Not Fair

Text: Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

It is easy to see ourselves in this story in Luke, which we commonly call the story of the prodigal son.

We have all been stupid as the younger son was, or nearly so, from time to time. All of us have done things which we have regretted, hurt ourselves and hurt others, and have needed to be and have wished to be forgiven. One reason the mural up here draws our attention is that we know in our hearts what it is like to be lost and to have someone come find us, to hope that God will come find us, to bring us home even when we have messed up.

We have all been in the shoes of the father, who has been sinned against, who perhaps wishes not to forgive. We would rather hold a grudge, to harbor resentments, to withdraw and withhold affection. But at the same time are moved to forgive others because, in spite of everything, we love them.

We have all been like the older brother, bitter because someone went unpunished when they deserved to be, or worse went rewarded for evils they have done. When we ourselves have been slighted or ignored even though we have worked hard and faithfully, done what was expected and required.

It is a powerful story. But even so, it is not intended to be a soap opera. It is not intended to be an allegory. Though it compels us to see ourselves in it, it is a parable, and like all parables, its intent is to shock us into thinking in a new way. It is to make us understand something new about God.

You will notice that the reading has a few verses from the beginning of chapter 15 before it leaps ahead to today’s story. It does that because we need to remember the context in which this story is told in Luke. It is part of a long response by Jesus to the grumbling of the Pharisees, who are unhappy that Jesus hangs around and eats with sinners. They do not approve. In the face of their disapproval, Jesus tells three parables.

All three parables have structures and themes in common. All three are about something being lost. All three are about the lost thing being found. All three are about the great rejoicing that results.

The first parable is about a lost sheep. This is the parable that our altarpiece here illustrates. A shepherd leaves behind ninety-nine sheep to go off searching for one lost sheep. Finding the sheep, the shepherd says “Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.” And he throws a party.

The second parable is about a lost coin. A woman loses one coin out of ten. She sweeps and cleans and hunts until she finds the coin, then saying “Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin.” And she throws a party.

And the third parable is about the family of the prodigal—prodigal, meaning wasteful or extravagant—the prodigal son, who leaves his home and family. And when he returns, the father says: “This son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.” And he throws a party.

On the face of it, there is a simple message here. A coin is lost, a sheep is lost, a man is lost. The three are found. People gather to celebrate.

We might conclude from this that God is good. That God finds us when we are lost sinners. The angels in heaven rejoice, it says, when that happens. That is a good and true message. But while that seems to be all we can say about the coin and the sheep, there is something else going on with the father and his two sons.

Unlike coins and maybe unlike sheep, people live in complicated relationships. Siblings fight and yet are true to one another, are jealous and yet admire each other. Bosses and colleagues compete and yet remain in fellowship. When the young son gets his inheritance early and then squanders it all, it means more than he is lost like the coin or sheep are lost. He has embarrassed himself and his father and brother, has hurt them, has made them angry. Yet at the same time they grieve for him.

We are subject to social expectations and conventions. Good should be rewarded. Bad should be punished. People should respect rules and manners and what is proper.

The younger brother violates these expectations and conventions. By asking for his inheritance early, he insults his father. It is as if he were to say “you are dead to me.” By making his father divide the property, he weakens the family’s land holdings in a culture where ancestral land was considered a gift from God.

Even so, if this story were only about the young son and his father, it would still be a lot like the coin and the sheep, only more compelling because it is people and culture we are talking about and therefore more moving. It would be a story of a young man who did a really stupid and hurtful thing. He was ashamed of himself. He was afraid to come home and face his father. But in the end, he did anyway. His father still loved him, as fathers often do, and felt bad for him, and gave him a big hug. Then they had a big party. And probably, on the next day, they sat down for a little talk. It would be a story of compassion.

But the presence of the older brother in the story changes this all. It becomes a story of justice. It is no longer just a lost soul, found. There has been collateral damage. Another person has been wounded. If the father forgives the younger son, then what does that mean for the older son, the one who has remained loyal? He and we want to know. Is it fair to the older son?

If this is about God, as the parables always are, then it seems the story is telling us more than that God is compassionate and loving. God is loving. But God is not fair. The father loves both sons, but the father is not fair. Neither son gets what he deserves.

Parables, like these ones, are meant to shock us. The people in these do weird things, unreasonable things, imprudent things. Who would leave ninety-nine sheep to fend for themselves? Who would welcome such a scoundrel?

The force of God’s grace and love is hard to believe. Sometimes hard to take. Sometimes it offends us. Those who first heard the parable would have been offended by it. Some of you might be. The Pharisees were offended that Jesus would tolerate the sinners. More than tolerate, Jesus loved and welcomed the sinners. That for sure offended them.

This is not about how we are all sinners and are therefore equal in the eyes of God. It is that God does not care at all whether we are equal or not. God cares for us equally, whether we are sinners or not. It is not about our character and behavior. It is about God and about what God does.

Paul writes that we no longer regard things from a human point of view. To wish that people get what they deserve is a human point of view. But God does not share that view. God’s grace defies worldly expectations. God is not fair. God is not wise in the ways of the world. All persons call forth God’s divine favor. In this way (as in many) God is prodigal, extravagant, wasteful.

We are more stingy, we are less generous. We are humans. We regard things from a human point of view. We do not see things as God sees them. But we pray, sharing in Paul’s hope, that through Christ we can.