UNOBS CLR VUE

First Congregational Church – Wauwatosa, Wisconsin
Fourth Sunday in Lent - March 18, 2007
Rev. Steven A. Peay, Ph.D.
[Texts: 2 Corinthians 5:16-21 /Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

            I remember when I first came to Wauwatosa and was sharing a bedroom (I got the lower bunk) with my colleague’s son. I knew I had to get an apartment and so started looking. That’s when I first encountered the shorthand used by advertisers, especially those in the real estate business. Since then I have figured out that ‘nfp’ stands for ‘natural fire place’ and ‘brn’ means ‘breakfast nook.’ We’ll see those things here in the Milwaukee area, but the New Yorkers have raised this to an art. They’ll describe far more, like “2brms, rv vue,” which translates into two bedrooms, river view. Well, reading the Gospel lesson for today made me think that the way we’d title this story in an ad is “UNOBS CLR VUE,” unobstructed clear view; let me explain.           

The old saying "familiarity breeds contempt" might be just a tad strong, but I do think that when we hear things again and again they can lose their impact. Even familiar scripture stories tend to only go half-heard, since we're sure that we know what the story is about and, more importantly, how it turns out. Most of us have heard the story from Luke about the 'Prodigal Son' many, many times. Some folks even think that the word 'prodigal' has to do with a 'returning' son. They don't realize that the word means, "Recklessly extravagant, characterized by wasteful expenditure, lavish." We don’t always come at these stories with a clear view; we obstruct them with all sorts of layers of meaning, some good and some not-so-good. Familiarity makes us think we know how the story turns out, but do we?

            Sure, the story shows us a son who was prodigal in the strictest sense of the word. He told his father that he was as good as dead to him, "give me my share of the inheritance NOW!" He dishonored his family by the way he used the money and even ended up tending unclean animals. Worse yet, he was reduced to the point where he envied the food those pigs ate, a fine situation for a good Jewish boy, no? Oh yes, he was prodigal in every sense of the word. He takes and takes and all of his taking, his selfishness, just leads him to think of himself as completely unworthy, reduced to the same level as his father’s slaves, reduced even to the level of an animal; his view of himself and of his relationship with his father became obstructed, obstructed by the situation he’d placed himself in and how he was dealing with it.

            At last, and of course we all know the story, this younger son came to his senses and realized just how wrong he had been. So back he came to his father, his story all neatly worked-out in his head. I would think that most of us could certainly identify with that. After all, how many of us have had to come to talk to our parents, or a professor, or a boss and made sure we've got our story just so? Here, however, we see real prodigality in the father's reaction. He knew the whole time that the boy would blow it; still he gave him the money, let him go his way, and never stopped watching for him to come back. So when this ragged wastrel showed up on the path, the father didn't wait for him to come crawling back. No, he went running to meet him. Do you have any idea how unseemly that was? Men in the Middle East of that time ran for no one! First, it was inconvenient -- pulling those long robes up isn't easy. Second, it was undignified because it showed the man's leg, it just showed poor taste, which should resonate with us here in Wauwatosa. None of that mattered, at all. The father ran to meet the son.

            Did he kick him when he got to him? Did he slap him upside the head? Did he say, "You ungrateful wretch, I told you nothing good would come of this!"? No. He did none of those things. He embraced him and wept for joy. Then he told the servants to prepare the best dinner ever, instructed them to call the neighbors over, and prepare to party! He took this 'waster of resources,' or as my late Grandmother would have said, "This waste of breath," and restored him right back to where he was. Clean clothes, new shoes, and a shiny ring on the finger as though nothing had happened. Not even one "I told you so"!

            Who's the prodigal here? It is the son or is it the father?

            Now, Jesus throws in a plot twist. Remember those first few verses we read that "tax collectors and sinners were coming to listen to him. And the Pharisees and scribes were grumbling"? There's this other, older, brother who's been prodigal in a different way. He's not allowed himself to see the affection in his relationship with his father. Thus, he's angry because he's always been good, always done what he's been told, always completed his work on time, and always been where he should be. He's also always done it because he was afraid of what would happen if he didn't always behave in that way. This older son had been a prodigal in the extravagant resentment he'd built up. He’d worked and worked and while he saw himself as worthy, he still saw himself as a slave to his father – his view was obstructed by his resentment.

            What's the older brother's reaction to his brother's return? He comes in from doing what he always saw as dreary work and there's a party going on. He asked, "What's the occasion?" He gets the answer, "Your brother's back and your father is throwing a welcome home party." His reaction? "Let the idiot suffer!" Obviously, this younger brother did wrong and he should pay for it! When his father came out to invite him into dinner, he reacted with incredible bitterness toward him. Even after having been accused of being a slave driver and a fool, the father still loved the older son; loved him just like he loved the younger son, despite his faults.

            You see, neither of these sons had an unobstructed view or valid relationship with their father. Each of them really serves to show us not their nature, but the nature of the father. The older "good son" was duty-bound, took his own goodness for granted, did his work out of fear rather than love, and begrudged his father's graciousness. The 'material boy' younger son had no sense of duty took the father and his resources for granted, saw him as a meal ticket, and abused his father's graciousness. What's the consistent point here? The father still loved them both. These two sons each stood apart from their father: one in self-righteousness, the other in self-destructiveness. These sons represent those who were listening to Jesus, some who stood apart by their religious superiority complex and others by their sin.

            While most of us think that we identify more with the younger son, the prodigal, I would suggest that it is the older son we should consider. Very few of us have been in outright rebellion. Very few of us have ever tried deliberately to be bad or to be profligate. Rather, we've tried hard to do the right thing, to be good. Surely we can identify with the older son, who knew how hard he tried and then saw his stupid sibling celebrated in his place?

Come on, what's wrong with this picture? The one who blew a chunk of the family fortune is getting a party and the good kid is watching outside! Reminds me of a story I once heard about a little girl that was found standing outside the banquet hall of a big hotel where they were holding a dinner for handicapped children and crying her eyes out. When asked what the matter was she wailed, "I can't get in. There’s nothing the matter with me!" There's the older brother; he can't get in because he thinks there's nothing wrong with him. He's secure in his own sense of rightness and goodness and doesn't realize that his attitude and his heart are crippled. He's always served, he's always been good, but not because he cared or loved, only because he was always afraid not to.

Perhaps we need to consider both sides of this story? The one son obsesses on the evil he has done and just can’t let go of it, can’t get beyond his actions, so he ends up in despair. Like him, some of us need to realize that we've blown the family inheritance; we've made major mistakes and need to come home. But we need to accept the grace waiting for us, letting go of the baggage and moving on in the relationship God offers to us. The other son obsesses on all the ‘shoulds’ of his life – I once read somewhere that we ought not “should all over ourselves” – and focuses on the rewards he should have in return for his work and ends up in resentment. Again, the answer is grace, dropping the sense of entitlement and looking to the wonderful gifts of life God freely gives us. It’s all about dropping the things which obstruct our clear view of God and of each other. So, like the older brother, others of us need to look at how dreary and defective our attitudes and our reason for serving God have been and come to a change of heart.

Then we need to consider the whole point of the story: God loves us, regardless. God has an unobstructed clear view of us, of our need, of our potential and God desires to be in relationship with us. The prodigious love of God is there, just like that father was, with arms wide open and heart open even wider, always taking an unobstructed clear view. There is love for the child who comes home, rehearsing the story, and there is love for the child who's always been there and has always been loved, if only eyes and heart would open to realize it. Who's the real prodigal here? God. God loves us, loves us extravagantly, where we are.

God's prodigious love calls us home to the Promised Land and feeds us along the way. We don't have to envy animals their food, because God provides a banquet for us. God's prodigious love calls us to reconciliation, harmony, and friendship with God and with each other. As Paul tells the Corinthians, "we are new creations." All it takes is the "big bang" of faith and we have an opportunity to start over, to be renewed and to see people in a whole new way, with a clear view unobstructed changing our familiar preconceptions of God, of self, and of other people.

I think it's important for us to also see that while this story tells us that God is "like a father," it's not about God's maleness, nor is it limited to parents. This story uses human elements and ideas to try and capture a love that is beyond our imagination, beyond our capacity to conceive or articulate. God's love outstrips our limited language and limited thoughts. Jesus wants us to understand that God loves us unconditionally, loves us just as we are.

If we open ourselves to this love, we can't remain the same. Once we allow ourselves to experience the love of God, we are so filled with God's presence and peace that we can't help but love others. Our actions, our attitudes must conform to God's, because we are made in God's image and likeness restored to us by Jesus Christ. You see, as I've told you before, using Francis de Sales' words, "The measure of love is to love without measure." God sets the standard and waits with open arms and open heart for each of us.

So, do we look at this story with an obstructed view or listen to this story in the same old way? Do we say, "Yeah, yeah, God loves us. I know that." and go on being the same, living the same, thinking the same? How can we? If we really turn to God and love God, as we ought, it will show. If it doesn't show, perhaps we need to walk the path, or open our eyes to what's always been there, because God's prodigious love waits for each of us. We should be thankful that we serve a prodigal God, a God with an unobstructed clear view. Perhaps our love, our attitude, our action should reflect our service?  So, where do we fit in this story, do we have the unobstructed clear view or do we end up, like some hotel rooms I’ve had, looking out the window on a brick wall? You see, the story is the same, but the ending is entirely up to us.