Luke 15:1-32
“Lost Sons”
19 March 2017 St. Andrew’s
Military Chapel Singapore
There once was a
stereotypical American nuclear family. Mom, dad, two kids, pets, a house with a
white picket fence. Actually, they were fairly well off financially. They had
employees that came to the house to complete the household chores and to help with
the family business. But, despite outward appearances, not all was well in
suburbia. One day the younger son has a moment of rebellion and tells the
family he wants his share of the family fortune so he can set out on his own.
Reluctantly, the family gives in and lets the rebellious son blaze his own
path.
When he decided to
leave, the younger son, in a fit of jealousy, immaturity, and ignorance tells
his father to die. Not in those exact words, but by asking for his share of the
inheritance he has told the father he’d rather see dear ole dad in the grave. The
father grants the request and the son heads off into the sunset.
For a long time, the
son is living the life. He settled in Vegas and is enjoying all sin city has to
offer a young, wealthy, single, rebellious young adult. The young son is living
it up without a care in the world. Every night is a scene from the movie The
Hangover. Then the money runs out. He hits proverbial rock bottom. He realizes
that his father’s migrant workers (whom he probably ridiculed growing up) have
a better life. He has one option left to live, go home. So, after years of
partying and not caring about anything, including himself, he comes to his
senses, and with that comes deep regret and remorse for what he has sown.
He’s got the apology
all worked out and is ready to take his lumps and become a hired hand to the
father he disowned many years ago. When the now destitute son returns home his
father rushes out to greet his son and throws the party of the year. Whaaat?
Would we welcome a strung out or alcoholic child who told us to die on their
way out the door back in that manner? Without ever asking: Where have you been
all this time? How are you doing? Why are you back?
Just then, the second
son, who has been silently going about keeping the family business profitable,
re-enters the story. And he is none too happy at dear ole dad for spending
money on and treating the one who disowned the family with such love and
respect. I’m sure, like many of us today, the neighbors are nodding their heads
in agreement with the older son. The annoying little brother didn’t want to be
a part of the family, so let him keep on walking and figure it out on his own.
But, the father looks
at his eldest with sad eyes and says, “You have everything I own. What more do
you want? Your brother was lost and now he is back, we have to rejoice at this
miracle. Haven’t I taught you anything?”
Parables are always
dangerous to read. We easily find ourselves in the story as one of the
characters. This pulls us deeper into the fabric of the story. As we become
more and more interested in the story because of our connection with one of the
characters, we begin to get a bit nervous.
Sometimes we are the
younger son, struggling to find our way or in the midst of making bad decisions
for ourselves without regard to consequences. Sometimes we are lost without
anyone beside us by our own choice. Sometimes we find ourselves at the end of
our rope and are desperately looking for a place to turn. Sometimes we are lost
and alone, which can be worse than death. If you relate more with the younger
son, the church is called to be here for you, to welcome you with open arms.
Here you will find rest. And grace.
Many times, however,
we find ourselves in the role of the older brother. One of my seminary
professors, Richard Lischer has written, “The elder son is the Good Christian
from the Bible belt, or the liberal Episcopalian, Presbyterian, or Lutheran,
who is baffled and not a little irritated by the rising authority of churches
in the Global South. The elder son shakes his head at his own congregation’s
embrace of people he has always disapproved of… The elder son is the best of us
at our very worst.” If you are the elder son, the church is called to be here
for you, to welcome you with open arms. Here you will find forgiveness. And
grace.
If you ask random
people on the street which character reflects the church in America, you’d
probably hear them describe us as the older brother. In fact, the church in
America has a reputation of being the older brother by excluding those whose
appearance or behavior we find appalling. But, isn’t the younger brother the
one the church should be there for? We are called to welcome everyone
regardless of what is going on in their lives. We are called to be like this
father and rejoice at the return of someone from the brink. We are called to
offer love and grace without qualification.
If being lost is
worse than death, shouldn’t there be a place where people can be found? Where
people are free to be themselves and find true relationship? A hospital where
every sinner can go for healing?
It’s supposed to be
us, but because of some stances we as the church universal have taken over the
years, people view us at best as a club for good people and, at worst, as a
gathering of cynical hypocrites. The book UnChristian looks at this issue. One
of the young adults they interviewed describes the church as, “Christianity has
become bloated with blind followers who would rather repeat slogans than
actually feel true compassion and care. Christianity has become marketed and
streamlined into a juggernaut of fearmongering that has lost its own heart.”
Sounds like the older brother.
But, there is a way
out of that. There is a way to be the church again. We need to look at what
this father can teach us and then go and be like this grace filled father. First,
we need to shift the gaze of those watching us to the grace offered within our
family. When grace is equally offered to all, because we are all in desperate
need of grace, then the reason we seek grace doesn’t matter. This father
successfully shifted the focus from the sons to the grace he offered both. To
the younger son he offered restoration and relationship. To the older he
offered the grace of reconciliation. Both are necessary for us to fully live.
The father demonstrates
the abundant nature of grace. When the older brother complains about the
unfairness of restoring the younger brother (whom he always refers to as “your
son”), the father asks, “what more do you want? You are always with me and
everything I have is yours.” Let’s quit worrying about the amount of grace
someone else receives. Christ has provided us the grace we need, and some of us
need a bit more grace in our lives. Remember that a slave trader wrote arguably
the most memorable hymn ever. There is plenty of grace to go around and we
don’t need to hoard it for fear of a shortage.
Because grace isn’t a
finite resource we are encouraged to freely spread grace throughout the world.
Everyone needs a different amount and type of grace. Sometimes we spread that
grace through generously giving of our time, talent, or treasure. Sometimes we
show grace through a simple smile, hello, or a much needed phone call from
afar. Other times, we provide grace through prayers of intercession on behalf
of those we know and love, and even for those we have never met or can’t stand.
Grace is abundant and
pre-paid at a dear cost, so we can’t let it go to waste. The younger brother
saw and accepted that grace and will most likely shower that grace sowing seeds
he’ll never see grow. The older brother, in withholding grace from those who he
deems unworthy is, in fact, rejecting the grace he so desperately needs. Let us
look for where we need to accept grace. Then, we can liberally share that grace
to those who we think don’t really deserve it. In this way we will be a
free-flowing fountain of grace from Christ to the world.
You can listen to sermons from St. Andrew's Military Chapel here.
Just create a login and download sermons at your convenience.
No comments:
Post a Comment