22^nd March 2010

Rev Dr Max Champion at St John's UCA Mt Waverley (14th March 2010)

Lessons -- Psalm 32:2; 2 Corinthians 5:16-21; Luke 15:1-3,11-32

'From now on,' says Paul, '(because Christ died and was raised for all) we regard no-one from a human point of view.' (2 Corinthians 5:16 RSV)

It is sometimes said today that we should ignore Paul and concentrate on the simple message of Jesus. But, as we see here, what Paul says perfectly describes the parable of the Prodigal Son! One son who 'from a human point of view' is hopeless, is accepted by his overjoyed father, while the other son who, from the human point of view, is responsible, risks cutting himself off from his father.

The story shocks the respectable, delights the disreputable. It upsets human standards of acceptance and shows the gulf that exists between God's mercy and human calculation, forgiveness and resentment, acceptance and blame, extravagant joy and mean-spirited disapproval.

A more degraded fate for a devout Jew cannot be imagined! From a human point of view he is beyond hope. Immoral and irreligious, he is disgraced in the eyes of God and of all devout and reasonable people. Yet, because his father doesn't treat him from a human point of view, he is welcomed back in an act of spontaneous, heartfelt love.

In desperation he 'comes to his senses' (Luke 15:17) and resolves to go home. He has no 'right' (as we say) to anything from his father: money, property, job, hospitality or acceptance. But being at his wits' end, he decides to plead with his father to be allowed to work as a slave! So he returns home -- penniless, starving and ashamed.

Unlike National and State leaders looking for political advantage, he doesn't apologise for his mistakes in order to get public sympathy. Unlike prominent politicians, sportsmen and celebrities, he doesn't 'fess up'
only when caught doing what is corrupt or immoral. He isn't an unrepentant hedonist conniving to manipulate his father's affections. He doesn't confess to be accepted.

He confesses because he must face the truth about himself before the one whom he has wronged, regardless of how he is received. Humiliated by his own deeds, he doesn't look for excuses but accepts the blame for his rebellious and degraded behaviour. And as he turns for home he has no guarantee that his confession will be accepted.

The reception he receives is entirely unexpected. His father breaks all the rules of propriety. He runs to meet him (undignified), kisses him (forgiveness), cuts short his well-rehearsed confession (v21), puts on the best robe (honour) and a ring (authority) and shoes (free man), and kills the fatted calf (special occasions). He runs towards him before knowing whether he is sorry or not! He cuts short his son's prepared confession.
He is treated royally as a free man by his overjoyed father who cannot help but exclaim: 'My son who was dead is alive; who was lost is found!'
(v24) And so the festivities begin!

This is pure Gospel. There is hope for all those who have demeaned their dignity, degraded their humanity and mocked God's goodness and mercy.
Little wonder that in this parable many corrupt, immoral and brutal people, like the slave-trader John Newton, have found forgiveness and a
renewed life.

If the parable had ended there (v24), most of us would be deeply moved by the reconciliation between father and son. But it doesn't! When the elder son is drawn to the house by the sound of the festivities, we are drawn uncomfortably into the action. We are forced to decide where we stand in relation to the reactions of the father and the elder son. Do we share the father's exuberance or the elder son's self-righteousness?

From a human point of view the elder son is right. His brother doesn't deserve to be received as if he were an honoured guest. He has wasted his inheritance by undisciplined living. He has only himself to blame for going broke and suffering the humiliation of having to work for a pagan boss and scrounging for food with (religiously unclean) pigs.

Unlike his older brother (and those who think of ourselves as good people who have nothing serious to confess), the younger son acknowledges his need of God's grace. He is guilty of wasting his life. Nevertheless, the one who from a human point of view is most irresponsible knows the mercy of God while the other, a responsible citizen, is a 'stranger to grace'!

Being a 'stranger to grace' he alienates himself from his father and brother. In response to his father's very personal description of the 'prodigal' as 'my son' and 'your brother' (v24,32), the elder brother refers to him very impersonally, not as 'my brother', but as 'this son of yours'. (v30)

Most who hear this story sympathise with the elder brother. Instead of saying, 'I've always felt sorry for the older brother,' we should be saying, 'Now at last I've understood the Gospel.' We identify more with his sense of grievance than the younger son's redemption. We may be pleased that he has come to his senses and identify with the father's joy, but don't see ourselves mirrored in the face of the wasteful son. We tend to see ourselves, like the elder brother, as sensible, law-abiding, godly citizens!

Like the folk in Luke 13:1-9 (last week's lesson) who were more interested in the sins of others who died in tragic circumstances than their own sins, we are remarkably easy on our own short-comings, neglectful of personal confession and blind to our own need for God's forgiveness (for depending on our goodness!). At the same time, we know how hard it is to forgive those who have wronged us.

Notice that nothing is said about it being wrong to be good and godly citizens. The elder brother isn't criticised because he is devout and responsible. He shares the closest bond with his father. His problem is that he is 'grudging in forgiveness' (as the Covenant Service puts it).
Thus he resents his brother for being a no-hoper and his father for being so joyful and generous. He represents all who begrudge the fact of God's mercy and its transforming power in the lives of those whose self- indulgent behaviour has mocked God's splendid design for life. He represents all who find it hard to forgive those who've wronged them.

Today the parable is heard by a very different audience.

* We don't think of doing wrong 'in God's sight'. Talk of sin is jarring, as is the message of grace! Only yesterday Prof. AC Grayling, a keynote speaker at the Global Atheist Convention in Melbourne, is quoted as
saying: 'Christianity has this awful moral psychology that says we are all failed creatures in need of grace and salvation. It's these aspects of religion, ethically speaking, that are very disagreeable. Humanist ethics wants to start with the good.' (The Age, 13/3/10.) Like him, many of us think that good people like us (and the elder brother) don't have much to confess. After all, we are committed to equality and justice. We know our rights. We all want to be treated fairly. However, we are blind to the extent to which all of us spoil the goodness and humanity for which we have been created by God.

* There is also a strongly held view (an all-too-human view) that says the younger son's behaviour isn't all that serious. It is understandable to want to escape from a patriarchal family, conservative religion and repressive moralism. The son should be commended for his progressive lifestyle; the father should confess his failure to 'live with diversity'.

The parable refuses to be reshaped by our sense of fairness or our desire to downplay the seriousness of behaviour which demeans our humanity! It emphasises the unexpected and extravagant mercy of the father, in contrast with the disapproval of the elder son -- without trivialising the younger son's actions. It doesn't treat lightly the fact that he has wasted his life. He isn't applauded for his 'free spirit'. What he has done is wrong.
He has treated his father unfairly. He isn't a victim of circumstances, but suffers the consequences of his own actions!

The parable ends with the father's invitation to his elder son to join the party. We don't know whether he changes his mind. We do know that a condition for his attendance will be confession of his sins. Not sins of self-indulgence, immorality and irreligion (like his brother), but sins of self-righteousness and resentment which blind him to the reality of grace in his own life and in the lives of others.

Miroslav Volf, a Croatian Christian theologian, speaks of having terrible difficulty forgiving his Serbian neighbours who had committed atrocities against his people. Eventually, after a long and painful battle, he came to realise that he must 'embrace' his enemies. He couldn't find it in himself to do so. It became possible only with the vision of the outstretched arms of the crucified Christ and the father's welcome of his prodigal son!

This extraordinary parable, which we could not believe if it were not for the presence of Christ in our midst, ends on the most unexpected note of all. There is hope, not only for irreligious and immoral people, but also for religious and moral people whose resentment makes it impossible for them to forgive those who have wronged them! Isn't it remarkable that in Jesus Christ, the embodiment of God's Word of grace, there is hope for hedonists, good citizens, church members and even ministers! Good news indeed!

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Rev Dr Max Champion is minister in the St John's Uniting Church, Mt Waverley, Victoria, Australia. Dr Champion is Chair of the Assembly of Confessing Congregations within the UCA.