Justice or Mercy

By

Reverend Litton Logan

March 18, 2007

Scriptures:

Luke 15:1-3;11-32 (NRSV)

¹Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. ²And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” ³So he told them this parable:

 ¹¹Then 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 traveled 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.’”

Sermon:

I believe we often miss the fullest impact of the story of the Prodigal Son because we sentimentalize it.

          The story of The Prodigal Son capitalizes on a very old motif in scripture: The reversal motif—the younger brother supplanting the older brother, the first becoming last and the last becoming the first.  We first see this in the story of Cain and Able, as well as Isaac-Ishmael, Esau-Jacob, Joseph and his brothers, Benjamin and his brothers, David and his brothers, Gideon and his brothers, etc.   In each of these stories, God chooses to use the non-traditional, the unconventional, the younger brothers as God’s instruments instead of the first-born—the one supposedly dedicated to the Lord and so highly prized by the biblical community. 

          Let me remind you that Cain’s sin of murder grew out of the natural human capacity for enmity in all of us that found expression in his resentment toward God because he as the first born, the pride of his mother, felt slighted by God according to his sense of justice and fairness and took it out on Abel.  With Abel out of the way, God would notice Cain, appreciate him, and blessed him. Cain’s error in thinking as was Job’s lies in the fact that he wanted God to conform to his standards of justice and sense of things. We see Cain’s resentment and enmity boil up in the older brother of the Prodigal Son.

Let me say at the beginning, I’ve never like this parable because anyway you cut it, it is truly unfair to the elder son.  The eldest son should have been praised, appreciated, and favored because he was a good, responsible son.   I am the eldest son of two sons.  I had to accommodate my twerp of a little brother many times simply because he was younger. I understand the older brother’s resentment. 

          As is the case with the first born, parents really, get into doing their parental thing.   My parents were going to make sure I turned out all right.  However, along comes my brother and things change.  My parents are more confident as parents; child rearing is a little more plastic than they thought. So, in my thinking my parents over corrected with my brother and indulged him.

          Therefore, I hear this parable in Luke emotionally and experientially from the eldest brother’s perspective. I believe that this is the truest perspective from which to hear the story and the perspective from which Jesus’ audience would have heard it.  Yet, most of us identify with the younger brother.

          Let’s hear this story this morning from the perspective of the eldest son—the eldest son of a wealthy rancher in North Eastern New Mexico who lives on his father’s ranch somewhere between Springer and Clayton.

Let me tell you the truth about this little twerp of a brother of mine.  You see, the twerp was my father’s favorite.  Don’t care what the old man may say it’s the truth.  Father was blind when it came to this kid’s laziness and irresponsibility.  The twerp rarely helped with the chores and when he did, he broke something or messed things up. This kid got away with murder.  He didn’t get half the whippings, scolding, and “let me tell you something young man” lectures that I did.

          Therefore, when he came to the old man and asked for his inheritance upfront so he could go out into the world and seek his fortune, find himself as it were, I couldn’t believe it.  What’s more, the old man gave into him. Boy was I ripped.  Had I wanted to do something like that the old man would still be chewing the scar tissue on my backside and lecturing me about responsibility, the family business, the family name, and all that stuff.   However, later I thought, this could be a good deal. With the kid out of the way dad would notice me, appreciate me, and what I do for him, the business, and the family.

          Came the day that the kid took off—arrogant, smug little snot—I pretended to be sad but in my heart, I was glad to see him go.   He wouldn’t be missed because he never did anything but cause trouble and foul up. 

          About six months after the kid had gone; some friends of mine told me they had seen the kid in Albuquerque when they had gone down to a stock show at the fair grounds.   He had girls and bunch of his near-do-well buddies hanging onto him and trailing behind him.  He was drinking, chasing wild, wild women, gambling, and cavorting around like the devil’s own child.

          Let me tell you, we weren’t raised to do things like that.  Nevertheless, you never know about some people, especially once they get away from home and fall under the influences of city-folk.

          Well, finally, the little jerk ran out of money and then he ran out of girl friends, and fair-weather friends.  He was on the skids.

          Because he had been such a goof-off and wastrel, he didn’t have any real skills so the only work he could get was menial jobs at minimum wage.  Another friend of mine told me he actual saw the kid working for a guy who raised pigs.  He lived in an old shed that had a cot in it and worked with pigs.

          Can you imagine that, a rancher’s son working on a stinking pig farm—perversion heaped upon perversion, yuck!

          However, the corker to this whole story was one day when I came in from a long, hot, cattle round-up and heard the music and a loud party going on in the main house.  One of the hired hands told me that the twerp had come home with some cock-and-bull story about how sorry he was and how wrong he had been and had begged the old man to take him back as a hired hand.  Yeah, sure, the kid really knew how to turn on the con.   I could just hear him, “Gee, dad you were right about sin and all that wicked living stuff,” and the old man ate it up.  Moreover, let me be a hired hand was the best con routine of all.  He just charmed the boots off the old man.  I doubt if he meant any of it or whether he still does.

          I mean the old man saw him coming up the drive from the blacktop road and ran out to meet him, like some star struck old fool, hugged the twerp, kissed him with all that pig stink and contamination on him.   How undignified for the biggest rancher in the state to act like that.  However, when it comes to the kid the old man looses all sense of propriety and dignity.

          Therefore, I made up my mind I was going to confront him dad. I had had it.  I was angry and hurt.  The old man would have hit the ceiling if I had wanted to kill a market-ready calf for a barbeque for my friends. Much less, kill and barbeque the fatted calf that was destined for the annual, Easter church barbeque.

          The kid shows up all raggedy and smelly and the old man has him bathed, puts new duds on him, a new pair of $1500 Tony Lama boots, a new $500 Stetson hat, a new ring with the family brand on it.  The kid lost his other family signet ring along with his distinctiveness as dad’s son while shooting dice in Belen.  The old man just welcomed him back as though nothing had happened.

          So, I went to the big house, stood around outside seething until the old man came outside to see me.  I said dad, “What’s the deal here?” 

Dad threw his arms around my shoulder and said, “Come on in boy and join the party, your baby brother’s come home.” 

Yeah, there he was grinning like a cow eating briars.  “Well, dad thanks a lot for sending word to me that you were having a party and I should come in. While I’ve been out working my backside off you throw a party for this little twerp and just happen to forget to invite me.  The kid squanders a quarter of a million dollars while I am working and being responsible and you give him a party.  Dad, remember, I was the one out in the hot sun and dust branding cattle; I was the one that spent days out riding and repairing fences; I got up and went out in the wet and cold to rescue stranded cows and tend to calving cows. Dad, your joy and elation over the twerp’s return is disrespectful to me and it isn’t fair to me.”

          The old man backed up a bit, looked me square in the eye, and said, “Look son, I love you, and I always knew you were here and I could count on you. If it seems I took you for granted well I’m sorry but I thought we were of the same mind and heart.  Son, as the eldest, when I am gone all this will be yours according to our traditions and your merit.  Moreover, if I had tried to stop your brother from leaving and doing what he did he would have resented the ranch and me all of his life.  As it is he has seen the error of his ways and choose to come home for what I believe were the right reasons and in the right spirit.  Now, if I act according to your sense of justice and injured pride I may alienate and loose him again.  If I don’t act according to your sense of justice and hurt, I may loose your respect to your wounded pride.   Therefore, I’m caught between a rock and a hard place in this matter.  What is it to be son—appease the sense of justice for my good and righteous son or mercy for the son who was lost and is now found?  You tell me how a father is to choose.”

          I’ll wager that some of us are glad that the Old Man threw his dignity and sense of justice to the wind, forsook all vestiges of propriety, power, and took on the stink and contamination of this world in an act of love and mercy on Calvary for rebellious little twerps like you and me?

There are also many of us who are glad that we didn’t stray from the ranch, kept faith, and practice as the righteous children of God.  As righteous children, we have never known the shame, disgrace, and degradation of what we might call major sin.

          Yes, God’s love and mercy are unfair, unjust, not doubt about it; nothing we can do about that.  However, remember many of us have gone astray at times and found ourselves in our respective pigsties at one time or another.  I ask you weren’t God’s grace, compassion, and mercy toward us when we turned around and came home a joy and a big slice of heaven.

Furthermore, to those who never stayed, kept the faith, lived righteous lives, isn’t it wonderful to live in the very heart and mind of God?  What a blessing, what a blessing.

A widely told but unverifiable story told about Robert Robinson, a Methodist Minister and author of the hymn "Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing," was that at some point in his life he lost his sense of God’s presence and he strayed from his Christian life. As a result, he became deeply troubled in spirit. Hoping to relieve his mind, he decided to travel. In the course of his travels, he had an occasion while traveling on a stagecoach to talk to a young woman about spiritual matters.  The young woman asked Robinson what he thought of a hymn she had just been reading. To his astonishment, he found it to be none other than his own composition. He tried to evade her question, but she continued to press him for a response. He finally responded, "Madam, I am the poor unhappy man who wrote that hymn many years ago, and I would give a thousand worlds, if I had them, to enjoy the feelings I had then."  Although greatly surprised, she reassured him that the "streams of mercy" mentioned in his song still flowed. As the story goes, Mr. Robinson was deeply touched. Turning his "wandering heart" to the Lord, he was restored to full fellowship.

          Let me share with you my friends even as the older brother the last thing in this world I want is God’s justice. What I need, what we all need, is God’s mercy in Jesus Christ.

          However, there still lingers a question in my mind about the story of the Prodigal Son.  Did the twerp really mean it, or was he just broke and down on his luck?  As Paul Harvey says, “That’s the rest of the story.”