Sermon: Moments of Recognition

From Wellington Cathedral of St Paul

Moments of Recognition: 14 March 2010: am: The Very Revd Frank Nelson

• Psalm 32
• Joshua 5: 9 - 12
• 2 Corinthians 5: 16 - 21
• Luke 15: 1 – 3, 11b - 32

It’s a confused old world all right! On the one hand we have Mr Dawkins of Oxford preaching his Gospel of Evolution, confidently proclaiming his belief that there is no God – and charging a sizeable speaking fee. On the other, there is Mr Tamaki of Auckland preaching his Gospel of Creationism, confidently proclaiming his belief that not only is there a God, but that his God wants him to have lots of money – and charging a sizeable speaking fee. And there’s another speaker – known as Jesus of Nazareth – he tells stories which some listen to and some don’t. He too charges a speaking fee – and then pays it himself, so there is no cost to the listener.

“There was a man who had two sons.” What a great way to begin a story. We immediately sense there is going to be action, competition, some scandal perhaps. The story is so well known that it bears looking at and thinking about carefully. It’s easy to brush it aside with an I-know-that-story-let’s-move-on sort of attitude. I’ve been looking at this Parable of the Prodigal Son, or the Lost Son, or the Forgiving Father, with three different groups this past week: first with the Young Adults last Sunday night; then with a group of our junior choristers; and finally with those seeking baptism and confirmation at Easter. Each time we have found something else to enrich our understanding. And it’s interesting that the story has never been called the Parable of the Angry Older Son.

For whatever reason, the younger son asks for his share of his future inheritance. Given that we know almost nothing about property and inheritance issues in 1st century Judaism it is futile to speculate as to why the son asked, and why the father acquiesced. Nor does the story need a reason; enough to be told that he squandered the money in dissolute living. There is no need to read into that more than there is – and certainly not the older brother’s later outburst about prostitutes. The Greek word can be as innocuous as inappropriate or undisciplined living. Anyone who has ever let their credit card transactions get out of control on a holiday or shopping trip will have some sympathy with the young man.

The point of the story is that he runs out of money and, to the horror of the Jewish audience Jesus is speaking to, can find only the most menial of jobs which involves looking after pigs! We can feel the gasp of the audience when Jesus adds that he would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. At this point there is the first moment of recognition in the parable. The younger son comes to his senses. This is stupid. Not even the lowest paid of his father’s employees has to go without food. A plan forms in his mind, and he begins to rehearse a carefully crafted speech. “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.” If you have ever had to confess to something you will know how that sentence will have been played over and over in the son’s mind, as he mentally prepared himself on the journey back to his father.

The second moment of recognition in the story comes when the son is still a long way off. His father sees him in the distance and runs to meet him. Jesus’ description of the father is very moving – ‘his father saw him and was filled with compassion (literally his bowels moved within him, his heart melted); he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.” The younger son tries to give his speech – but his father is not interested. The second moment of recognition in the parable is that of the father – the son who was gone is back, the one who was lost is found, the one who was as dead, is alive. Let’s party!

Would you do that? Or would a more likely scenario be to hear the boy out, to quiz him on just what he had been up to, throw a few tantrums, make sure the boy knows just how worried his father and mother have been, and what a fool he had been, and why had he not listened, or thought about what he was doing, or at the very least sent a text message to say he was OK!!! There’s none of that. The father is not like others, not like me. He sees only the one who was dead, alive again; the one lost, as found.

But hold on a moment. Is this not what is called cheap grace? The son wastes and the father forgives. Where is the accountability? Where is the responsibility? Where is the condition of repayment; the promise not to be so stupid or selfish or gullible again?

The story moves on and the older son is brought into the picture for the first time. Forty percent of the parable is taken up with the older son, but we often ignore him. Perhaps it gets a little too close. Good, faithful, loyal, hard-working, we can fully understand the reaction of the older son. As with the younger the father comes out to meet him, and the third moment of recognition occurs. What could the father have done in response to the accusation of the older brother? He seems to have a point. He certainly expresses himself clearly enough – the anger, the disgust, the frustration, the arrogance, the annoyance. His is the viewpoint of the ‘good’ child, the ‘loyal’ son, the one who has worked, not for wages, but for duty.

There are no excuses from the father, no attempt to bribe him with feel-good promises, no attempt to gloss over his outburst or belittle him. Just a heart-felt, love-filled statement: “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.” In that short sentence is all the love and trust that will never be the younger son’s. The third moment of recognition happens not on the part of the older son, but again, on the part of the father. His love is big enough to embrace both sons – each different, each loved.

And the fourth moment of recognition? That’s not in the parable. The fourth moment of recognition is up to us. It comes when we realize that Jesus’ story is for us – that we could easily be either of the sons, or even the father. It comes when the penny drops that this is no moment of cheap grace, but a brilliantly told story of God’s love – unconditional and at the price of a life on a cross given to the good and the bad, the older and the younger, the one far off and the one close by. In the words of St Paul, heard in our second reading this morning, “in Christ, God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us.”

The Parable of the Prodigal Son is an invitation to us, to all people, to revel in the love of God, and, to quote St Paul again, “to be ambassadors for Christ.”

Just as I am, thou wilt receive, wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve: because thy promise I believe, O Lamb of God, I come.