The Two Faces of Sin
Dr. Jim Wilson, March 14, 2010 Suddenly, the lights went on in my head. It was as if someone had flipped a switch. I was embarrassed that it took so long for me see the matter clearly. It was so very obvious. I was in a third conversation with Ahmed Arafat, the imam at the local mosque. Ahmed had stopped by a few weeks earlier after the worship service and asked if we could discuss theology. I agreed. The conversations were challenging, insightful and enjoyable. He had a number of questions about how Jesus could be both God and human, the Trinity, and the resurrection. And they were profound questions. As we discussed them, it seemed to me we could go so far and then we would get stuck. It was as if there was a barrier we could not penetrate. It was frustrating for both of us. That is when the lights went on. I said, “Ahmed, I think I know the source of our difficulty. Theological understanding for Christians emerges largely from a narrative, a story. Theological understanding for Islam emerges from propositions. The Bible is filled with stories about God and God’s people. The Qu’ran on the other hand is filled with statements.” That proved helpful. I even pointed to the story in our text as an example. When Jesus wanted to teach about sin and forgiveness, he chose to use a story. He could have presented a rational, academic lecture on the topics, but he didn’t. He told a story because that is how we tend to make sense out of life. We tell stories to find meaning. So he presents his listeners with this story that has become so familiar and well-beloved, despite being misnamed as “The Prodigal Son.” As we probe it this morning, hopefully you will experience how it helps make sense out of your life, and perhaps understand why I think it is misnamed, So, let’s begin. Every story has a context. Luke tells us the context here is the grumbling of the scribes and Pharisees about the people with whom Jesus is associating---the tax collectors and assorted sinners. Not only does Jesus associate with these outcasts, but he eats with them which is an act of acceptance. Jesus is clearly in violation not only of custom for religious leaders but also of the law itself. Jesus tells his story in response to the grumbling. “There was a man,” Jesus begins, “who had two sons.” One day the younger son said to his father, “Father, give me my share of the property that will belong to me.” In short he is saying, “Dad, just drop dead, so we can read the will right now.” Surprisingly, the father agrees with the request and gives his younger son his portion of the property and the kid immediately heads out to a far country. Once in the far country, he quickly squanders his inheritance on desolate living. A famine arises is the land, the kid is broke, and the only work he can find is on a pig farm---that is about as bad as it gets for a Jewish boy. One day he was so hungry, he would have gladly eaten the pods the pigs were eating but no one gave him anything. There is nothing like a little time slopping hogs to bring one to their senses. The boy comes to the conclusion that maybe life at home wasn’t that bad after all---even his father’s servants have enough to eat. So, he hits upon a plan. He will return home, confess his sin to his father, and ask to be received back not as a son but as a hired hand. So, he begins the long journey home from the far country, carefully rehearsing his speech as he walked along the road. While he was still at some distance from home, his father sees him, and “filled with compassion,” rushes out to greet him, gives him a hug and kisses him. The startled son begins to make his well-rehearsed speech, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you…” But his father interrupts, ordering his servants, “Quickly, go get a robe and put it on him, and a ring for his finger, and sandals for his feet. And tell the other servants to kill the fatted calf and prepare a party, “for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.” And the party began. Some of us may think or perhaps wish that Jesus had ended the story here. But he didn’t. There is another son, after all, an elder brother, the one who has been out in the field working all day. As he comes in from the field, he hears the music and sees the dancing and asks, “What is going on?” One of the servants tells him, “Your brother has come home, and your father decided to kill the fatted calf and throw a party in celebration. Understandably, the elder brother is outraged and refuses to go into in the house. His father comes out to him pleads with him to come to the party. The elder son’s anger spews forth: “All these years, I have worked like a slave for you. Never once did I disobey you. Yet, you have never given me so much as a goat to celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours comes home after devouring your property with prostitutes, you throw him a party!” Can you not feel his anger? But the father says to him: “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 dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.” It certainly is one powerful story. Each time I spend time with it, I realize once again why it is so beloved. Yet, as one writer suggests, Jesus’ stories, especially his parables, are like a Trojan horse, once you let them into your life, they can turn your life upside down. So, I believe, is the case with this story. For instance, when we let this story intersect our story, do you see anyone you know in that younger son---anyone whose life is marked by self-indulgence, who side-steps ethics for self-gain, who cares only for themselves, their hopes and dreams? We live in a consumer-driven economy where self-indulgence has become an art form. In a culture that seems to encourage narcissism, all too often we are urged to be busy self-actualizing ourselves in some far country of self-indulgence. Do we know people like this? Of course we do. For Jesus these were the outcasts---the tax collectors who sold out to the Romans and greed, and the sinners who rejected the law and traditions. For us, we need look no further than the lifestyles of the rich and famous, or the business practices that plunged our economy into near oblivion. It is all about greed and self-indulgence. When the mirror is held up, there are times when I see myself, when I must plead guilty. I too practice self-indulgence. I leave you to ponder your own situation. Self-indulgence is one face of sin. There is a second face. We see it in the elder brother. If the tax collectors and sinners were seen in the face of self-indulgence, the scribes and Pharisees are seen in the face of self-righteousness. The elder son has been the good son, the son who obeyed the father, who followed the rules. So why does his irresponsible, disobedient brother get the party? Why doesn’t his obedience and good behavior receive a reward? And make no mistake; it is the party that really angers him. He doesn’t object to his father welcoming the younger brother home, but it should be with bread and water, not the fatted calf, with sackcloth, not a robe, with ashes, not a ring, with tears and confession, not music and dancing---and with a couple of “I told you so’s” and “I hope you learned your lesson” for good measure. But no, the father gives this irresponsible brat a party. We can understand his anger. He is grumbling like scribes and Pharisees, maybe even like you and me, those who have been faithful and obedience and wonder “Where is our reward?” His sin, says Jesus, is the other face of sin, the face of self-righteousness. He believed that faithfulness entitled him to a party, a reward. What he did not understand is that forgiveness is grounded in grace, and grace is never a matter of merit. Jesus’ story presents us with the two faces of sin---the face self-indulgence and the face of self-righteousness. But the story also tells us about God’s forgiveness. God is like the waiting father, says Jesus, the One who waits for the younger son to come home from the far country, the One who waits for the elder son to join the party, the One who waits for both sons, for he claims them both even in their sin---such is the power of God’s forgiving grace. It sets us free from self-indulgence and welcomes us not as a hired hand but as a son or daughter. It sets us free from self-righteousness and invites us to come and join the party, reminding us we do not have to earn what is a gift. Like any good story, the ending is left open. Will the younger son accept forgiveness and live as a son? Will the elder brother accept forgiveness and join the part? Will we, you and I? For here the story intersects our story---just as Jesus intended. How we answer is critical. It speaks of our forgiveness. If you do not know to whom you belong, who it is that awaits you, you are apt to fall victim to any passing novelty. It confronts us with the unlimited offer of forgiveness. So now we know Jesus’ eating with outcasts is not an act of social broadmindedness. It is the way of grace. So now we know Jesus’ confronting the church with its “elder brother” legalism, is not hostility. It is the way of grace. Both are evidences of God’s grace reaching out and setting us free, turning both faces of sin toward Him. Perhaps now you see why I believe the story is misnamed. Do you think we might rename the story something like, “The Two Sons,” or “The Waiting Father.”? Either might better capture the story’s meaning. By the way, God is still waiting---for you and me to accept the invitation! Thanks be to God! Amen! |
