We call this “The Parable of the Prodigal Son,” so that’s what we’re apt to hear—the depth of the son’s selfishness, the consequences of his waywardness, the character of his repentance, and perhaps the reasons for the older son’s grumpy protests. That’s all part of the story, but that’s not the heart of Jesus’ tale.
We live like people who expect to be around forever. Many have ceased to watch the eastern sky. Many no longer pray “Maranatha—come quickly, Lord Jesus.” Many would frankly be disappointed to see all of this come to an end. We’ve settled in—we’ve bought long term CD’s, built houses and lands, gotten comfortable. We’ve given our place of watchfulness over to conspiracy nuts and book peddlers. But make no mistake—Jesus said there will come a time when the King will appear in all His glory. There will be a reckoning. There will be judgment. The old will be rent apart…all things will become new, and just, and full of life.
We listen and almost hear, we sing and almost feel, we pray and almost believe...and then we come to this table...we take our place at this table, with our friends all around us. The host stands before us and speaks words of comfort and peace to our troubled minds. Then she takes the bread and blesses it, and breaks it, and gives it to us saying, “This is my body given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” Suddenly it dawns on us that the hands that hold the bread are pierced hands, the eyes that meet ours are filled with knowledge, and pain, and deep love. Suddenly, if only for a few moments, it all becomes clear, it all makes sense. The fog is lifted, the darkness is dispelled and we catch a glimpse of the glory of God. “Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked to us...and opened the Scriptures to us?”
Can I depend on God? Will He be there for me? When things go badly, can I depend on you? Will you be there for me? Will I be there for you? Will you be there to catch me when I fall? Will we be there to support you with our very lives when you face the valley of the shadow of death, when you face financial ruin, when you are tripped by sin, when you are hurt and abandoned?
This morning’s story exposes our blindness to the poor. How many other blind spots do you suppose we have? In how many other areas of our lives are we running roughshod over the gospel, thinking that we’re doing just fine, when in reality we’re totally lost. The pages of scripture are filled with people who should have seen, but didn’t. The disciples heard all Jesus’ words about loving your enemies and being kind to those who mistreat you. But when a certain village rejected Jesus’ message and told him to move on down the road, James and John were livid and said, “Hey Lord...Do you want us to call fire down from heaven on them?” Or our morning scripture a few weeks ago was about slavery. Paul wrote to slaves, “Now you be good and work hard for Master, especially if he’s a Christian.” Maybe even Paul didn’t get the entire picture all at once.
Since we started reading the Gospel of Luke six or eight weeks ago, we’ve been pummeled by Jesus’ insistence that we cannot serve God and wealth simultaneously. Could this story be another of Luke’s tough teachings on Kingdom economics? What if this story of the crooked manager is not simply an isolated teaching, but is part of Luke’s emphasis on the theology of money? Luke believed that Jesus Christ, the Messianic King came into this self-centered age, this unrighteous world rife with the love of money and the lust for things to inaugurate a new kingdom, a new way of life. He came to dislodge the mighty from their thrones, to send the rich away empty handed, and to fill the hungry with good things. The collision of two worlds, two worldviews is the crisis the gospel brings as this present age crashes to ruin and a new age is born.
It was humility and obedience that brought Jesus to the point of death. Our Gospel reading takes us to the Mount of Olives on the last night of Jesus’ life. Here Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane. The name Gethsemane translates “olive press.” Jesus often came to this beautiful grove to pray, and on that night it lived up to its name. Ancient olive presses were simple and effective machines: a basket full of ripe olives was placed on a stone catchment and a massive stone weight came down with crushing force, squeezing the oil out of the olives. On this last night of earthly life, Jesus came to the “Garden of crushing,” and laid his life under the weight of the world’s sin and the inexorable will of the Father.
Today, across town in a church building that looks like a refurbished Target store, a congregation sways in a darkened auditorium to the beat of drums and electric guitars. Four worship leaders sing earnestly into their microphones and the congregation sways in time to the music.
Today, across town in a church building that looks like a miniature Gothic cathedral, a congregation listens to the flourish of a pipe organ and searches the bulletin for the proper three part amen. Candles burn on the altar; a white robed minister prepares to preach.
Today, across town in a run down little room rented in a dilapidated strip mall, a group of worshipers shout and sing and dance down the aisles, hands lifted to heaven, jubilant expressions on their faces. The preacher mops his sweaty brow and bangs on the plywood pulpit with his fist, calling on the Holy Spirit to descend.
I then explained to Aidan that there were some children here that didn't have any toys and would not be receiving many, if any, toys for Christmas. He looked at me with a puzzled expression as I continued, "Do you think maybe we should share some toys that you don't play with anymore with children who don't have any?"
Aidan wasn’t so sure of that logic, but they gathered some toys anyway and off to the orphanage they went....
You can tell a lot about God by his actions in history. You can also learn about him by watching what he refuses to do. History as we know it could have been rolled up like a scroll in the 15th year of Tiberius. But that was not God's way. Instead, He came quietly; barely a ripple was visible as He broke into history. So total was God's commitment to allow us to maintain our human freedom that he hooded the Divine light that might otherwise have blasted through this world like a laser beam-- He took on the disguise of a man, the form of a helpless baby boy...alone he stepped into the desert of human existence.
