One Sunday morning, not too long ago, a mother and her two young daughters arrived at St John's for the 10:15 service. The young woman "deposited" her children in the church school, and proceeded to the nave for the liturgy. On reaching the ramp door, Garth saw the woman and asked how her dad was making out. Garth had been advised that the young woman's father had been taken to hospital during the night. Unfortunately, this information was news to the woman. Understandably, she decided to forego the service, return home immediately, and find out about her dad.

On her way out, the young woman stopped by the church school to pick up the kids. One of the little girls - the younger daughter - did not want to leave with her mom, and started to protest. The issue (as you might imagine) was non-negotiable. The young woman took the little girl by the hand, and proceeded to the door. As she was leaving, the little one could be heard still arguing with her mom. "But, I cant' go. I can't go. The church needs me!" (I should mention that Hans has made a complete recovery, and that little Erin is "needed" here at St John's more than ever.)

"The church needs me." That point is made clear in our reading for today from second Corinthians. The church needs each and every one of us for ministry: in particular, for the ministry of reconciliation - the ministry of restoring right relationships. These include relationships between individuals and God, and relationships between individuals and other persons. As Rick Warren suggests in A Purpose Driven Life, "relationships are always worth restoring."
[Please see "Second Thoughts" on this point, immediately following this sermon.]

This morning I would like to reflect on our gospel - the well-known (well-worn) parable of the Prodigal Son - as a story about relationships. I will underscore certain elements of the parable that I believe are important at this time in the life of our church, and that I would commend to your further reflection.

By way of introduction, I would note (for the record) that the context of the story is one of controversy. Jesus is found in the company of persons deemed undesirable, and the Pharisees are upset. (Enough said.)

For my purpose this morning, I think the best way to examine the parable is to consider the principle characters of the story in turn. With the help of these characters, I will explore three diverse elements of my central focus: relationships, and the restoration thereof.

First, then, let's consider the younger son. The younger son is the "prodigal." For reasons unknown to the reader, he chooses to sever his relationships with his father and brother, and travel to a distant country. Robert Capon, an Episcopalian priest and author, who has written extensively on this parable, has called this younger son, Arthur. I prefer to call him "Bob."

Bob, we are told, was a sower of wild oats, a foolish young man who squandered the gifts of life - his time, his talent, and his money - "in dissolute living." (Luke 15:13)

However, when Bob reached rock bottom, he "came to himself," he changed his thinking about his life, and conceived a plan to recover his former status: the plan was simple, he would earn it. Bob carefully crafted and rehearsed a confessional speech for his father, which ended with these words: "treat me like one of your hired hands." Then he set off to go home.

When his father saw Bob from a distance, his heart filled with compassion. He ran to greet him, to embrace him, and to kiss him. He did not utter a single word - not one word of admonition, of judgement, or condemnation. I think it's important to observe that Bob, likewise, does not utter a word - does not offer his well-crafted confession - until after his father has embraced him, clothe him in lavish garments, and poured forth his unconditional love towards him. In this regard, I find these words of Capon particularly insightful. Capon writes:

"What this says to you and me who have to live with the business of trying to confess our sins is that confession is not a pre-condition of forgiveness. It's something that you do after you know you have been forgiven. Confession is not something you do in order to get forgiveness. It's something you do in order to celebrate the forgiveness you got for nothing. Nobody [nobody] can earn forgiveness." ("The Father Who Lost Two Sons," emphasis added)

For Capon, and others, repentance - that theological concept that we speak about so often in Lent - is understood as the restoration of relationship between God and the individual. From this perspective, Bob's act of repentance took place within the father's embrace: in the instant that Bob "changed his mind" about the nature of his relationship with his father; in the instant he recognized that he had been lost and now was found; in the instant he accepted the full measure of his father's love for him, and understood (for the first time) that his status, his worth, his "son-ship" was rooted and grounded in that love. Bob's repentance - his metanoeo - took place in the instant he recognized that he was his father's son because his father loved him unconditionally. This relationship had nothing whatsoever to do with merit. This relationship could not, could never, be earned.

This perspective on our text is, as you may appreciate, quite different from the traditional view. However, I personally believe that it's faithful to the biblical witness, and that it "coheres" with much of my own lived experience. Thus, I would commend it to your own reflection as we proceed together on our Lenten journey.

Now, let us turn to Bob's father. The father not only receives his younger son with great joy, he wants to celebrate the restoration of their relationship. He wants to kill a fatted calf, and host a party. In antiquity, a fatted calf would not be served at an "ordinary" dinner. The clear implication of the text is that the whole village would be invited to the father's feast. One scholar has written: "The father is making a public gesture to proclaim his acceptance of his son so that the whole community will follow suit." (Tannahill) I repeat: "The father is making a public gesture to proclaim his acceptance of his son so that the whole community will follow suit."

Let's turn now to the elder son, who I will call "Bill." We know that the father must leave his party to speak to Bill. Bill, too, it seems, has very little understanding of the relationship that exists between father and son. Like Bob, Bill does not really know his father. If Bob is the "Child of Grace" in this parable, Bill is the "Child of Law." (John Landgraf) "I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command." (Luke15: 29) The elder son considers himself an obedient slave to his father, and has spent his life trying to measure up to the highest standards of servitude. He is resentful, angry, and bitter. He does not even speak the word, "father," when addressing the older man, and refers to his brother (with ice cold scorn) simply as "your son."

His father must remind the son of the relationships in which the son is embedded, the relationships which nurture and sustain him. He must remind the son of the father's constant love, and constant presence in his life. He must remind the son that he has given to him the gift (and gifts) of a joy-filled life - a life characterized by freedom, not servitude. He must remind the son that "all that is mine is yours." (Luke 15:31) And he must remind the son that "one can not be a son without being a brother." (Culpepper) That Bob is Bill's brother. That he was dead and has come to new life; that he was lost and has been found; that he is home now. And this is cause for great celebration.

As I considered this text this week, in the context of our life at St John's - as individuals, and as a community - I was reminded that our church is in the midst of controversy. This, no doubt, will always be so. There will always be some measure of discord (some measure of "upset") in such a diverse group.

I was reminded also that we are a "relational" people, and that "all relationships are worth restoring." I was reminded that - as a community of faith - we are called to (we are entrusted with) the ministry of reconciliation, the ministry of restoring right relationships: relationships between individuals and God, and between individuals and others.

And I was reminded that God calls us to make a very public display of God's acceptance, and God's love, for all persons. All persons.

I pray we are equal to the task. Amen.