4th Sunday in Lent: March 10, 2013

4^th Sunday in Lent: March 10, 2013

Luke 15: The Prodigal Son

PREACHER: Pastor Carrie Smith

“I don’t think our Lord would do something like that…”

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. 

About three days into my very first week as pastor of a church, I was invited to the Annual Women’s Luncheon. I was so nervous to be sitting with all those lifelong members. These were powerful women who, I knew, would be taking reports back to the others about just who this new “lady pastor” was.

Everything was going fine as we ate lunch and had some friendly small talk. Then one of the ladies asked me what I had been reading recently. I love to talk about books, so I launched into an explanation of the latest novel I was reading. It was a book called “Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal.” It’s a great book—if a bit off-color at times—about what it must have been like to grow up as the best friend of the Son of God. If Jesus was a real human kid, then he had to have real friends, right? I told them about one scene, in which a teenage Jesus is hanging out with his younger brother. The little brother takes a lizard and smashes his head with a rock. Jesus picks up the dead lizard and puts it in his mouth, and then pulls it out again, resurrected. This makes the little brother squeal with glee, so he smashes the lizard again, and Jesus resurrects it, again. And again. And again…

So I’m telling the ladies this story, and then I notice that they all have looks of horror on their faces. The woman who had asked what I was reading leaned toward me with much seriousness and said, “Well, I don’t think our Lord would do anything like that.”

That went well, don’t you think?

Apparently, we expect our saviors to be dignified and respectable. We certainly don’t expect the Savior of the world to be resurrecting lizards for the amusement of his little brother.

The Pharisees and scribes also had expectations of the one who would be savior. In fact, our Gospel lesson for today begins by reporting how the Pharisees and scribes were all grumbling about Jesus, saying “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”  How scandalous. How undignified! You can almost hear them grumbling, “I just don’t think our Lord would do anything like that.” 

It is in answer to these criticisms of his ministry that Jesus tells the story of the Prodigal Son. Now, we know this parable inside and out. Even folks who have never read the Bible, or who have rarely darkened the door of a church, know at least the bones of the story: There is a man who has two sons. The younger son asks for his inheritance early, and then squanders it while partying it up in the city. When he’s made a complete mess of his life, he comes crawling back home. But instead of being angry, or throwing him into the barn, the father runs to his wayward son, lavishing him with food and gifts. “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now am found. Was blind, but now I see.” Amen?

We love that hymn, and we love this parable, chiefly because nearly all of us can identify with the wayward younger brother. All of us, at one time or another, have strayed far from home, far from God, far from our commitments, or from our own values, only to wake up in a pig barn, muttering to ourselves, “This place stinks!” It is Good News to hear Jesus tell of God’s amazing grace and radical welcome for those of us who, like sheep, have gone astray. The story of the Prodigal Son is, in so many ways, our own story of being welcomed into the arms of God through the cross of Jesus Christ.

But there’s one character in this parable we often forget—the elder brother. Where was the elder brother while everyone else was partying? He was outside the door, grumbling. He was standing there with arms crossed, complaining to anyone who would listen that he had been faithful. He was a rule-follower. In fact, he was doing double the fieldwork since the little brother took off and was presumed dead. And now, just because he came crawling back, his father is throwing a party? You can almost hear the older brother, leaning forward and saying with much seriousness: “I just don’t think Dad would do anything like that.”

It’s true that each of us is the younger brother, being welcomed home with open arms. But it’s also true that we often more closely resemble the elder brother, grumbling when we see God throwing a party for someone we deem unworthy. How many times have we judged someone as beyond saving or beyond forgiveness? How often do we find ourselves feeling righteous because we were here first, because we follow the rules, or because we think we’ve put in the hard work all these years? When have you found yourself saying, “I just don’t think our Lord would do something like that”?

When Robert was serving his first congregation in Texas, I remember a lengthy discussion among the ladies about whether the acolytes should be allowed to wear flip-flops under their robes. Undignified. The Lord certainly wouldn’t approve.

And not long ago, having a female preacher leading a Lutheran church fell into that category as well! I still remember the hushed tones my grandmother used when she called to tell me her church had hired “A lady pastor.”

What is considered undignified, unacceptable, or beyond the scope of what or who God will welcome into God’s house has certainly changed over the years. Consider the controversies over divorced and remarried pastors, or pastors who were also masons. And what about tattooed pastors? What about gay pastors?

What about children at communion? Or infant communion? How do we feel about the un-baptized receiving communion?

What if we extended an invitation to the PADS clients to show up early and worship with us on Sunday mornings?

What if we held services in Spanish once a month and invited our Head Start families?

Since I hear a lot about the parking problem at Bethany, what if we celebrate communion in the parking lot and just invite the whole neighborhood? We could even have a drive-through communion stations under the canopy!

Are you uncomfortable yet?

The truth is, our church sign might say “All are welcome,” but all of us have “elder brother” moments of grumbling about who shows up at the party.

Surely people should be required to dress up for church, like we used to.

Surely that guy won’t get into heaven.

Surely God wouldn’t forgive that sin.

It seems to me the most important thing Jesus teaches us through the parable of the Prodigal Son is how God’s love defies all our notions of formality, respectability, and dignity. When the younger son is crawling back home, what we expect is for the father to stay put and watch him come down the lane. We might imagine that any normal father—even a very loving father—would at least drag out those last few moments. Stand with his arms crossed. Grimace a little bit! We might expect him to convey in some small way that this behavior was simply unacceptable.

But that’s not what happens at all! Instead, the way Jesus tells it, as soon as the father sees his son in the distance, hikes up his robes and runs. He runs, kicking up dust, through the fields, past the servants and the animals. He runs, in a manner unsuited to a man of his status as a landowner and elder. The neighbors are talking, his robes are flapping in the wind, and still the father—our Heavenly Father—keeps on running, until finally he meets that beloved lost child on the road, and enfolds him in his arms.

Friends, this is God’s extravagant, undignified, over-the-top love for you and for all people. God’s embrace is freely given and ever-expanding.

We see the scandal of God’s love for us most clearly when we see Jesus on the cross.

And we experience God’s radical welcome for us here, each time we gather as a community in worship.

Here is where we celebrate that God’s love is beyond human love.

Here is where we sing of a Jesus whose grace is truly amazing.

And here is where we gather to banish the elder brother thoughts that creep in about who is coming to dinner.

Hear again the Good News: God is throwing a party, and it is for you--and you—and you—and especially for those who are not yet here. Amen.