Opportunities abound

March 31, 2019  *  Fourth Sunday in Lent, Year C

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

There are no parts of the Bible I enjoy greater than the parables of Christ.  Not that they’re more important; I just happen to enjoy them more.  And when we think of the parables, certainly a prominent few spring to mind:  The Good Samaritan, The Rich Man and the Beggar, The Sheep and the Goats…and today’s story from the Gospel, the parable of The Prodigal Son.

To set the stage for the telling of this parable, we find Jesus being judged and mocked by the Pharisees and scribes, primarily because of the company Jesus is keeping...to translate the Greek word directly, they were “grumbling”.  Jesus was surrounded by the worst of the worse:  sinners and tax collectors.  He even eats with these low-lifes, we are told.  This simply was unacceptable behavior…this breaking bread with and essentially condoning the lifestyle of these people who had been rejected for working for the enemy and living as “sinners”.  There is popular criticism that the word “sinner” in Luke’s gospel correlates with Gentile, a rejected people whom Jesus spent most of his ministry with.  Either way, it doesn’t have a huge bearing on the parable’s framing.

We see that there is a man, and he has two sons.  We don’t know about his wife, their mother, or if there were any sisters…we just know there is this man with two sons.  One day, out of the blue, the younger son comes to his father and asks for his inheritance, now, so he can hit the road for bigger and better things.  What an unusual request:  inheritances are received after the owner of the property is deceased, no longer having use for it, and passes it on to someone here.  But this son is asking for his early; now, while the father is still living.  He’s asking his father to do without, deprive himself of a third (the eldest son would have been entitled to a double portion vs any other male offspring, and since there were 2 of them, 1/3 to the youngest son and 2/3 to the eldest) and give it to him now.  He’s ready to check out.  So, that’s what the father did.  He gave what still belonged to him to the son.  And true to his word, after taking what the father had given him (a third of what the father needed to live and survive), the youngest son hit the road.

Are you forming opinions around who the father and the son might be, or who you perceive them to be?  Let’s go a little further.

Jesus continues to tell us more about this youngest son.  He traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. 

Matthew Henry’s commentary looks at multiple theologies of the original Greek meanings; the general consensus is, the father was a man of means.  He was quite rich, so when he gives half of his property to his youngest son, the son gets quite a sizable fortune.  And he squandered it in dissolute living.  It seems without the father’s guidance, the young guy went a little wild.  I think here the term “dissolute” or the original loosely translated as “riotous living” is meant to evoke some imagination. 

Growing up, we called this the parable of Jerry Jones.  You see, Jerry Jones was a guy about 10 years older than me that went to our church.  Jerry was miserable living in Lynchburg.  He lothed country life.  He wanted nothing more than to get as far away from the boonies and move to the heart of the largest metropolis he could find.  So when Jerry graduated high school, his parents bought him a brand new car, a new wardrobe for college, he had amassed a small fortune in graduation gifts…all of which he sold and did exactly what this youngest son did; moved to a far and distant land.  This land was called Las Vegas.  I remember when Jerry would write his parents, and they would report to everyone how well Jerry was doing…he was working at one of the casinos, enjoying the good life.  And a few years later, Jerry showed back up in town.  No one recognized him.  His hair was long, unkempt, greying; he was emaciated.  Apparently he had blown through his money in the first year doing things he dare not even speak of…and had spent the last few years working horrible odd jobs and couch surfing.  He was defeated…you could see it on his face, hear it in his voice.  His pride was destroyed…he had failed.

The same fate befell our younger son in today’s parable…we see after the money is gone, this young man takes the absolute worst job in the whole world:  feeding pigs.  Pigs are gross and stinky and eat garbage, but despite all of those things, they were forbidden animals to Hebrew people.  They avoided all association with pigs, at all costs, but here is the man, once of means, now reduced to serving food to pigs, and even coveting the food he is serving them.  He is so hungry he wanted to sneak a bite or two, and we see that no one helped this man out. 

I imagine when the money was flowing, so were the people.  It’s easy to find friends when things are great…even more so when they’ve got a lot to gain from their association with you.  But when the money, drinks, fun and fame are over, so is there presence.  So when this young man finds himself in need, there is no one there to alleviate this need.  All of his “friends” have deserted him, the pigs cared nothing about him, and we all know that employers of menial labor usually aren’t overly generous.

So one day, he had enough.  He simply couldn’t go on like this any longer.  He remembers his father, and his upbringing.  He thinks about the workers in his father’s employ, and how they had food to spare, and here he is dying with hunger.  Clinging to his will to live, a decision is made – I’m going home.  I’ll apologize to my dad, I’ll beg if I have to.  I could never ask him to accept me back in as his son; when I asked for my inheritance, I essentially told him that he was dead to me.  I’ll simply ask for a job.  I’ll ask to be one of the hired servants. 

But his father, when he saw him, ran to him and showered him with love.  And we know that the father squelched the talk of him working as a servant, and threw a party to celebrate the return of his son, whom he loved.

Now the elder son was out in the field working.  He’s doing the responsible, sensible thing.  The thing that was expected of him.  He was adulting, and he had been adulting the whole time the younger brother was away partying his brains out.  The older brother hears music, and comes to investigate.  One of the servants tells him that his brother has come home and their father has butchered the fattened calf for the feast (the best meat). 

Can you see in your head what happened next?  I can!  EYE ROLL OF THE CENTURY.  How do I know?  Because if my personality is like any character in the Bible, it’s this older brother (I’m a dead on Martha too, but that’s for a different sermon).  I always have to do the grown up stuff, be the responsible one, make the decisions, keep the peace, sacrifice for the sake of everyone else….  I’m sure this older brother had dreams of one day getting out and exploring the world, of taking time from his labor to immerse himself in the enjoyment of life, but he just couldn’t.  He had responsibilities he couldn’t walk away from.  He wasn’t like his slacker younger brother who just took everything he wanted and walked away from everything. 

So all of the sudden, there was this massive, overstimulating wave of emotions:  relief, anger, jealousy, confusion….  His brother was back…and their dad is happy for it.  So when the elder son wouldn’t come in and celebrate his brother’s return, the dad went to plead with him.  The father’s joy is shattered by the unwillingness of one brother to celebrate the safe return of the other.  After all this time he thought his family would reunite by the return of his youngest brother, only to have that return cause the other son to distance himself.  He justifies his feelings (as we all try to do) by saying:  all these years I have been faithful to you; I have worked for you, I have stuck by your side, I have comforted you in your sadness, I have done everything you have ever asked of me, but you gave me nothing.  But let your other son return; you know, the son who said you were dead to him and wanted his cut of your estate now, and when you gave it to him, he blew every penny on bad living, and you kill the best calf in the herd for him?  My friends and I couldn’t get even get a goat, but you give him the best calf?  Really dad?  And you’re going to ask me to celebrate the fact that you love him – a looser – more than me?  Have I not done more to deserve more, and yet you give me less?

He responds you are always with me, and everything that is mine is yours.  I celebrate because it’s a good thing that your brother, who was essentially dead to us not being with us, is alive again.  He was lost, and now is found. 

There are so many amazing things here.  And with each reading, each meditation, this parable reveals itself more deeply to us.  This, to me, is a parable of opportunity. 

The youngest brother manipulated the father to get his portion of his father’s wealth early.  The father had the opportunity to say no, but chose to give in to the son’s request.  The elder brother would have easily been able to ask for the same, but we don’t see that he jumped at this opportunity.  Upon failure, the opportunity to return home was always available; just not seized until all other opportunities had passed.  The father had the opportunity to reject the younger son, or comply with his request to simply enter him into employ with the servants, but the father chose to look beyond all other things and welcome the son back.  His brother had the opportunity to rejoice with the father in the return of his brother, but chose to be bitter and salty about it. 

Jesus had the opportunity to join the ranks of the Pharisees and Scribes; his knowledge of the texts and the law would have given him the upper hand, and the opportunity to lead this elite group.  Instead, he seized the opportunity to dine with sinners, gentiles, tax collectors…the dregs of society.  The worst of the worst. 

Opportunities abound; every day.  Some days I’m the younger brother…I fail to seize opportunities in moderation.  I live life too big.  I fail.  My pride is bigger than anything else in my life.  I deprive others of opportunities.  I stray and am too ashamed to come back.  Some days I’m the older brother…taking the opportunities in responsibility but instead of rejoicing in them, viewing them as a burden.  Missing other opportunities for reconciliation, choosing spite instead.  Feeling entitled due to my dedication.  Some days I’m the father…some days I’m able to look beyond all the things our culture would have me embrace, to leave the past in the past, and seize the opportunities for love, and caring, and forgiveness, continually seeking those who have strayed.

Opportunities abound; do you see them?  Are you constantly looking, and searching?  Or are you fixated on the next great thing?  Or are you so burdened down with responsibility?

This season of Lent we are invited to take a closer, deeper look at our choices; and today, we focus on our opportunities.  I bring you this message in the name of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. 

Cause and Effect

March 24, 2019  *  Luke 13:1-9

Have you ever pondered the question, “why do bad things happen to good people”?  We all have.  Most of us also have been the “good people” that others have referred to when they asked that question.  Bad things happen…it’s a fact of life.  We see in today’s gospel lesson that this question was present at the time of Christ, and even before.

Let’s take a look at what Luke would have us understand in today’s lesson.

Immediately prior to today’s encounter, Jesus warned that he came not to bring peace, but division.  Immediately after today’s lesson, Jesus is criticized by a temple leader for healing on the sabbath.  Today’s lesson (which is 2 stories and a parable) begins with some of the people who had gathered telling Jesus about what happened to some of the Galileans who had brought sacrifices to the temple and how their blood had become mingled with the sacrifices by Pilot.  This escaped me at first.  Then in the commentary I saw it plainly spelled out:  Pilate’s soldiers had slaughtered these Galileans in this holy place of worship and atonement.  There was now human blood and sacrificial animal blood on the desecrated altar. 

Can you imagine walking in this church, and seeing such a horror?  While we can only imagine in terror, there are some places of worship, both here and abroad, who don’t have to imagine;  they’ve lived through the horror of seeing the carpets stained with blood mingled with communion wine.  The 16^th Street Baptist Church bombing which resulted in the loss of the lives of 4 young girls, the shooting at the Mother Emanuel AME church and the 8 lives lost there, the shooting at Burnette Chapel in Antioch not 2 years ago, and just last week a man killed 50 people and injured 50 more in New Zealand.  And these are just the ones that come to mind in recent memory…there are dozens more.  All of them people, just like us, who come together in peace to worship, pray, fellowship, sing…people who came together for good…and bad (horrible) things happened to those gathered.

So when Jesus was being told of the horrible thing that had happened, they wholly expected Jesus to respond the same way we would…by saying horrible things about Pilate (or any of the “victim-culture” responses ranging from “those blasted Romans” to “let’s drive them out”).  But…that’s not how he responds. 

His unexpected rebuttal was “do you think these Galileans were worse sinners than others, because of what befell them?”.  Essentially:  did they get what they deserved?  He is addressing the unspoken assumption that these Galileans had not just sinned, but had sinned egregiously…extra especially bad with sprinkles on top and a bag of chips or whatever the kids are saying nowadays.  That was shocking to hear Jesus say…but he only said what everyone else was thinking.

So why were they thinking that?  Let’s ponder that for a bit; as we reflect on the history found in the Old Testament, it isn’t a far stretch to see how they would correlate disobedience to God and punishment from God.  They disobeyed so many times…sooooooo many times…and the prophets would foretell the wrath to come, and when they didn’t straighten up, BAM:  wrath.  Conquered and forced into captivity, bound to slavery, plagued by drought and famine, fiery serpents and angels of destruction…it’s all there.  So it really isn’t hard to see why they thought these Galileans had done something pretty bad to meet their end the way they did.

But, true to the warning prior to this lesson that Jesus didn’t come to bring peace but division, he tells them this is not the case.  He explains that they will all meet the same fate unless they repent.  This is of little comfort…because they found solace in linking sin with suffering…the explanation eliminates randomness and offers us a way to avoid the disasters we see others suffering through.  It’s important to note that Jesus is not condemning these gathered, but shows them the way.  The ways of old are passed.  Through this new way, this way of personal repentance and turning away, redemption awaits. 

This is a courageous response on the part of Christ.  It’s amazing that the people gathered didn’t attack him on the spot.  Think about it.  These were people who had been subjugated, kicked around, abused…they view themselves as victims.  And reasonably so, had adopted this victim-culture thought pattern, which would have viewed the lack of sympathy as essentially taking the side of the enemy in this polarized environment (you know…kind of like having to choose between right and left, conservative and liberal, pro-choice or pro-life…and if you’re pro-choice then you MUST be pro-abortion; does that help with the visual)?

Then Jesus turns the tables with he brings up another tragedy that befell another group of gathered people, when a tower (the tower of Siloam) fell on 18 people and killed them.  This was an accident; but by the logic of those gathered speaking with Jesus, surely they must have also done something awful to have met such a fate…a tall building falling on them.  This is cause and effect…as misguided as it was.

Repentance (not condemnation) is the major theme in this gospel lesson (and throughout the gospel of Luke actually).  Repentance is not a nagging call, but a promise of salvation.  It offers us hope instead of a way to escape the fear of retribution. 

Jesus ends today with a parable:  A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard.  He came to see the fruit it had brought forth, but it hadn’t.  For three years the man kept coming back, hoping to harvest figs from this tree, and for three years the tree remained barren.  The man told the gardener to cut the tree down…no longer will be a wasted plot of soil.  But the gardener advocated for the tree; give it one more year.  Let me tend to the soil around it, fortifying it and enriching it with nutrients and food.  If it bears fruit it stays; if not, then you may cut it down.  Give it one more chance.

When bad things happen to good people, it tugs at our heartstrings.  We feel pity, sadness, all sorts of feelings of compassion, sympathy, and empathy.  It’s natural. 

But what do we feel when bad things happen to bad people?  Let’s take a look at the people we have judged as “bad”.  We’ve all done it.  The homeless person, dirty and in threadbare clothes, covered up with newspapers on the roadside bench.  What choices did they make in their life that brought them to this point?  What had they done?  Certainly they deserved to be in their current predicament.  Maybe they chose to be homeless.  Some people like it, you know.  Some people would rather life that type of life.  Or what about the person who has been sick for so long, and finally worked up the courage to go to the free clinic in town, and it turns out she’s HIV positive.  After her husband left she had to do something to feed, clothe, and shelter her children, so she turned to prostitution after being turned down from dozens of jobs.  Did she not choose to get HIV?  Or the drug addict whose life was cut short by overdose.  What else did they expect?  Maybe they’re better off…they aren’t battling those demons any longer.  It has to be a relief on the family.

The things we tell ourselves to feel good about the judgement we cast.  Cause and effect.  Duality.  And these scenerios are a mixed bag; on one hand, it is true that the end result is a direct outcome of the decision made…on the other hand, the end result is not a punishment for the decision made. 

I grew up with the theology of the “The Will of God”.  And this “Will” was a mysterious thing that you dare not try to understand.  I was reminded of it not too long ago…let me elaborate.  When my niece was born prematurely at 28 weeks, we were terrified to say the least.  There were 2 other preemies born that day, about the same gestational age, with the same statistical odds for survival and/or complications.  Knowing that, when we would pray for my niece, we would pray for baby A and baby B, for their health, prosperity, and vitality.  Six days later, baby B goes into cardiac arrest and dies.  We were there when it happened, and the buzz of the room was “it was God’s will”…”God needed another angel”….  Having removed myself from this indoctrination from my upbringing, this immediately made my stomach flip and the hair on the back of my neck stand up. 

In this cause and effect framework, what did that baby do to bring this on themselves?  What decisions had been made which resulted in death?  If we remove this cause and effect mindset and strictly go with the “Will of God” theology, then were we really advocating the thought that God killed this baby and allowed the other two to live?  That the will of God was to cause pain, and inflict grief?  The rebuttal, of course, being that God would use this death to bring glory to God, somehow, somewhere; you may never see it, but there’s a reason. 

The people in Jesus’ time believed this, because it’s all they knew.  But Jesus was here to change things…to chart the course for a new way.

God doesn’t cause bad things.  God doesn’t take your loved ones.  God doesn’t cause car wrecks, cancer, bankruptcy, incarceration, homelessness, rape, murder…the list never exhausts of the things God doesn’t do to us.   In our world, things are in motion…one of those things is free will.  Have you ever heard the saying “for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction”?  Well, if you walk out into traffic, you will get run over.  God didn’t cause that.  If you walk off a cliff, you will land at the bottom and become a splat on the rocks.  God didn’t cause that.  If you don’t study for a test you will likely make a bad grade.  God didn’t cause that.  God didn’t allow the deaths of all those people in those places of worship we spoke of at the beginning of the lesson because they were all a part of a “greater plan”.  They died because someone used their free will and made the decision to end their lives.

While God is in control of all things, God isn’t in the business of watching us suffer.  That’s not who God is.  But, God knows we will make some bonehead decisions.  We will fail to “bear fruit” to compare it to that fig tree.  And when we make those bonehead decisions and bad things befall us, God hopes we see the need for repentance and spares us the condemnation.  We are given one more chance…one after another….  And for these chances, for this opportunity of repentance, as hard and gruesome as it may be, we are ever thankful.