“Coming Home”

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

March 21, 2004

Saint Paul United Methodist Church

Rev. John A. Fleming

I heard about the preacher who was leading a small group that met on Sunday nights. The group, made up of about ten couples, were all about the same age and station in life. For a year the group had met on Sunday evenings. The preacher had gathered them together, asked them to consider being the newest small group in the church and ever since then, they had been together. They now trusted each other and considered each other dear friends. With their preacher leading them, the group had studied five or six different books in the Bible and applied their teachings to their lives. They had studied the gospels and a couple of Paul’s letters. The preacher always suggested what they might study. And since they had finished up Paul’s letter to the church at Colossae the week before, he thought that he would try something different.

So as they gathered and got their cups on coffee on this particular Sunday night, the preacher scanned the eyes of those sitting around the table, then he said, “Let’s try something different tonight.” They seemed agreeable, so he continued. “Give me a word picture to describe a relative in your life who really bugs you.” He could tell by the look on their faces that they were confused and so he said, “I keep meeting people who have trouble dealing with someone in their immediate family. Their mother-in-law could carry a broom, or their uncle is a bum, or they have a father who treats them like they had never been born.” The preacher tells that their heads began to nod. They were now getting what he was after; they were connecting. One guy, looked over at his wife, and said, “A cactus wearing a silk shirt” That is a pretty good description of my mother. On the outside she looks nice. She does not go to our church, so I can say this. Everyone thinks that she is the greatest person. Get closer to her and you will see that she is dry, prickly, and thirsty for life. Another woman said this, “Tar Baby in Brer Rabbit.” She reminded the group of the story about how the fox played a trick on Brer Rabbit. The fox made a doll out of tar and stuck it on the side of the road. When the rabbit saw the baby, he thought that it was a real person and stopped to visit with it. When the baby would not talk back, Brer Rabbit hit the baby in frustration, and his hand stuck to the Baby. Trying to get loose he hit the baby again, and now both hands were stuck. The woman said, “Sometimes I feel that way. Stuck to someone that I love, but cannot communicate with!” Sitting there, across from the preacher, next to his wife, was another man, a young man in his mid thirties, perhaps, who spoke up and said, “I do not know about images and pictures. I am not so good at that sort of thing. What I do know is that what I want more than anything else is to be closer to my dad.” Then he said this, “When I call home and when my dad answers it, he says, ‘Hi, Son. Let me get your mother for you.’” Estrangement from the father, it seems to be big these days.

I remember seeing the movie Eight Seconds a few years ago. I admit that the movie was not my kind of movie, but a church member insisted that I watch it. So I did. Eight Seconds is the story of Lane Frost, a bull rider. There is a scene near the end of the movie, just after Lane has been killed in a riding accident. His father is sitting alone in one of the rooms of his house. His wife walks in telling him that it is time for their supper. Lane’s dad says, “I know that I told him that I was proud of him. But I cannot remember a single time that I told him that I loved him.” Those of us in families know that this sort of thing is not reserved for sons and their fathers. It is also the story of daughters and their mothers. I remember seeing an interview of Barbara Streisand, with Barbara Walters. Streisand, a great singer, has plenty of money and fame and yet she confessed in that interview that she was afraid to ask her mother what she thought of her. She said that she was afraid of what her mother might say. Barbara Walters, when she heard that, said, “I have talked with your mother and your mother praised you. She said that she was very proud of you.” I wish that you could have seen the expression on the entertainer’s face.

Tears formed in her eyes and then ran down her cheek. She had never heard those words herself, but everyone who saw the interview knew that what she wanted more than anything else was her mother’s approval and a blessing.

Sometimes the blessing comes and sometimes it does not come. Sometimes the blessing comes when the adult child is home for a visit. She has made it to adulthood. Her job is good and her choice of husband is also good. Sitting on the porch, maybe her father says, “You know, honey, I am really proud of you.” It is his blessing. If blessings are not received, then sometimes a child, regardless of their age, has trouble growing completely up. They wait for the blessing and they try to earn it. They want to be perfect and to excel in all things, until the words are given. You will find the idea of a blessing first in the Bible, in the Old Testament tale of two brothers, Jacob and Esau. They are the twin sons of Isaac and Rebekah. Both want their father’s blessing. Jacob cheats to get it, and when Esau finds out what happened, he is ready to kill his brother to get the blessing back. Now I know that it is different today. Back then there was one blessing from a father. Today there is more than one, but still a blessing is an important thing.

Here is what I think. I think that the story of the Prodigal Son should be read as that kind of a story. The problem is that it is rarely interpreted that way. The reason, I think, is that the name that has been given to this parable is The Prodigal Son. Luke does not give the story that title. Someone else along the way, gave it that title. it’s title makes it sound like this story is only about a younger son. If that is the case, then this story is simply a tale about a boy who wised up and came home. The parable begins with these words, “There was a man who had two sons.” There are two sons in this story and the story makes the radical statement that both of them are distanced from their father. One is described as a prodigal, a son who wasted everything that he had been given. That is a pretty good description of this young man. The other son was righteous. One went to the far country. The other stayed at home. But, for some reason, both are distanced from their father. They are both alike. One is rebellious, the other is self-righteous. But they are alike. They both want the same thing. They are rivals for the same thing and the way that they act, as different as they are, are caused by the same thing, this desperate need in their lives to hear their father’s blessing. What shocked the folks who heard this story is that being a prodigal and being self-righteous are signs of the same disease. The disease is alienation. And it just so happens that the cure for both brothers is the same. The cure is what we have come to call grace.

I guess the tragedy of this story is that only one of the sons realizes it. The older brother says, “I am all right. There is nothing wrong with me. I stayed home. I did what was expected of me. I did not marry a Baptist girl. Never did I even imagine that I would do what my brother did. So I am different from my brother!” The younger son did go away, to the far country. On his way out of town he broke just about every custom that he could. You see, good Jewish sons never left the family, especially to live in Gentile country. But before he left, he asked for his share of his father’s estate. That was unheard of. I can just imagine the look and then the laughter that I would receive if I asked my dad to do that! Hear this, please. This younger son, in essence, was saying to his father, “You are as good as dead to me. Give me what I will receive!”

Not only is his father as good as dead to him, this son is supposed to be as good as dead to his family. His memory is supposed to be erased from the family. He was not supposed to ever be allowed to come back home. Never. But he does come home. And not only does he come home, but his father receives him. And not only does he receive him, he blesses him, which is what happens when he places the ring on his finger, the robe on his shoulders, the sandals on his feet, and the party in his honor. Friends, I want you to see this. This boy has just received the one thing that all of us want more than anything else – our father’s blessing. And it was given to this prodigal, this waster of things, freely. It was free, without cost. He had left, failed miserably in the far country. He was lost and now has been found. He was dead and is now alive.

That is why his brother is so enraged. Can’t you just see his fuming? Can’t you hear him saying, “If anyone deserves a blessing, it’s me! I worked hard for it. I sacrificed for it. I did not go across that river. I stayed at home in the family that I was raised in. I never questioned it. I was always faithful to it! And now, look what has happened. It is disgusting! It is immoral that’s what this is, that my brother would be treated this way!!!” Go to the parable and see what happens. The younger son returns. The father gives him a robe and a ring and a party. The older son won’t come inside. He is standing out there on the porch, the sound of revelry from inside the house is hitting his ears. He has his back turned, looking at the property that is supposed to be all his now. He won’t go inside the house. You know what that means. It means that the porch has now become the far country. That is the point! The older son is revealing by his behavior that he is distanced from his father, just as his brother was. He wants that blessing he believes that he has earned it. It is what he wants more than anything else, but he did not get it. He efforts did not result in it being rewarded to him So he won’t go inside!

Look what happens. Just as the father took the initiative to go down the road to greet his younger son, so now the father goes out on the porch to meet his righteous son. As the parable puts it, “So his father went out and pleaded with him.” A man had two sons. There is no difference. Both are separated from their father. Both want the same thing. Both want their father’s blessing more than anything else in their lives. And what makes the older son angry is that the younger son got it. The older son had everything else. The father says to him, “Everything that I have ever had is yours.” That does not matter, you see. The one thing that he does not have is the one thing that he must have, his father’s blessing, the assurance of his love, expressed in words or in some other tangible way, like a cloak, a ring, or a party.

A man had two sons. Church, I want you to go home with this today. This story is about us, everybody, rounders and righteous, men and women, religious people and not so religious people. It is normal to want this blessing. If you are a prodigal son or daughter, and if you have lived in a way that is considered less than great, then you know the feeling. You may also know what it is like to be received back into the family. If you have experience it, then you know that it has come only because of grace, not because of something that you did. If you are an older son, or at least acted like one for most of your life, then you have some trouble with this story. You have stayed close to home and you have followed all of the rules. Maybe you resent people saying that there is no difference between you and your brother. There is a difference, a real difference, at least in your mind. All that you really want is for your Father to be proud of you and to love you. Perhaps even to say, “Well done, my good and faithful son.” To be loved and to hear the words are so powerful.

I heard about a teacher, who taught the fifth grade, who had a competition each year. Each year she would ask each child in her class to pick a sentence from literature, to name the author, and to confirm the source of the saying. When that was done, the student was to explain why this sentence could be called the most important one ever written. You can probably guess what some of the entries were like. “Fourscore and seven years ago” was one. A lot of political phrases were cited. There were some literary phrases, like, “To be or not to be” that were offered. There were fifteen entries, but the one that won was not written by a famous author. It could not be found in any literary source. It appeared on a postcard from Hawaii. One of the girls in the class received it from her stepfather. He was on his honeymoon with this girl’s mother. The teacher was uneasy about this, because the children were supposed to explain why this is the most important sentence ever written. But she let her speak. The girl said that until she received that postcard, she did not know how her stepfather felt about her. The girl’s entry won the prize. It was written on the back of a postcard from Waikiki Beach. And it simply read, “Charlotte, I love you.” That is the greatest sentence ever written. There are variations of it, of course, and wherever it is heard and from whatever source it comes, it still means that it is a blessing. It is in our lesson this morning, in the parable of the prodigal son and it’s addressed to all of us. To sons and daughters, to prodigals and the righteous, “Come home. I love you.”

(Special thanks to Rev. Mark Trotter for an idea or two in this sermon and for the closing story. Thanks also to Max Lucado for the opening story of the sermon).