“A Fool for Love” Sermon on March 14, 2010
March 14, 2010
Scripture: Luke 15: 1-3, 11-32
Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” So he told them this parable:
“There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’ So he divided his property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. But when he came to himself he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”’ So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate. “Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.’ Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’ Then the father said to him, ‘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.’”
Sermon: A Fool for Love
by Rev. Doreen Oughton
Don’t you just love this parable? There is so much to identify with – the self-centered young man with his sense of entitlement, wanting to cast out on his own. Can you hear him as he asks his father, not humbly, but defensively, for his inheritance. “I’m going to get it eventually, it’s really mine. Why not give it to me now when it will help me get out of this hick town, see the world and make my own fortune?” And can’t you imagine all the feelings the father has, the hurt and heartbreak that his son wants to leave home? Why does he want to do that, he’s lived well, he has been well-loved here? Mixed with defensiveness and anger – “Fine, fine. If that’s what he wants, that’s what he’ll get. He’ll find out, he’ll find out how good he had it here.” And that whole sibling rivalry thing, the good child / bad child dynamic. We all know that one even if we have no siblings. And don’t we really know the arc that the younger son’s life takes – the excitement of being out on your own, of having the power to make your own decisions, and the money to spoil yourself, see what it means to live it up. The new friends, new experiences. So exciting and heady. And don’t we know the knot that grows in the stomach as the funds dwindle away, as it gets harder and harder to find steady work to replace them – the panic of seeing the new friends slip away, the new possessions hawked just to survive, the feelings of shame about not making it, the fear and isolation of being in a foreign land that is in a drought, the painful thought that you may just have to go home and ask for help.
Just so that everyone is clear, what does the scripture say about why the son decided to return home? It wasn’t for missing his old lifestyle or his family or the love he had there. It wasn’t a flash of insight about how wrong he had been, or wanting to clear up a burden of guilt. No, it was because he was starving and remembered that his father’s hired hands had plenty to eat. He wanted food. It doesn’t say he wanted to go back and be part of the family. Perhaps he did, but assumed that wasn’t an option. But maybe not. Maybe his quest for independence was so strong that he hoped only to earn enough to survive by working for the family. On the trip back he thought about how he would approach his father, maybe rehearsed the words over and over again, trying to get just the right note to persuade his father to hire him.
Jesus doesn’t tell in his story what the parents have been through since he’s been gone. We are left to imagine that ourselves. Had they been angry, perhaps worried? How did they handle the gossip and comments of people in the village? Did the son keep in touch? Did they know he was in the country that was hit by famine? Did they half expect him to come home? Did they talk about what they would do if he did return? Did they also rehearse the scene over and over in their heads? And in that scene they imagined, was it anything at all like the one that took place?
I play scenes in my head all the time. Rehearse my reactions, imagine how things will go. And I must admit, I think if I was the parent in this story, my imaginary reaction wouldn’t quite play out this way. I’d like the groveling of the son, sure, and eventually I’d show that unconditional big love, but right away like that? Without even one manipulative hurt face look to make him squirm more? I don’t think I could do it. I’d have to throw in that “do you know what you’ve put us through!” Or “not so easy out there on your own, is it?” I certainly wouldn’t be heaping fine robes and jewelry on this child who has proven himself so immature, so untrustworthy. I’d want to see him earn that trust back over time. For all I know he could enjoy the fatted calf, fill his belly and take off to hawk the ring and have another adventure. Wouldn’t you pause before throwing him a party? But this guy can’t even wait for his other son to come in from the fields! Now that is some powerful unconditional love.
And although the older brother is not exactly a sympathetic character in the story, I know he is very relatable. Don’t we worry all the time about people getting things they don’t deserve, while we, hard-working, do-the-right-thing people seem to get the shaft. Why should that one get bailed out when I’ve sacrificed to make my mortgage payments? Why should financial aid pay for college for children of illegal immigrants when my own kids can’t get it and my family has been here for generations, and those parents broke the law. They’re just being rewarded for bad behavior. It’s just not right, is it? And yet Jesus holds this brother out as a negative example. Don’t be like this guy. Don’t rebuff the party! Go, be part of the rejoicing. There is a homecoming, a reconciliation.
So yes, this is a rich and multi-layered story to our 21st century ears. Much to ponder in our hearts. But in my research, I came across an essay by Barbara Brown Taylor that talked about what life was like in first century Palestine, how this story would have sounded to the people Jesus told it to. Let me share with you.
In that time and place, most of the people were rural farmers, like the family in the parable. They received the land they worked in trust from their ancester and held it in trust for their children. They didn’t have records kept in a public place, the claims on the land were kept and honored by the memory of the community. Without the community respect and trust, the property lines might be forgotten and lost. So it meant everything to be and have good neighbors. People depended on each other for their livelihood and well-being, getting the crops in before a storm, raising a barn, digging a grave, all of it. Your children married their children and the bonds of kinship strengthened.
Individuality meant very little. Identity came from being part of a family – family name, family history, reputation, etc. And in this day and age, it is very hard to really get what it meant to be the patriarch of a clan, the enormous honor owed to him, and the ways that he keeps that honor. They had a certain standing, and so followed certain codes. They gave the orders. Maybe they did it nicely, but they did it. They didn’t ask for input, or try to reason with their children. They told them what to do, and the children were expected to obey. So to the people who were there with Jesus, listening to his story, this father was weak, unable to control his rebellious sons, sacrificing his honor. Jesus’ message wasn’t just about unconditional love and a joyous homecoming, it is about the high cost of reconciliation. It is a message about the father’s willingness to pay this cost. It is about his willingness to be a fool for love and peace and reconciliation.
The first cost comes with the father agrees to give the youngest his inheritance. Because we are not talking about a bank withdrawal, taking money out of trust. We are talking about breaking up the estate, and about depriving the family of land and of one more worker for it. It will effect what is left for heirs in generations to come. It means there is one less son to care for the parents in their old age. Ms. Taylor says it is like losing a kidney. It usually takes two to ensure survival for an elderly couple or a widow.
And the costs continue, with the family’s reputation harmed. The neighbors wonder what kind of patriarch would allow the family farm to be carved up, sold off. What is wrong with this young man that would so shame his family, that doesn’t understand the value of the land. They don’t know how to respond to the father – whether to shun him or pity him. But he makes them uncomfortable so he is not invited to the parties anymore. The gossip lasts for awhile. How could this boy ever make it up to his family. Maybe by coming back rich, with gifts for everyone in town, hosting feasts and buying back the lost land and then some.
But this is not what happens, is it? He doesn’t come back a success, ready to make it up to his family and the entire village. As BBT says, he might as well have used his birth certificate to light an Italian cigar. His behavior has been so reprehensible that the Jewish teachings describe a ceremony to punish a Jewish boy for losing the family inheritance to Gentiles. The ceremony officially cuts him off from his people, his tribe. He would belong nowhere, to no one. When the villagers see him, all they have to do is fill a large earthenware jug with burnt nuts and corn, break it in front of him and shout his name. Do you think someone in the village might have gathered the nuts and corn in the jug shortly after he left?
It may have occurred to the son that such a fate awaits him. He won’t get any job on the farm if the cutting off ceremony happens, so he hopes to reach and appeal to his father before anyone else gets to him. His father wouldn’t do that to him, would he?
And he makes it. Was it just happenstance that his father saw him far off, or was he tipped off and on the look out for him? And what does he do, he runs to him. Very un-patriarchal of him, really. Very undignified. Can you imagine running in those long robes, in sandals, the robes getting caught between your legs. Must have looked ridiculous. Runs right up and embraces this young man. Kisses him right there on the road, where anyone could see him. And maybe it’s not just an act of affection, but one of protection. He sends the message that will soon spread through the village, don’t cut him off, he’s mine. Same with the rushed party. He wants to let everyone know that his family is whole again. The whole village is invited to be reconciled with this young man. The son will be restored, the family will be restored, honor will be restored. Bringing everyone together is more important to this man than his honor, more important than his ability to look and live the part of a good and honorable patriarch, more than being seen as a good and strong father. But it costs him all those things.
And then his older son’s reaction costs him more. Another rebellion that the father deals with in a very un-patriarchal way. He pleads his case. He leaves his guests. He stands out on the porch with his son and waits. He doesn’t give him a disapproving look and go back inside. He doesn’t order him to do anything. He doesn’t even point out all that it has cost him to work out this reconciliation, doesn’t guilt trip him. He just waits, protects him from the gossip of the villagers at the party, even though his heart may be breaking. A fool for love, for reconciliation.
So why is Jesus telling this story? What does he want from his listeners, or for his listeners? What is he telling us about his father, about our father? What does it cost him to invite us over and over again to be reconciled? What does it cost him to let us take our inheritance and use it to assert our individuality, to make our own way without regard for our family? What does it cost him to stand with us out on the porch while we stew in the unfairness of things? What might it cost us to work for reconciliation, to protect our tribe, to find the lost and bring them home? Are we willing to find out? Are we willing to take the best robe and the family ring? Are we willing to step off the porch and into the celebration? Are we willing to be fools for love?
Now just my little caution – I’m not talking about being a fool for romantic love, letting someone mistreat you and leave you and beg them to come back to do it some more. I’m talking about restorative love, the love that heals and builds up. It will cost you, but it won’t destroy you, it won’t suck the soul out of you. You can go to the banquet as you are, but you won’t stay that way. It will change you. You might not be clear anymore about who is right and who is wrong, who is the good child and who is the bad child, what it means to be weak or strong. But you will be home, together with your family, your tribe, your people. The banquet is there, the invitation is open.
