CHRISTIANITY 101: GOD IS LOVE
In the summer of 1997, my sister’s 18-month old baby died. I flew down to Phoenix, Arizona to conduct the funeral. Seeing the devastation in the eyes of my sister – not to mention my mother and my father – made it one of the most trying experiences of my life. In any case, while I was there, I discovered that my sister’s husband’s sister – my brother-in-law’s sister and her husband – had also endured the trauma of losing a baby. After the funeral was over, my brother-in-law’s sister’s husband came up to me to thank me for doing the funeral. Then he talked about his own experience of losing a baby. I remember him specifically saying, “We’ve got to be so good now.” I said, “What do you mean, you’ve got to be so good now?” He said, “We’ve got to be so good now…or we’ll never see our baby again.”
Therein lies another false narrative about God. It assumes that we’ve got to be good in order to earn God’s favor. Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying we shouldn’t be good. The false narrative here lies in the assumption that God only loves us when we are good. Does God only love us when we’re good? Keep that thought in mind as we move on.
Several weeks ago, we talked about the contrast between our tendency to gratify the desires of the flesh and the Apostle Paul’s call for us to live by the guidance of God’s Holy Spirit. We noted how human will power lacks the capacity to change much of anything within us. Change happens when something else is modified. What is it that needs to be modified? What needs to be modified is our personal narrative of who and what God is. We need to have the proper story in our minds as to who and what God is, if we’re ever going to change who and what we are, because everything about us stems from our own internal narrative.
As Jesus is God incarnate, we determined to let Jesus establish our new internal narrative. We noted how many people tend to see God as an angry judge. Citing a passage from the gospel of John, Jesus and his disciples encountered a man who was blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned – this man or his parents – that he was born blind?” In their minds, it had to be one or the other. Blindness was believed to be punishment from an angry God. Jesus set out to establish a new narrative within them. He quickly replied, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned. He was born blind that the works of God might be made manifest in him.” In other words, “God is good; God wills the good…and the glory of God will ultimately be revealed in him.” Then Jesus healed the man born blind. The point is that God wills what’s best for us. The problem is that we don’t see the big picture as God sees the big picture. Yet the narrative Jesus clearly sets out to establish here…is that God is good.
We considered how much of our experience might lead us to believe that God cannot be trusted. Why, even Jesus was not spared the agony of the cross when he begged God to do so. Thus, what we did was embark upon the process of conducting a spiritual inventory. In other words, we took the time to count our blessings. What we discovered is that while our troubles are indeed very real, they are really quite small compared to God’s widespread mercy. The more we are able to comprehend how many blessings we really have – freely given and freely received – the more we come to realize that God truly does will what’s best for us. And when that moment of revelation occurs, we can’t help but discover that God is indeed trustworthy.
Then we explored what we called a performance-based narrative. A performance-based narrative dictates that the good are rewarded with good, while the bad are rewarded with bad. The problem with a performance-based narrative is that it completely neglects the concept of grace. Thus, while looking at the parable of the laborers in the vineyard, we encountered a landowner who gave not on the basis of what the laborers earned, but rather, on the basis of his abundant generosity. Jesus’ intent, of course, was to equate the landowner with God. We discovered that, while the way of the world may be survival of the fittest, the way of God is generosity to a fault.
I spoke earlier about a man who lost a baby. He was convinced that he and his wife had to be incredibly good if they were ever going to see their baby again. Where’s the grace of God in that? Can you imagine the pressure that must have put upon them? Can you imagine the guilt they would occasionally feel? Ladies and gentlemen, that, too, is a performance-based narrative. Last week we considered the story of a man for whom things went sour, and he was absolutely convinced that God must be punishing him for something he did wrong. That was part and parcel to a performance-based narrative…yet so is today’s story. A man and his wife were convinced that God would only reward them if they were good. A performance-based narrative about God insists that the good are rewarded with good, while the bad are rewarded with bad. There is no grace in that. Thus, today we want to attempt to replace that narrative with the narrative that God is love.
In order to do that, I want to examine the parable of the prodigal son. Yet before we get to the parable of the prodigal son, it is absolutely imperative that we understand its context. As you know, Jesus called a number of individuals to be his disciples. One of those individuals was a man by the name of Matthew. Now Matthew was a tax collector, and tax collectors were despised in Jesus’ day. They were ordinary Hebrew citizens who had contracted with the Roman government to collect taxes. They were notorious for overcharging the Jewish citizenry, and for keeping any excess for themselves. Thus, they were seen as traitors, and were widely perceived to be unscrupulous. No one liked tax collectors in Jesus’ day, yet Jesus called one of them to be a disciple. What’s more, on occasion, he even dined with tax collectors.
This was more than the scribes and Pharisees could stand. Then one day Jesus was speaking to a large crowd of people. As it says in Luke 15:1, “And all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to hear him.” The scribes and Pharisees began to grumble amongst themselves, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them!” In other words, “Jesus is obviously unaware of the character of the people with whom he associates. How could he possibly be the Messiah?”
Jesus was apparently aware of their grumbling. He tells them a brief parable about the joy of finding a lost sheep, and another brief parable about the joy of finding a lost coin. Then he gets to the parable of the prodigal son. Now there are actually three primary players in this drama – and each has a vital role – as we shall soon see.
There once was a man who had two sons. The younger of the two came to his father and said, “Father, give me the share of property that falls to me.” In other words, “You’re going to die some day and I’m going to get half of all you own. Let’s dispense with the formalities. Just give it to me now.” How would you react if one of your children did that to you?
This father actually gave his son half of all he owned. Then the young man went out and – as Luke so tactfully puts it – “squandered his inheritance on dissolute living.” Luke is being kind. He’s sparing us all of the gory details. Well, the young man eventually ran out of money. He ended up taking a job feeding pigs, yet even the pigs ate better than he did. The young man came to his senses and decided to return to his father – not as a son – but as a hired hand. He would confess his sin and throw himself upon the mercy of his father.
Unbeknownst to the young man, his father longed for his return. He probably got up every morning, had his breakfast, and – while sipping his morning coffee – looked out the window and scanned the horizon in search of his son. His heart would likely rise every time he saw someone, then fall when he realized it was not his son. But then one day, it was his son.
The father raced to his son. His son tried to make his confession, but the father would hear none of it – so overjoyed was he at the return of his son. He laid a robe over his shoulders, he placed a ring upon his finger, he killed the fatted calf, and he threw the biggest party that region had seen in years. When the older brother caught wind of it – the son who had remained faithful to his father for lo, these many years – he was none too pleased. We’ll come back to the older brother later.
I think what Jesus intends in this parable is for us to see the father as God, and the prodigal son as the world of lost sinners. As the father in the parable gave his son half of all he owned, God gives us the gift of free will. He will not force us to be faithful to him. He wants us to choose to be faithful to him. Thus, he allows us to go out in the world and experience life as we choose. Some come to realize that life in the father’s house is better. Some come to that realization sooner than others, and some never come to it at all. Yet all the while, God scans the horizon, hoping for our return. You see, there’s a difference between hating the sin and hating the sinner. That, my friends, is because God the Father loves us unconditionally. Whether we are good or whether we are bad, God loves us unconditionally.
I got a fascinating glimpse into what unconditional love really is a few days ago while I was working out at the Y.M.C.A. I was running on an elliptical machine, and a friend of mine was running next to me. He is 74 years old, and he tragically lost a son in an automobile accident a number of years ago. He was telling me about his grandchildren. His eyes lit up as he described them to me. I said, “And the best part is – at the end of the day – you can send them home!” He laughed, but I don’t think he felt that way at all. He said, “I never knew what unconditional love was…until I had grandkids.”
I got to thinking about that. As parents, we think we know what unconditional love is, but maybe we really don’t. I thought of a couple of classic Bill Cosby routines. His father used to say to him, “I brought you into this world, I can take you out. I can make another one…look just like ya!” His mother used to say to him, “I hope you’ve got clean underwear on!” Young Bill would reply, “Yes, I’ve got clean underwear on!” His mother would say, “You’d better have clean underwear on. What if you got into an accident and had to go to the hospital? If they had to take your pants off, what would people think of me if you didn’t have on clean underwear? What would people think of me?” Bill replied, “But Mom…I’m the one in the hospital!”
As parents we have a responsibility to raise our children right. And often times, we see them as a reflection on us. Sometimes I think we get so caught up in that, that we forget what a treasure they really are. A grandparent doesn’t get caught up in all that. In fact, I’ve never seen anyone any more heartbroken that a grandmother who raised her children in the church, and then sees her own children fail to raise her grandchildren in the church. A grandparent knows what it means to love unconditionally, maybe even better than a parent. God knows what it means to love unconditionally, as well. After all, that’s exactly how he looks at us.
Now back to the older brother. He’d been loyal to his father all of his life, while his younger brother had taken advantage of their father and squandered his inheritance on dissolute living. Then when his brother came back – when the prodigal son returned – his father threw him the biggest party he’d ever seen. The older brother was angry, and refused to go in the house.
Do you remember how we talked about the context of the parable of the prodigal son? It was in response to the scribes and Pharisees being critical of Jesus for dining with sinners and tax collectors. This part of the parable was directed at them. They’d been faithful to God all their lives. They didn’t appreciate the fact that all this fuss was being made over lost sinners. They were, in essence, the older brother in this parable.
I think a lot of us can relate to the older brother here, as well. Many of us have been faithful to God all our lives. Oh, we may have taken a bad turn here and there – after all, a lot of us went to college – but for the most part, we have been faithful to God all our lives. And Jesus is saying here that those who come to the faith at the last minute are entitled to all of that to which we are entitled as well? That doesn’t seem fair, does it? How can God consider these sinners to be on equal footing with us?
God can do it because God loves us unconditionally. Like I said earlier, there is a difference between hating the sin and hating the sinner. We may not approve of everything our children do, but does that affect the love we have for them? I don’t think it does. In fact, I think the gospel according to John puts God’s perspective on this quite well. John writes, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have eternal life.” That’s John 3:16. But when we read John 3:16, we must never forget John 3:17. John 3:17 says, “For God sent the Son into the world – not to condemn the world – but that the world might be saved through him.” And there you have it; a new narrative about God. God…is love.
But what about the older brother in the parable of the prodigal son? He refused to go in to the party, so his father came out to him. He said, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was lost and now is found.”
We don’t know what the older brother ultimately did. Did he go in to the party and welcome his brother, or did he stand in the field and pout? Jesus does not give us the answer. And maybe that’s a good thing. Considering what you now know about the unconditional love of God, what would you have done? Amen.