One of Luke's principal themes throughout his gospel is that Jesus sweeps away the old, exclusive, legalistic approaches of God's relationship with humanity, and replaces them with a new, inclusive relationship founded on love. And part of this new inclusion is the ability to turn away from our own wilfulness and be welcomed back into God's love. So, a story which depicts a parent allowing a child to make mistakes, learn from them, ask for forgiveness and be welcomed back, would have been very close to Luke's view of Jesus's message.
What the story itself is telling us
Many of Jesus's examples in his teaching were based on the daily things of life in his own time - sheep and shepherds, behaviour attributed to unclean spirits, people afflicted with leprosy, the punishment of those who breached moral codes, and so on. But this story of the father and his sons seems particularly timeless. We don't need to update any of the elements in this story to make it speak to us today. Just look at the people we meet:
- a restless younger child, believing that he will always live in the shadow of the elder brother, his father's natural successor, and the urge to follow his own drives and shape his own life;
- an elder son, the more serious and intense of the two boys, brought up from birth to carry on the family business, burdened with the responsibilities of succeeding to the family's interests, trying desperately to be as good as his father, whom he probably worships, yet feeling rather under-valued and probably aware of a certain emptiness in his life;
- the worry and anxiety around a child leaving home for the first time, heading for the great unknown;
- the temptations of the big city to a youngster with money in his pocket and a healthy appetite for things he's never been able to try before;
- the challenge of trying to survive on your wits when all your money has gone, and looking longingly at others who have enough to eat and enough security and shelter to get by;
- the realisation that it takes courage to turn to those who love you, and to find the humility to ask for help, not knowing what to expect;
- the response from some that "it was of your own making; you had your chance; I never had what you've had; why should we make any effort for you now?"
- and the response from the loving parent that "I'm so glad you're back; whatever you've done you're still my child and I will always love you and be there for you. Welcome home."
The interesting thing is - we have probably been, at some time in our lives, all three of those characters.
Haven't we occasionally launched off into something entirely for our own satisfaction, against the wishes of those closest to us, and without too much thought for their feelings? And when we've fallen flat on our faces haven't we squirmed and struggled with our pride until eventually we've had to go back and say 'sorry, please help'?
Or haven't we sometimes observed a friend or colleague follow a completely crackpot and self-centred path, get into difficulties, and pronounce our judgment that she is getting what she deserves, she's made her bed, now let her lie in it?
And haven't we at least once said to someone we love "Yes you've been a fool, but I love you too much to leave you at rock bottom. You're welcome to come back?"
Yes, I do think the emotions and the tensions and the personalities in the story are very much with us today - they still reflect how human beings regularly react to each other in families, communities, and society generally.
But, if the story, as Luke says, is about God's mercy, then perhaps we need to consider how, as disciples of Jesus today, we might apply this understanding of human nature to our own relationships.
What Jesus is saying to us through the story
I have never believed that God requires the impossible from us. If we recognise the father in the story as symbolising God - the parent who forgives unconditionally and who will always welcome us back into a loving relationship - we also need to recognise that we will only rarely have the capacity within ourselves to come close to offering such unconditional love to others.
We are human: we will often behave like the self-centred children, not the infinitely patient parent in the story. Our challenge is steadily, following the teaching of Jesus, to lose our inclination to rush to judgement, and to grow in love, forgiveness and acceptance.
Perhaps a lesson learnt by the younger son was that someone who really loves you will do whatever they can to rescue you from destruction.
Maybe the lesson learnt by the elder son was that love can and should set aside human interpretations of justice, duty and fairness when we are able to save someone from destruction.
The father knows in his deepest being that the love required to give someone freedom costs a great deal, and is a risk which is frequently misinterpreted by those closest to you; yet unconditional love is the only thing that will rescue someone from destruction.
The gospel of Jesus can often seem unfair. We see Jesus rewarding wastrels, scoundrels and profligates with his time and friendship, while seeming to ignore the claims of the respectable and respected. The people Jesus claimed as his own were most certainly undeserving - and they point us to the ultimate quality of God: mercy.
Those
of us who come face to face to with Jesus as people who might be seen as
respectable and respected, come face to face with the challenge of this
story: fairness or mercy? Perhaps the answer lies somewhere in our ability
to appreciate all that we already have, and - in our thankfulness - to find
generosity of Spirit towards those whom we know Jesus would embrace without
question.
Amen
(Philip Jones)
This sermon was first preached in the Metropolitan Community Church of Manchester. Click here for further information.