” for his labors  -- not even a young goat. 

While I am not sure the parable has ever been directly made into a movie, there are echoes of it in several. For example think about the plot of the 1992 movie, A River Runs Through It: two sons living in Montana – a wild younger one and a steady, serious older one and their minister father, who loves both but has a special place in his heart for the youngest. There is no doubt that if Hollywood made a movie of today’s parable the youngest son would be the star.   And, of course, it was Brad Pitt, as the wild younger brother in A River Runs Through It, who was the star of that film.

            Indeed, since the Middle Ages this parable has been the subject of commentaries and books by St. Ambrose, St. Jerome and St. Augustine, among others. More recently Henri Nouwen has written about it. Albrect Durer and Rembrandt sought to capture the story in their paintings. The famous choreographer George Balanchine created a ballet around it, while Prokofiev and others have captured it in symphonic music.  Countless sermons have been preached on this text. It has been my privilege to hear two such sermons by my former ministers. I am indebted to them for ideas that permeate this sermon, although neither should be blamed for any of its shortcoming.

            Most scholars view this story as without literary or theological peer among the gospel parables attributed to Jesus. Whether you agree with that assessment, I suspect you will agree that it is a marvelous story that touches us every time we hear it. It is not, however, best understood as the parable of the “prodigal son,” which it has generally been called since the Middle Ages. Rather it is as Jesus states the story of the man – the loving father – who had two sons.  Both sons are important but it is the father who is central. While it is often said that the devil is in the details, it is the divine that is in the details with respect to this parable. For that reason we need to look carefully at it.

            In understanding this parable it is important to look at the context in which it was told. Earlier in the Luke's account, Jesus has been consorting with the outcasts of his day -- the tax collectors and sinners. The overseers of Jewish law, the Pharisees and the scribes, are troubled by this conduct. You will recall how religiously inappropriate it was considered for Paul to eat with gentiles, who had not been circumcised, so much so that even his fellow apostle, Peter, would not join him in Antioch in such meals. (Galatians 2:11-21) Jesus’ conduct, as a Jew, meeting and eating with the unclean and the outcasts, was therefore quite shocking and certainly contrary to law and tradition.  Our parable and two others -- the parable of the lost sheep and the parable of the lost coin -- told at the same time are Jesus’ response to this criticism.

            One should not underestimate the selfishness and destructiveness of the younger son when he says “Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.”  (15:12) In Jesus’ day the law was generally that the eldest son got two-thirds and the younger son got one-third of their father’s estate, absent a will specifying something different. (Deuteronomy 14:8)   But a son only got his interest when his father died. Thus, this request of the younger son is tantamount to wishing the father were dead and a most fundamental of affronts to the father and to the mores of his day. Some years ago a New Testament scholar teaching in Beirut canvassed fathers in a number of Lebanese villages about the younger son’s request for his inheritance here.  Almost to a man, they said they had never heard of such a request and that any father receiving it would be shocked and wounded.

            But the father, nonetheless, gives his son his inheritance. Luke suggests the father converted at least a third of his estate to cash (at what loss one might ask) so the son could take his share and leave for a far country. That leaving too would have been a slap at his father and custom. Archeologists, for example at the Semitic Museum at Harvard, have in recent years explored and reconstructed (from remains unearthed) the patterns of domestic life in early Palestine. The dominant living arrangement was the patriarchal house, which consisted of a central house for the father and surrounding houses for his children and near relatives. Families lived and died together -- that was the basic norm of survival in that day. They sojourned to other places only at times of crisis, such as war and famine.  Going off to a far country and by himself on a lark, as the prodigal did here, was virtually unheard of and a dangerous repudiation of his family.

            Now what happens in that far place is generally what we remember of the parable. The younger son lives the high life squandering his money on prostitutes and pleasures about which we can only speculate. He is left finally with nothing and famine descends on the land. Desperate he hires himself out.  It is clear that it is to a gentile because the prodigal son is assigned to feed pigs. Nothing could be more unclean an act than this for a Jew. Indeed, for the son to do this work is tantamount to leaving his faith. In the end his circumstances are so meager that he is faced with eating the same carob pods off the ground as the pigs.

            Now the parable at this point says, “he came to himself.” Many have seen this as an epiphany --a moment of repentance. I think the better reading is that the prodigal shrewdly realizes that he could do better at home as a hired hand to his father, rather than tending pigs in this far off country. Indeed, the parable implies that he calculates how he can approach his father.  The parable tells us that he cleverly practices what he will say to his father so as to get the job he wants. I don’t see this as repentance but more a calculated assessment of a way out of desperate situation.

            Once prepared he sets off to return to his father. The extraordinary now occurs. Learning of his lost son’s approach, the father runs to the son. That in and of itself is remarkable. In those times it was beneath a patriarch to run for anything. Here the joy of the father is so great that tradition is put aside and he embraces and kisses this son in the sight of the world. Note that the embrace occurs before the son has a chance to say his set piece. This is as clear an example of unconditioned forgiveness and love as one can imagine. And forgiveness of one who has violated and rejected not simply the father but the tenets of his faith and the mores of his culture. The prodigal was tantamount to being dead. It does not matter. Not only does the father embrace him, but he also dresses him in the finest robe, and gives him a ring and sandals. He is not simply welcomed; he is restored to his place in the family. It is as if he never left, asked for his inheritance, or repudiated his faith and traditions. And, of course, the message for us is that this is what a loving parent does. But more importantly this is what God through Jesus does for us. We are bathed in God’s forgiving grace – no matter what.

            But there is more to this story of the prodigal. Why having been embraced by his father does he in fact go forward with his statement of repentance? Forgiveness and love here are not dependent upon repentance and the Son realizes that finally. But the son has done damage to himself. He has placed pleasure above familial love, and expediency above his faith and cultural mores and he has suffered disastrous consequences. The statement to his father is genuine repentance and it is necessary. For though we are forgiven by God for our transgressions for that to release us, to heal our brokenness, and to allow us to move forward we must acknowledge our mistakes and sins and forgive ourselves; we must in a sense make amends with ourselves and with others. God’s forgiveness does not insulate us from the consequences of our action both internally and externally and we must deal with them.

This is a wonderful story. Even the one who falls to the bottom is forgiven and loved.  So it is that Jesus lovingly eats with tax collectors and sinners. We are reminded of God’s love and forgiveness of us and equally reminded that to be in God’s image we too should love and embrace those who have slipped or been pushed to the margins of our world. But the parable doesn’t end here.  Why a second son? What’s that all about?

            In my view the actions of the father and the second son are equally or perhaps even more important for us. Who is the second son? In point of fact he is more like us that the wastrel younger brother. He is the one who stays home, works like a veritable slave for his father and makes no waves – causes no embarrassment for the family. Sounds like a paragon. But when we look closer there are problems. What is his reaction to the return of his brother? It is anger but worse --in a culture of hospitality to strangers let alone family --he refuses to go to the celebration of his brother’s return.  Why, because he thinks his father is being unfair. What gnaws at the elder son is that he has been dutiful -- worked like a dog -- and got nothing for it, not even a lousy goat. Of course, he is factually wrong. As his father points out he will get all that is rightfully his. But more importantly it is quite clear this man has worked for years not out of love but out of duty.  He has labored not for the love of the work or even because of his love for his father but under the expectation that he would be rewarded measure for measure for what he had performed. He saw life as a return on his investment. The fact that the brother gets the fatted calf and he didn’t is both unfair and unjust. He is the poster child for a rule of unwavering justice. He believes he and his brother should get what each has earned -- in this day and age a frequently endorsed position. Many have a hard time forgiving anyone whether perpetrator or victim. Many rail at those who oppose mandatory sentencing guidelines and mandatory minimums as being soft on crime and ignoring the demands of justice. The principal of innocent until proven guilty gets inverted in the name of necessity and national security. The spirit of the Pharisees lives within our times and us. Forgiveness is pushed to the background. Have you ever caught yourself saying or thinking, “He doesn’t deserve that – he didn’t earn it – it’s so unfair.”’ I certainly have!

            The parable subtly reminds us what the eldest son lost through this mindset. How does the elder son when arguing with his father refer to the prodigal? It is as “this son of yours” – not my brother. It is the father again who gets it right. Though he has cause, does he get angry with the elder son? No! Rather he reassures his son of his unwavering and continuing love. It is the father who reminds him that they all should rejoice because “the brother of yours” -- not my other son -- was dead and has come back to life. In his obsession with getting what he is due, the older brother has lost his love of his brother and cannot forgive him. The father tries to rekindle in the older son the love of his brother, to come away from his dreadful isolation. His success is pointedly left open at the end our parable

            The parable speaks to all of us about love and especially forgiveness. Whether we have sunk to the bottom through self-centeredness or addictions or simply fallen into a rut of nearly mindless duties and obligations, God forgives us and loves us. Of course that is not the end. We too must forgive ourselves, accepting what has happened and what we have caused, so that God’s love and forgiveness can make a difference. The parable reminds us that in God’s world justice is not the final goal for God or for us.

            Some years ago I saw this lesson first hand when I served as a law clerk for a federal judge. This judge was no softy -- indeed, he was a former prosecutor. A female postal worker had been arrested for stealing several checks from the mail. The amount at issue was small -- a thousand dollars at most --but because the postal service was a federal entity such theft was a federal crime. Now, the woman was caught on film taking the checks and so wisely pled guilty to the crime. It was a felony and jail time was the normal sentence. The government sought to have her spend a year in jail. The government’s position was not entirely without justification as the view of the postal service was that the mail service worked as well as it did only because it was secure and therefore the deterrence of arrest, conviction and jail time for those caught stealing must be maintained, so the government argued.

There was a sentencing hearing at which the government made its pitch and the woman’s situation was explained by a public defender. She had a young daughter with cerebral palsy. The mother had gotten behind on rent and other payments because of the daughter’s medical expenses and in desperation stole and forged the checks literally for rent money. The judge adjourned the hearing and instructed me to do some research quickly --for the hearing was to continue in the afternoon with the imposition of sentence. What he asked me to do was to find out if he could impose limited probation as the sentence. I was frankly surprised, as I did not yet know the Judge, who turned out be both just and compassionate. The answer was he could and that is what he did. Later, he explained why he did this. First, he noted that she had admitted the theft and had taken responsibility for her crime. More importantly, the Judge, much like the father in our parable, realized that she had suffered greatly -- as had the prodigal son. The woman most certainly was never going to work for the government again and was going to find it difficult as a convicted criminal to get any job in the future.  I think this captures the message of the parable. It is not that justice is unimportant. But what is clear is that God through Jesus tempers justice with mercy; he eats with the outcasts and sinners. He forgives us.  And by such action God through Christ allows us to forgive ourselves and to move on with life, whether we are picking ourselves up off the bottom or simply extracting ourselves from the ruts of life that rob us our capacity to come alive in love. Did the prodigal and the angry older brother get treated fairly? My answer is emphatically No! They got treated better than fairly and so too do we. Thanks be to God.