Sunday Sermon - 30 March
Janice and I had a wonderful time away. During the first week we camped in a tent on an island that has the record for being the rainiest place on earth. It rained every night and often during the day, too. And it was awesome. For the last five days of our vacation we stayed at a resort and enjoyed hosting Janice’s brother and his wife. One night we stayed up late talking about church, church history, theology, and religion.
My sister-in-law was raised in a very conservative Christian household. She wasn’t allowed to date, to attend school dances, or engage in many of the typical teenage fun or yes, antics that teenagers typically get into. She went to church regularly and she read the bible with her family every night. Her father was the patriarch of the household and they were good, literally God fearing, people.
As we talked she told me a story of how, when she was reading her bible and her father was talking about forgiveness of sin, she asked her mother this question (bear in mind that I am paraphrasing): “Mom, how come I can’t go to dances and I have to abide by all of these religious rules and yet people who only need to ask for God’s forgiveness after they’ve done all of this sinning get to go to heaven, just like me? What’s the point of me being a good Christian when the end result is the same for everyone else?”
My sister-in-law didn’t exactly remember her mother’s response but the gist of it, she recalls, was that her mother felt that those who ‘sinned’ in this life, even those that asked for forgiveness in the latter years of their life, were still destined to hell. The true and real Christians, like them, are the only ones who will ultimately end up in heaven. She impressed upon her daughter that the sinful acts of dancing, partying, etc. would be her spiritual demise, according to the tenets of their Christian beliefs, if she chose to disregard her parents’ and Church’s rules.
Which brings me to why I share this story about our late night chat with you all this morning.
The parable of the Prodigal Son, one of the more popular and well known stories of the Bible, parallels exactly with my sister-in-law’s question of her mother and, interestingly enough, her mother’s response.
The parable is pretty straightforward. We have three main characters: The Father, The Prodigal Son and, for the lack of a better name, the ‘good’ and obedient elder Son. It is generally accepted that the character of the Father is meant to be God, the Prodigal Son is meant to be the sinful person, and the Good Son is meant to be the obedient Christian. But, for me, this is an oversimplification of the depth of meaning that is buried in Jesus’ parable so I’d like to dig into this a little deeper and spiritually investigate this parable through a different lens, the lens or point of view that Paul refers to in his letter to the Corinthians we read this morning - Not through a human point of view but through the reconciled perspective of being made anew in Christ - a spiritual perspective.
Who are you in this story? Who do you most see yourself reflected in the parable of the Prodigal Son?
Perhaps you most identify with the Good Son, the elder boy who has saved his inheritance, worked hard in the fields, and followed the rules of the household. He remained committed to his family and its values and now, upon his brother’s celebrated return, feels a bit diminished and taken for granted.
Perhaps you most identify with the Prodigal Son who squandered his inheritance on sinful acts and illicit behaviours, returning impoverished, sheepishly defeated, penitent, and apologetic for misspending his father’s wealth. A repentant sinner seeking God’s forgiveness.
Or, perhaps you most identify with the Father, the one who has the power of judgment to either cast out his sinful son or embrace him, forgive him, and welcome him back home with a big celebration. The one sitting in the judgement seat.
Now, you might be saying to yourself, “Hang on! The Father figure is supposed to be God and only God has the power to judge who is destined to hell and who gets to be saved.” I agree. That is the intended point in this passage, but let’s be both honest and realistic - humans are very quick to judge the sinful acts and nature of others. In many cases, we simply can’t help ourselves. Which is why my sister-in-law’s question to her mother came to mind for me this morning and why I ask, can you sometimes identify with the one who judges the sinful nature of others?
My sister-in-law's mother, in my opinion, misunderstood her responsibility as a Christian. It is God’s place, and God’s place only, to judge but, like the Father in the parable, it is our responsibility to forgive, accept, and to love unconditionally rather than judging.
As Christians, heck as humans, we do have a tendency to judge others, to look down on those who ‘in our eyes’ are not worthy to enter into the Kingdom of God. But it’s not our place. Who are we to think we have the power of judgement? Being Christian, being an Anglican, makes us no better or worse than any other human being that walks this earth.
My sister-in-law, by asking her mother that question about sinners going to heaven, reflects the point of view of the brother, the ‘Good Son’ who feels taken for granted. Many of us, God fearing - no God loving - obedient Christians may feel the same way. But again, it is not our place to judge, to presuppose God’s will. Rather, it is our place to, like the Father, embrace. As Christians it is our responsibility to reach out to those who are lost in life and who could be perceived of as sinners to let them know that they are loved, that they are worthy of our love, and to invite them back into the family.
I contend that at different times throughout our life’s journey we can identify with everyone in this parable. Which is what makes it so very powerful.
I know that there are moments in my life when I identify with the Prodigal Son. I’ve made poor choices that could be, or in fact are, sinful. I’ve been lost as I travel along my journey in life and I am grateful to have the opportunity to acknowledge my mistakes and to make confession to God (every Sunday with our general confession, and sometimes even in private confession) in order to be fully and wholly reunited with our God.
I know that there are moments in my life when I identify with the Good Son. I try hard to be the Christian God calls me to be and then when I see others either exploiting our tradition or behaving in ways that puts them above me in what could be called a ‘hierarchy of God’s chosen’, I find myself both angry and even a bit jealous, asking myself misguided questions like why are they considered more worthy than me? Why am I not good enough for God?
Sadly, I am also aware of those moments in my life when I feel wrongly empowered to exercise the judgement that only rests in God’s authority. When I put myself in the judgement seat, a seat I don’t belong in, and easily cast judgement over others. This is a character trait I have absolutely no time for. I’ve worked hard to not be this person but every once in a while, when I’m really affronted by someone, I fall into this sin of being judgmental. It’s not a trait I’m proud of, this religious superiority complex, and I work hard to suppress that attitude when I feel it arising within me.
It is only natural, as part of our human condition, to have these moments. Moments of jealousy, moments of being judgmental, moments of being sinful and, hopefully, moments of being repentant. This is the circle of life for Christians - to constantly strive to be the people God calls us to be. To always work on becoming our best selves.
In conclusion, I’m reminded of a saying, perhaps you’ve heard it.
A parent is only as happy as their saddest child.
This little truism resonates with us this morning. Imagine that father, who is challenged by his good son, his eldest boy, who seeks to understand why, after all of his hard work and dedication to his family, it is his sinful brother who is most celebrated. His father (the beautiful way this is written allows you to hear the love in his voice) says;
Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But 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.
This is a parent who gave everything he had to his boys. Who clearly loved them. One stayed close and one left - lost, gone, and counted for as dead by his father. How much pain and sorrow that father must have had to bear. Then, miraculously, the boy returns. Even if you don’t have a child you can imagine the depth of sorrow that loss must have been, and the overwhelming joy his return would invoke.
A parent is only as happy as their saddest child. Let me rephrase this - God is only as happy as his saddest child. We are God’s children. God is love and loves us, unconditionally, like a parent. God came to us as Christ to show his love for us - sacrificed for us - just like any parent would do for their children, to save us from our own sin and suffering. Some of us stay on the homestead and keep the faith but God doesn’t take us for granted. He loves and appreciates our faithfulness. Some of us lose our way, we stray, and when we return sorry for our misdoings, God loves us, forgives us and welcomes us back to our family of faith.
The point is, we can never, ever, be resentful of the sinful who have returned nor can we be the ones in judgement of deciding who is worthy to return. Our role, our purpose as followers of Christ is simple - we are to do the best we can. We are to help the lost, love those who are stranded in sin, and bring them back home with us to God.
Amen.