Readings
Joshua 5:9-12
Psalm 32
2 Corinthians 5:16-21
Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
In today’s Gospel passage we get one of the best-known parables found in the Gospels: the parable of the prodigal son. Or perhaps we should call it “the parable of the forgiving father.” We all know the story. A man has two sons. The younger son asks for his inheritance early and surprisingly the father consents. He liquidates half of his assets and gives the son his inheritance. The son then goes off and lives a profligate life. As might be expected, because of his lack of insight or investment he burns through the money quickly and finds himself destitute. He goes from being the life of the party to being the poorest of the poor. He, a Jew, is working for a pagan pig farmer and is so desperate that he would gladly eat the food intended for the swine.
It is at this point that he awakens to the realization of what he has done and what he has lost. He makes up his mind to go back home and humble himself with only the expectation of being treated like a servant. He practices what he will say so that it’s clear that he returns not as a son, but as a slave. But even before he arrives home his father sees him approaching and has “compassion for him.” When they meet the son begins to make his speech, but before he can finish the father tells the servants to treat him as an honored guest and as the favored member of the family. And then on top of that he commands for there to be a feast because “this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!”
Now after this, while the party is gearing up, the elder son (the responsible one) comes in from working in the field and sees the commotion. He asks what is going on and a servant tells him about the return of his brother. He is furious and refuses to even enter the house. In the end, the father comes out and is greeted with a tirade from his elder son. You can almost hear venom in his voice as he spits out the words “this son of yours.” You can hear his jealousy at the lavish party being thrown, when he isn’t even afforded a young goat for a party with his friends. The situation looks intractable until the father responds. In the end the father reminds him of all that he has and that after losing his brother he has him back.
For many of us forgiveness is a tricky concept. When we mess up, we hope for forgiveness. But often when we consider forgiveness of others, we expect there to be some kind of remorse or repentance. In fact, the whole concept of forgiveness is often tied up in our ideas of justice. We tie our concept of forgiveness to the restoration of or, at the very least, an attempt at the restoration of right living. In some cases, we feel that in order for forgiveness to be offered there first must be some kind of punishment as payment for the wrong committed. As I said at the beginning, for most of us forgiveness is a tricky concept.
It was just as tricky in the first century. The passage we have today begins with Jesus being criticized for eating with tax collectors and sinners. The Pharisees in question are expressing the same dilemma with forgiveness we have. Namely that those who live a life marked by wrong behavior do not necessarily deserve our forgiveness.
But the sinners and tax collectors who come to Jesus are looking for an alternative. They are seeking him and by extension they are seeking God. We may not know how deeply their commitment to change is or whether they are simply motivated by their own desperate situations, but nonetheless they come to Jesus seeking a change. And Jesus, by telling this parable, calls into question both the Pharisees’ and our assumptions about forgiveness.
Have you ever noticed that even though the son is ready to express his remorse and seeks nothing more than to be a slave in his father’s household, the father forgives him even before he can ask for it. In fact, the father has compassion for his son. He is relieved and joyful at the son’s return.
For Jesus, this is how God’s forgiveness works. Contrary to the messages we get in our culture, for God, forgiveness is not dependent upon our righteousness or our making amends. God, like the father, forgives us again and again as an act of compassion. All that is required of us is a willingness to return, a willingness to repent. We need only turn in a new direction and return to God in order to receive forgiveness. As long as we continue to seek after God and what God has to offer, we will be transformed, and God will rejoice at our return.
If you find yourself struggling with this idea, you are not alone. First off, the elder son struggled with this idea, but so did the Pharisees, and so does most of society today. I don’t know about you, but while I like the idea of forgiveness, its execution is another matter. What does it mean to forgive someone who has wronged me? What does it mean to forgive someone who has wronged others? Are we to simply pretend that their offenses never occurred? Are we to allow ourselves to be victimized again and again? To be doormats upon which the criminal and unrighteous walk over us repeatedly? Moreover, what about our unrewarded righteousness? Shouldn’t those who have done wrong reap what they have sown? And shouldn’t those of us who have behaved rightly receive the benefits of our behavior?
This scripture presents for us a universe where God’s good vision is one in which justice seeks to restore an individual after repentance. Remember it is the son’s return that creates the opportunity for his forgiveness. But he is ultimately forgiven without the requirement of him humbling himself. What is important to remember is that, unlike the elder son’s sensibility and that of the Pharisees, the goal in God’s justice is less about punishment than it is about redemption. God seeks to redeem the world not to destroy it. In today’s scripture we are being afforded to be both recipients of such a gracious and compassionate reality as well as agents of it to others.
Now this does leave the question of what to do about the unrepentant. Well, we too must seek their restoration, but we need not tolerate their behavior. It is appropriate to set boundaries and to ensure that they may not harm others. But even here, as a people who follow in the way of Jesus, we must not seek retribution. Our call is to be agents of the lavish compassion and forgiveness of God.
We must remember, especially in this season of Lent, that none of us have a clean slate. All of us stand in need of forgiveness from time to time. We must remember that we have received and will again receive forgiveness that is undeserved simply because we are the beloved of God. For those of us who are or have been married, how often have we received the forgiveness of our spouse simply because we are loved? And if you aren’t married, then think of the forgiveness of a friend or a parent that came when least expected simply because they loved you. Just as Jesus’ act of eating with sinners and tax collectors was an expression of God’s love and forgiveness, so too are such experiences as I just described equally an experience of that same love and forgiveness.
Friends, we are being afforded in today’s Gospel an opportunity to once again embrace our blessedness. We are being called to hold on to the truth that we are forgiven even before we know to ask. Not because of our worthiness but because we are beloved in the eyes of God. We too are being called to be a people of repentance that we might embrace that forgiveness and blessing. But to do that alone is not enough. Our higher calling is to be ourselves agents of love, blessing, and forgiveness. We are called to live lives marked by the deep compassion of the God we follow and worship.
More than ever, we live in a world that where forgiveness and compassion are in short supply. Imagine, if you will, what the world would be like if such transformative forgiveness were practiced. Imagine what our communities would look like. Imagine what our relationships would look like. Imagine what each of our lives would look and feel like. We just may find that what was lost is found and what once was dead is alive again.