Monday, July 22, 2024

“What Is God the Father Like…” Luke 15.1–3, 11–32 July ’24 Pent 9B July ‘24

 

1.                Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our heavenly Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen. The text for today, as we continue our sermon series on Parables for Pentecost, is taken from Luke 15, beginning with verses 1–2: “Now the tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to hear him [Jesus]. And the Pharisees and the scribes grumbled, saying, ‘This man receives [welcomes] sinners and eats with them.’ ” What Is God the Father Like? That’s the title for our message today, dear brothers and sisters in Christ.

2.                Unfortunately, our experience with our earthly fathers has clouded our vision of God the Father as shown to us by Jesus. But, today we need to let Jesus tell us what the Father is really like. When you’re a dad and your little kids are asleep, you go in and kiss them. And then you pray that God will make you a better father. Life is about them. And you don’t regret the love, the worrying and protecting, not if it’s for your child.

3.                Jesus said in Luke 15: “There was a man who had two sons. And the younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of property [estate] that is coming to me’ ” (Luke 15:11–12a). Been punched in the stomach lately, Dad? Can you see the face you’ve always loved, the kid who rode on your shoulders, cold and distant, telling you the relationship is over? “I can’t wait forever for you to die, Pops. Just fork over my share so I can get out of here.” Can you feel your heart beating in your neck, and your face stinging? It stinks! “And he divided his property between them” (Luke 15:12b).

4.                It’s not like the Dad in this parable just sat down and wrote out a check. The boy can’t take herds of cattle with him on the love boat! Even if it’s a matter of taking ten cents on the dollar for his father’s valuables, all that’s at stake is his father’s good name. That was a public scandal in those days. There was even a ceremony, get-sat-sah (“cutting off”), for when a father was insulted like this. What father would let himself be humiliated like that? Our Father who art in heaven, that’s who.

5.                What is God the Father like? He’s humiliated—by every prodigal son or daughter who lives on his earth, breathes his air, eats his food, and doesn’t want to know him. God is publicly humiliated by every prodigal who utters the divine name just for fun, a hundred times a day, to remind God that he’s getting as far away from him as possible. It’s like Jesus was narrating the whole sordid tale of the Genesis 3 original sin all over again: “I don’t want this garden home you’ve given me. I wanna be out on my own!” What kind of father would let himself be humiliated like that?

6.                Luke 15:13-19 says, “Not many days later, the younger son gathered all he had and took a journey into a far country, and there he squandered his property in reckless living. And when he had spent everything, a severe famine arose in that whole country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed pigs. And he was longing to be fed with the pods that the pigs ate, and no one gave him anything. But when he came to himself, he said, “How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.’ ”

7.                “He came to himself.” His repentance was just like ours. Self-serving. He just wanted to survive, so he went home to where the food was, where there was someone who cared about him. His confession of sin even had a deal worked into it. “Three square meals a day,” and a time card seemed like a plan. He had no idea the size of the love and grace that was waiting for him.

8.                “But while he was still a long way off,” his father spotted him (Luke 15:20). Ever been there? I think we all have. Did you care why your child came home? I didn’t. If that happens in a bad man like me, what happens inside a Father who is truly good? Right here in verse 20. It all comes down to one Greek word. It’s this word that’s going to make us live forever: “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and esplagchnisthe”—literally, “his guts fell out,” “his heart broke.” The boy was justified, not in his confession (he hasn’t said anything yet!), but outside of himself, across the field in the breaking of the father’s heart. This is what God is like: brokenhearted. He’s “Our Father,” and by these words, he would tenderly invite us to believe that he is our true Father and we are his true children.

9.                He ran to his son, fell on his neck, and kissed him fervently. Where have I read this before? Remember how Jacob cheated his brother Esau? He thought Esau would kill him if they ever saw each other again. They had both made their fortunes and had their families. And when Jacob realized that he would meet up with Esau, he sent parades of gifts ahead of him, in the hopes that if he groveled enough, his offended brother might spare his life. But what happened? “Then Esau ran to meet him and embraced him, and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept” (Gen 33:4). So much of Jesus in the Old Testament!

10.              Luke 15:21-24 continues, “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to celebrate.”

11.             What’s wrong with this picture? Surely the get-sat-sah, that obviously hadn’t happened before, would happen now, since the son blew the inheritance! But did it? What happened to justice? Justice happened when the father’s heart was broken. One minute the father was clothed in dignity and the son stood in the distance humiliated. Who has dignity now? Not the father! In a pitiful display, robes flying, he’s half exposed himself running to his son, despising the shame! The son’s sin was covered, atoned for, by the humiliation of the father . . . that he caused! Can’t the father hear the townsfolk saying he’s easy and calling him a sucker? Apparently not.

12.             Witness the blessed exchange of dignity and honor from the father to the prodigal son. The son robed. The father disrobed. The son honored with the ring and shoes. The father dishonored with his running and cleaving like Esau as if he were the repentant sinner. The son was restored completely in the public spectacle of the father’s broken heart. Even that was not public enough for the father. Can you see the father sweaty and delighted, rounding up everyone? “Great news! You remember when my son treated me for dead and took his inheritance—so he could get as far away from me as possible? He blew the money partying! He had to come home! Isn’t that great?!! Hurry up! The band is playing! We’re having veal marsala! Bring your appetite and put on your dancing shoes!”

13.             Luke 15:25-28 continues, “Now his older son was in the field, and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the servants and asked what these things meant. And he said to him, “Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fattened calf, because he has received him back safe and sound.” But he was angry and refused to go in. His father came out and entreated [pleaded with] him.” You’d think a good son would be glad just to see his father happy again. Besides, it was the duty of the older son to be the mediator between his father and his brother, since he loved both. But this son loved neither. You could almost imagine a faithful son pleading with his father: “Dad, I can’t celebrate this! I can’t watch you do this to yourself. I watched you waste away since your no-account son pulled that rotten stunt, and now that he’s broke he’s back to sap you dry and slap you in the face again. I’m sorry, but I can’t just pretend like everything’s okay.” But that’s not what he said. Remember Jesus’ audience.

14.             Luke 15:29-32 continues, “But he [the older son] answered his father, “Look, these many years I have served [slaved for] you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property [estate] with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him!” And he said to him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. It was fitting [necessary] to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found.” “You are so unfair! What about me? I’ve slaved for you. (Wasn’t it his inheritance?) I’ve never disobeyed you (’til now). You never gave me a goat (just the whole estate!) so that I could party with my friends. (Not that I ever wanted to have a beer with you, Dad.) I agree with the neighbors: you’re a fool.”

15.             The guests standing there with their wine glasses must have been amazed! How many times has this father been dragged through the mud? Both of his sons are the same. Curved in on themselves. All the humiliated, brokenhearted father has done with both sons is run after them and give to them, yet he’s unfair? But he is. Completely unfair. He “tenderly invites” his older son, saying, “Let our hearts break and bring on the humiliations. We have to celebrate; he’s your brother, and he’s back from the dead! Who cares about fair?”

16.             The story ends with Jesus staring at the Pharisees, and all of us ninety-nine who don’t need to repent, who resent the fact that heaven puts on a feast for the one who does, as if their atonement cost us anything. He gave them a chance to finish the story, to answer the Father’s pleading, to repent and take on the Father’s heart, and to let their hearts break over their lost brothers. But no “older brother” was found to finish that story.

17.             Oh, it was finished all right, in Jerusalem, and it wasn’t a parable. See how unfairly the older Son gave his share to pay his brother’s debt. See how unfairly the older Son was publicly humiliated to cover his brother’s sin. See the older Son crucified to buy his brother back with his own broken heart. “I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted within my breast” (Ps 22:14).

18.             See, from his head, his hands, his feet Sorrow and love flow mingled down! When you’ve seen Jesus, you’ve seen the Father. And when Jesus, nailed up, saw the travail of his heart in the distance—you, little brother, little sister—he was satisfied! His heart of love grew too large, and broke, and was thrust open, like some sort of celebration piñata raining down a fountain of water to wash his little brothers and sisters clean for your Father and blood into the chalice to keep you strong so you never stray again. What is God the Father really like? He’s humiliated, so we can come home to our Father. He’s brokenhearted, so we can run to our Father. He’s unfair, so we can feast in our Father’s house. Amen. Now the peace of God that passes all understanding, guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, until life everlasting. Amen.

 

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