| Luke 15:11-32 "The Mothering Heart of God" |
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| Written by Rev. Don Lee | |
| Saturday, 23 September 2006 | |
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Every year we do an annual auction to raise funds for local and global missions. That auction is Saturday evening, September 30th. The auction funds raised are second mile giving. They are in addition to what the church receives from our members to fund the ongoing mission of the church. I want to ask you to make it a point to be at this year’s auction. Not only will you have the chance to bid on and win some great items but in the process, support some incredibly important ministries. You will be helping support United Methodist missionaries, global relief efforts, and local conference missions (to name a few) and I hope you will rearrange your schedule to be there. Invite a friend and plan to come and have fun! We turn our attention to the third major character in the narrative. The Father. Despite his placement to left of center in Rembrandt’s painting, there is a sense in which he is the center of focus. Both the characters faded in the background and those to the side and fore are turned toward him, drawing our eyes to this central character. The elder child stands motionless to one side….the younger child is buried in his arms. The elder is a distant bystander, locked in indecision. The younger, kneels in total humility, waiting. The elder stands in judgment; the younger pleads for forgiveness. Both seem frozen in time. It is the father that is in motion. Rembrandt does not paint the father running to his son, as described in Jesus’ parable. Rather he captures the kinetic energy of this motion in the father’s movement down toward the object of his affection. The appearance is not that the parent is collapsing onto his knees and into his son’s arms, but rather is reaching down to pull his son up. As if to say to this “ragamuffin,” pleading for grace, “This is not who you are…you are your mother and father’s son, the brother of an elder son. You are a child of God.” Even before he calls servants to clothe him; even before he orders the fatted calf to be prepared; even before he announces the celebration and word is spread; he has already said to his son what needs to be said in his embrace. His wearied frail frame moves to embrace the one thing his heart has longed for so long. There is a joy to his presence, a feeling of fulfillment, a heart finally happy and at peace. “My child, my beloved, I thought I had lost you forever….” Our gospel reading is Luke 15:11-32. I invite you to please stand as you are able and listen for the Good News. 11 Then Jesus said, ‘There was a man who had two sons. 12The younger of them said to his father, “Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.” So he divided his property between them. 13A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and travelled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. 14When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. 15So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. 16He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. 17But when he came to himself he said, “How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! 18I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; 19I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.’ ” 20So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. 21Then the son said to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” 22But the father said to his slaves, “Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; 24for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!” And they began to celebrate. 25 ‘Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. 26He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. 27He replied, “Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.” 28Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. 29But he answered his father, “Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. 30But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!” 31Then the father said to him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. 32But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.” ’ Prayer: Hear our Prayer, O Lord. As we open our minds and hearts to the Good News. We come wounded, scar’d, broken, Needing your grace in the worst sort of way. We come, Desperate for the touch of Jesus, (The Wounded healer) And ready to respond to your call to Kingdom Living. Amen. As I’ve mentioned previously, the behavior of the father throughout the parable is quite unexpected, countercultural, and even offensive for it’s 1st century Jewish audience. In the ancient Middle East, the father’s role was that of primary breadwinner, disciplinarian, authoritarian, and job skills instructor. The mother assumed the role of domestic engineer, nurturer, life skills teacher and advocate. But in the Jesus’ parable, the father’s actions clearly fulfill the traditional mothering role: The father resists the temptation to reject the child who has rejected him. He eagerly longs for the Prodigal’s return, and thus he sees him at a distance. Forgetting all propriety, the father runs and clings to his son. Dismissing traditional authoritarian and disciplinarian roles, the father responds compassionately, easily forgiving, refusing to even hear the son’s confession. He affirms the young man’s worth, and quickly restores him into the family. He helps him get dressed, organizes a party in honor of his homecoming (complete with menu!) He advocates for the prodigal, peace-making with the elder son, pleading (instead of demanding) reconciliation on the basis of family. And thus he remains with the elder son until his tantrum subsides and he (hopefully) relents. The image I keep thinking of a mother doing dishes (by the way, in my family I’m “Dishman”). As she keeps her hands busy, her mind is somewhere else. She worries about her son. Is he okay? Does he have food to eat and a clean, warm place to stay? Is he in danger? Does he have friends? And as she worries, she glances out through the kitchen window and instantly recognizes her son approaching. Even before she sees his face, she recognizes his shape and gait. The dish shatters in the sink as she runs wildly out the door to greet him. We watch this scene as it unfolds from the vantage point of her kitchen window. We see the mother as she throws her arms around her lost child, as if holding on to something for dear life, laughing and weeping at the same time. Even in our enlightened 21st century westernized culture, some of this runs contrary to traditional male imagery. These actions describe what the well-known German social commentators, Hans and Frans refer to as, “Girly men.” What Jesus has done here is reframed traditional concepts of God. This is not the God in whose presence, the sinner stands in fear and trembling; a God so holy, one cannot look upon God’s face and live. This is not a God whose laws are strict and unyielding; who looks “down” on humanity and whose justice treats people as they deserve. (And in that, we have a direct challenge to the religious leaders who questioned Jesus’ spirituality because he ate and partied with sinners). Check it out in Luke 15:1-2. On the contrary, God is not only approachable but runs to embrace us; refusing to even hear our confession, simply filled with gladness that we have returned home. This is a God who judges with grace and mercy and compassion. Who treats people better then they deserve. Who does not look down on us because of our sin and brokenness but who reaches down to raise us up (and this is powerful imagery for those of us committed to social justice). Thus we enact the reign of God when we raise up those our society deems “the least of these among us.” This is a God who forgets the past and holds with promise, the future. This is a God who celebrates every beloved human being…calling all of us, God’s children. A God who comes to us not only in our anger but in our injustice, (when our pride so easily lets us judge others or treat them harshly), and pleads with us on the basis of family, that we need to forgive and join in the celebration. This glimpse is of the mothering heart of God. Now I have to confess that for me this image is a challenging one. My mother having divorced my father, and in a sense, my sister and I as well, left me mistrusting and wounded. During much of my childhood we rarely saw my mom and I resented her decision and the feelings of abandonment it produced in me. It took me a long time to process, reflect, and find peace about what went into my mother’s decision to leave. To some degree we all bring our baggage to the theological process! (That’s so true, isn’t it!) Thus I resonate with those of you who had abusive fathers and thus find it unsettling to pray the “Our Father….” And yet despite my “issues” its clear to me who this God is, Jesus is talking about. In the words of Henry Nouwen, “God is the shepherd who goes looking for his lost sheep. God is the woman who lights a lamp, sweeps out the house, and searches everywhere for her lost coin until she has found it. God is the father who watches and waits for his children, runs out to meet them, embraces them, pleads with them, begs and urges them to come home.” p.106 As our concept of God is reframed we begin to recognize Jesus as the self-communication of God. This Jesus who: * weeps at the tomb of his friend, Lazarus; * who forgives those closest to him for betraying him; * who prays for those taking his life; * who promises “paradise” to those society condemns; In his heart there is room for both lost sons! God’s mothering REVEALS a creating and sustaining God who “all this time” has been trying to find us, know us, and love us. It is this Mothering heart that says to all of us, “My child, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.” I don’t know about you but this image of God challenges my quickness to demand my rights at the risk of maintaining my relationships! The March edition of Reader’s Digest tells the story of Jeff and Molly Jo Daly. Inside the article there is a thumbnail picture of Jeff, smiling happily with his sister, Molly bright eyed and giggling in his lap. Jeff Daly was separated from his baby sister, Molly when they were children. Jeff was just six when he realized his sister was gone. He asked his parents who told him, “She lives somewhere else now and she’s happy.” He continued to ask about Molly over the next several months until his mother told him firmly, “You’re not to talk about this anymore.” He eventually stopped asking. About a year a half ago, Jeff (now 54) came across his father’s wallet in the family home. This is three months after his mother died and less than a day after his father died of heart failure. He found a laminated card with his sister’s name on it and her social security number. That afternoon Jeff and his wife, Cindy discovered a crawl space by the water heater and in it, a cabinet full of old files including a file titled “Molly.” In it was the phone number of a group home in Oregon. “Do you know Molly Jo Daly?” they asked. The voice on the other end quietly responded, “She’s sitting right across from me.” Molly was one of the hundreds of thousands of mildly to severely developmentally disabled children institutionalized during the 1950’s. This is back when experts told parents that raising a child with a disability at home would be a burden to other children in the household. Support systems didn’t exist so most people felt they had no choice but to send the child away. Many of these “thrown-away” children grew up without being touched except to have their diapers changed or to be fed. Nine days shy of her 3rd birthday, Molly was admitted to Fairview Hospital in Salem, Oregon. Jeff learned that Molly spent her first year there in a room with 64 other children, most of the with Down Syndrome, with only one caregiver between them. On February 4, 2004 Jeff nervously rang the doorbell of the supervised group home where Molly, then 49, was living with four other adults like her. When he and Cindy walked into the living room, residents and staffers were sitting in a circle so everybody could have a ringside seat. Molly, who has the emotions and intellect of a young child, is blind in one eye and uses a wheelchair to get around, smiled and shyly turned her head as Jeff approached. Molly has made progress since her brother and sister in-law came into her life. “All these years nobody ever challenged Molly,” says Cindy. Molly’s vocabulary has doubled, she’s learned her colors and numbers and nursery songs. And they have a physical therapist working weekly with Molly in hopes that someday she will be able to walk. “We see a lot of potential there.” Molly will never be able to live on her own but she’s loved, cared for, and happy…and so are her brother and sister in law. Together they’ve rediscovered the gift of family. And isn’t that the journey we are all on? Discovering what its means to be a part of God’s family? Treating a human being as “damaged goods.” How tragic is that? Especially in light of our shared humanity, and our common brokenness. Truth is, we are all damaged but that doesn’t make us any less “God’s Beloved.” I am so pleased this church and it’s ministry to special needs children (Harvey’s Kids) witnesses to the truth that all children are beloved of God. Art historians place the painting of Rembrandt’s “Return of the Prodigal,” near his death, following a life of privilege disrupted by loss, grief, poverty and hardship. Three of Rembrandt’s four children died in infancy. His wife, Saskia, dies one year after the birth of their last child, Titus, the only child to live past childhood. Then followed a lawsuit, bankruptcy, and finally the death of Titus, only eleven months before Rembrandt’s own death at the age of 63. It is believed that Titus’ death occurred during the painting of The Return of the Prodigal Son- http://wvvw.tiu.edu/psychology/Twelker/rembrandt.htm “There is no sentimentality here,” writes Nouwen of Rembrandt’s painting. “No romanticism, no simplistic tale with a happy ending. What I see here is God as mother, receiving back into her womb the one whom she made in her own image. The near blind eyes, the hands, the cloak, the bent over body, they all call forth the divine maternal love, marked by grief, desire, hope, and endless waiting.” P. 100-101 In the Father we discover the Prodigal son, the obedient but resentful brother, and the parent who loves both unconditionally, are all one in the same! Thus, this is our story! It is our shared journey to discover the mothering heart of God that is within all of us. It is here that the potential for joy, unconditional, profoundly life-changing joy truly exists. During the writing of his book, Nouwen became the pastor of Daybreak, a community for the mentally impaired, in Toronto, Canada. He writes: “The father of the prodigal son gives himself totally to the joy that his returning son brings him. I have to learn from that. I have to learn to “steal” all the real joy there is to steal and lift it up for others to see…the reward of choosing joy is joy itself. Living among people with mental disabilities has convinced me of that. There is so much rejection, pain, and wounded-ness among us, but once you choose to claim the joy hidden in the midst of all suffering, life becomes celebration. Joy never denies the sadness, but transforms it to a fertile soil for more joy…People who have come to know the joy of God do not deny the darkness, but they choose not to live in it.” P.115-117 The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it. -John 1:5 A couple weeks ago I officiated the memorial of a friend. By her request and much to my discomfort, she had not only requested I give her memorial meditation but play my guitar and sing Amazing Grace. Despite its having been written over 200 years ago, for me this song speaks to me of the joy that is ours when we embrace God’s grace in Jesus and I’d like to share it with you. (Amazing grace is sung) As I’ve said, no homecoming is complete without a celebration….so it is to celebration that we look next week. |
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