Summary: Sermon for Fourth Sunday in Lent Sunday, March 10, 2013 Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32 From the age of five, to the age of twenty-five, I was in school. Twenty straight years of school. Grade school, middle school, high school, college, seminary. Along with that I read scores of books, I tremble at the thought of how many standardized tests I took. And you know, I thought I had a pretty good vocabulary; until this year, when I heard that word that we all heard - sequester. Or its more proper form - sequestration. And, well, at least sequester sounds less scary than its older brother, “the fiscal cliff.” Of course, budget battles and economic woes are not new issues. Human civilizations have been worrying about economics since we were trading wampum and beads. But all of this anxiety points to a deeper issue; an issue of which we need to be keenly aware. This is the mindset of scarcity. It’s that we, as humans, are always concerned with what we don’t have, rather than what we do have. We fret, agonize, and brood over the money that isn’t in our bank accounts, rather than giving thanks for the money that is in our bank accounts. And it’s not just money: love, hospitality, friendships. The deeper issue is that we tell ourselves there isn’t enough to go around for everybody. Like I said, this is nothing new. I’m not exposing some hidden, not revealed before, human secret. Because Jesus talks about it. This parable that he gives us this morning, the famous parable of the prodigal son, is about this mindset of scarcity. The parable of the prodigal son is about a budget battle. The younger son approaches his father and says, “Dad. I wish you were dead. So give me now what I’ll get when you die.” Amazingly, his father divides his property, and gives his younger, impetuous son, what was coming to him. Then, of course, the younger son gets what’s coming to him. He lives like a wastrel and squanders all that he has on booze and prostitutes. Hungry, penitent, and defeated, the younger son returns to his father. I can see him now - unshaven, sunken cheeks, ravaged by his wild living. We know how the story goes, his father, in a great turn of events, throws a party for him, welcomes him home, and celebrates. And then comes the older brother. The dutiful, somber older brother. And the budget battle kicks into high gear. “Dad! What are you doing? First you gave him half of all your money to live like a lecher! Now you’re spending even more money on his return! Do you want to go over the fiscal cliff?!” In a sense, the older brother is also wishing that his father was dead. Because the older brother isn’t concerned about his father’s well-being. All the older brother is concerned about is receiving his inheritance too. He’s concerned that his dad is blowing through the family fortune before he gets any of it. Really, when it boils down to it, both these brothers wish their father was dead so that they could have their cut of the family treasure. At least the younger son eventually learns about generosity; a lesson the older brother never learns. The older brother remains in the mindset of scarcity. Now, I want to focus on the father. Notice the words that the father never utters. The father never says “no.” His younger son comes to him and says, “Dad, give me half of everything.” And dad says, “yes.” The father isn’t afraid of scarcity. He lives with abundance. When his younger son comes back, the father gives him the best of everything. The best robe, the best ring, the best sandals. He even kills the fattened calf. The father doesn’t care about what his son has done. The father just accepts him home with radical generosity. And when the older brother approaches and reproaches his father about this prodigious expenditure, the father again acts with generosity. The father says to the older son, “All that is mine is yours.” The father is not worried about going over a fiscal cliff. The father is too joyful to be afraid.
