12 September 2010

Exodus 32:7-14
Psalm 51:1-10
1 Timothy 1:12-17
Luke 15:1-10

You know the answer to the question, right? “Which one of you would leave ninety-nine perfectly good sheep all alone in the wilderness with all its perils and go after the lost one – and finding it wouldn’t run around bragging to everybody about what you’ve just done?” The answer, of course, is none of you in your right mind. Same with the crazy lady who finds her lost penny and then throws a party over finding it. And we’re not sure which is more ridiculous – leaving ninety-nine sheep in the wilderness to go after one – or running around telling everyone just how stupid and irresponsible you were risking the ninety-nine good sheep for one who didn’t have enough sense to stay with the flock. But the riddle of the lost sheep and the riddle of the lost coin are just a couple of warm-up routines for the main attraction in this chapter of Luke’s gospel – the story of a wild young son, a thoroughly odd father, and a supposedly obedient older brother.

Of course, the compilers of the lectionary, those who determine what gets read and when, decided to end this morning’s reading before the main act – so a little refresher may be in order. Once upon a time, a spoiled young son – his pathetic, self-centered mind set entirely on his own entitlement – asks daddy for his inheritance a few years early, before the old man dies. That takes a whole lot of chutzpah – or else the younger son knows his father is easily conned. And sure enough, dad liquidates half of the farm and gives the substantial proceeds to sonny boy who the runs off with the loot. The bratty man-child soon spends it all – whether on booze and boys; wine, women, and song; or up in Central City on the hundred-dollar slots – it doesn’t matter, the end is the same. Kiddo is penniless and with no one to blame but himself. Then, after some time slopping around with the hogs and/or turning tricks in Cheesman Park, our once-strapping young lad hits bottom and decides to go back home and strike a bargain with the old man. “Father, if you take me back, I’ll work hard cleaning the barn, detasseling corn, shoveling manure, anything – can’t we please make a deal here?”

Now all this while, back on the farm, with dad knowing full well that junior’s going to make a mess of his life, dad has been spending his days walking up and down the road watching and waiting for his son to come staggering home. And then, sure enough, one day the father sees the wasted form of his son on the horizon – and then dad does the unthinkable – blows all his dignity out of the water and runs to greet the loser – hugs him, kisses him, makes a real fool of himself. And all of this the father does ever before the son can get a single word of his repentance speech out of his mouth. The young son does nothing – absolutely nothing. And yes, while in the midst of all this unseemly public display of affection, the son does manage to get out his well-rehearsed and imperfect act of contrition – his father seems not to hear a word of it – he’s too intent on planning a huge party – too intent on dressing his utterly, completely, thoroughly undeserving son in the finest clothes and Bruno Magli shoes, decking him out in the family jewels, and treating him like returning royalty. In the midst of all of this, elder son is understandably none too happy. After all, he’s been busy lo these many years admiring himself as an absolute saint for staying home, taking care of his pain-in-the-butt father, guarding the family fortune, and setting up all the necessary financial instruments to keep the government from slapping an inheritance tax on what is rightfully his and his alone. And then seeing how upset the elder son is, the father has the nerve to say, “I love you too, but let’s party, your lost brother was dead and has come to life, he was lost and now he is found.”

There is only one line I remember from the thousands of very good, gospel-filled sermons I’ve heard in the last fifty-plus years. It was a long time ago and we delivered by our Vicar, a young man on his seminary internship year: “I feel like God loved me better when I was worse.” And I still remember the sadness on his face and in his voice. He had become the elder son, the elder brother of the delinquent son; and taking pride in his own good behavior, there was little to no room left over for the unconditional love God has for the lost to intervene and bring him back to life. Martin Luther commenting on our reading from 1 Timothy says: "The saintlier I have been, the more uncertain.” Luther, the Vicar from my youth, and St. Paul – they’ve all had their times of being the elder brother – with no tolerance for the lost sheep – and they all found out one way or another that their bourgeois morality was just white-wash, thrift – just another word for greed, and duty – the camouflage worn by the self-righteous to hide their deep resentment. And the trouble with depending upon our own goodness to keep us in the good graces of God’s love – well – we always have to wonder: “Am I doing enough – and doing enough well enough?” Which is, ultimately, the supreme act of un-faith: we do not trust God’s unconditional promise of outrageous, idiotic love and totally senseless friendship. We do not trust God at God’s Word that says: “I love the least, the last, the lost, the unlovely, and the unlovable. I love you. And there’s nothing you or any priest, pope, or president can do that can ever in all eternity change that. Oh – and your pathetic bargaining – it’s really quite needless – in a moment in time, in your Holy Baptism – I said to you and by name, “All is forgiven, all is forgotten – in the past, the present, the future, and unto all eternity. So come to the party that I, in my divine eccentricity, am forever throwing for you and for all the lost – for I have found you and I will continue to find you every day of your life – until that day when you will never be lost again and will be forever safe in the household of my, to-you, unfathomable love – and just wait till you see the ridiculous party I’m going to throw for you then!

“Oh – and in the meantime – go easy on the rest of the brothers and sisters. They all keep getting lost – just like you. And instead of pointing fingers, maybe try holding hands for a change.”