standing at mercy's door

from a sermon given at Shalom Mennonite Church
Sunday, March 14, 2010 - 4th Sunday of Lent
Text: Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

an excerpt from the reading:

^{26272829303132}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.”

This second half of the parable leaves us
with an unfinished story.
It leaves me wondering, hoping that
there might be another celebration
and another feast table set
once the elder brother decides to come home.

The story ends with the elder brother
standing outside the door of the home,
unable to enter - in his own way, a prodigal.

He is angry, resentful, and confused.
Nothing about this moment seems fair.
It's almost as if he is standing there
and seeing the truth of his home and
his father for the very first time;
and he's not so sure that he wants any part of it.

The complaint to his father reveals his pain,
and his perception of home.
For him, home is a place of duty and a
place of responsibilities that must be fulfilled.
If you fulfill your duties, and makes the right choices,
you should be rewarded.
If you do not, and you make the wrong choices,
you should be punished.

He has done the right thing.
He has stayed home
and has been the responsible son.
His brother is the one who has strayed
and betrayed their father.
So, why is everything backwards?
Why is there a party rather than punishment?
Why is he the one standing outside?
"It's not fair!" he cries.

Notice how he refers to his brother as
"that son of yours," when talking
to his father in this angry moment.
Perhaps the language indicates the
separation he now feels from his family.

Then notice the father's language
as he refers to the younger sibling as
"this brother of yours" when talking
to the elder son.
Perhaps the language indicates the
father's desire to reunite the sons.

Perhaps in this moment, standing outside
the door of his home, the elder son
is not able to fully accept or understand
his father's words when he hears
the message of mercy and welcome:
"Son, I am always with you.
What is mine, is yours."

Luke begins this section of the gospel
by describing the way some Pharisees and scribes
were upset by the way Jesus was hanging out
with "all the tax collectors and sinners" (15:1-3).
Immediately following this statement
we hear the parable of the lost coin,
the parable of the lost sheep,
and then the Parable of the Prodigal Son.

It may be that Luke understood Jesus
as telling this story against those pious religious
leaders who were unhappy with his choice
of friends and companions.
So, perhaps the elder brother
reflects something of the spirit
of those Pharisees and scribes.

This can certainly be extended on through history -
this is a timeless, human story after all! -
to include religious folk here and now.
We in the church can be much like that elder son
when we assume the church to primarily be
a "house" of duty and responsibility,
a community in which we are measured
by whether or not we do the right thing:
those who do are rewarded,
those who do not are punished.

When we look beyond ourselves
and complain about and judge others
as being beyond the bounds of mercy - ours or God's -
then we are very much like that older brother
whose sense of justice is not tempered by mercy.

Even beyond and beneath this, though,
there is a way in which this story strikes
deep within each of us on a personal level.
We each possess the capacity to see
the world through the eyes of the elder son,
as a place of duty and responsibility,
as a place where the right are rewarded
and the wrong are punished.
And it is terribly tempting, with such a worldview,
to place ourselves squarely on the side of the right.
Then, when life does not turn out the way
we think it should, we assume that
we are the ones who have been wronged.

To know where the elder prodigal resides in you,
simply pay attention to the moments in a day
when you find yourself moving into
complaint about someone else,
judgments about someone else,
blaming someone else,
or strong feelings of resistance toward someone else.
Often these indicate places of fear or hurt within us,
places where we feel we have been wronged
or where life seems unfair.

It isn't easy to pay attention to this within ourselves.
It isn't easy to stand where the older brother stands
at the end of this story, and see how the father's mercy
extends way beyond anything that seems
just or reasonable.

We might notice that the father does not tell the elder
brother that he must forget or even immediately forgive
all the mistakes that the younger brother has made.
He simply wishes to welcome him through the door
and to find a seat at the feast table, too.

The message is clearly given to each of us from God:
"I am always with you.
What is mine, is yours."

By the tender mercy and patient love of God,
may the homecoming celebrations continue on.