There are Things that Make Me Dad

Hebrew Scriptures: Proverbs 6: 20-22

Christian Witness: Romans 8: 14-17

Gospel Lesson: Luke 15: 11-32



The prodigal son; The loving father; A man and his two sons. The prodigal and his brother. Whatever you may call it, it is such a familiar story and perhaps it is Jesus’ most famous parable. One that we likely know by heart, that we acted out on Sunday School felt boards as children, the theme of which we’ve seen remade into movies and books, poetry and music.

In commentaries and other religious literature there is no shortage of laud for this parable – often cited as Jesus’ best parable, an interpreters dream with well-developed characters, resolved and unresolved tension. Others have said it is Jesus’ truest presentation of the Gospel that if compared to a lake would be one of the clearest spots where we can see all the way to the bottom. Even others suggest that it is one of the world’s supreme masterpieces of story telling. But, ultimately, nearly every commentary notes that, “The main point of the parable – that God gladly receives the repentant sinner – must not be obscured.”

But is this the main point of the parable? On closer examination, my inclination is that the point is really not about the plight of the repentant sinner but rather about the nature and character of God – about how God, in relationship with us, truly becomes our Father, our Mother, our Parent.

One of the interesting things that comes with being a parent is being introduced to the wonderful world of Children’s Music. Some of it is terrible, some familiar, and on rare occasions some of it is wonderful. Last Christmas Anderson received a Children’s CD by the Barenaked Ladies. They are one of my favorite bands, and they did not disappoint with their kids entertainment. One of the best songs on the cd is this chorus called, “Things.” The lyrics go like this:

There are things that make me mad,
But you are not one of them.

There are things that make me sad,
But you are not one of them.

There are things that make me Dad,
You seem to be all of them.

Allow these lyrics to play in your mind as we think about this parable more closely.

There are things that make me mad

Before Anderson was born I knew that I loved kids I spent my summers working in childcare and rarely did a Friday night pass that I didn’t have a babysitting job. But the saying is true that you never know what it is like to be a parent until you are a parent. I particularly remember one pre-Anderson Saturday afternoon when I was working retail and there was this mother standing in line holding her baby. She kept kissing her baby over and over and over. It had been a long day, I was rushing to check out my customers and I was so annoyed by her incessant kissing. I remember thinking, “Enough already, you love your baby, we get it, he gets it, everyone gets it.” At that point I had never loved anything so blissfully much that even in a crowd of folks I couldn’t think about anything else besides the object of my affection.

Just a few short years later Matt and I welcomed Anderson into our family and my world changed. Love as I had never known it flooded my heart. Now, please don’t mishear me, I realize that some folks cannot or choose not to have children, and certainly that does not diminish their capacity for love and nurturing commitment to other things in their lives. But for me, my experience at becoming a Mother absolutely changed everything – the way that I related to myself, my spouse, my parents, and especially God. More importantly the way that I understood God’s relationship to me, radically changed.

In April of 2007, I remember sitting in Sunday School at our church in North Carolina and we were talking about the recent massacre at Virginia Tech. Many of us were stunned at the horrific details, some were angry that lack of security, or lack of attention, allowed such an event to happen. Others were overwhelmed with grief for the families who lost children that day – perhaps remembering their own tragic losses. But the thought that hit me, as I held my gently sleeping baby, was that at some point, some mother or father, grandmother or grandfather, snuggled a tiny little baby, just like mine, that grew up to be a mass murderer. Many years ago that violent person was pure and innocent, filled with potential and promise. I wondered out loud to our class, “Despite the awful, murderous actions that occurred at Virginia Tech, does God as our Parent, remember this man as the pure and innocent child that he once was. Can God see through the tragedy that we make in our own lives, and the lives of others, to love us still?”

Our Gospel Lesson for today seems to affirm that God can, indeed that God does, that this is exactly what God is all about. Some commentaries suggest that if the younger of the sons had gone off and committed more heinous crimes such as murder or rape – that the Father would not have so quickly welcomed him home and lavished him with the love typically reserved for the pure, innocent and faithful. But the reality is, in demanding his inheritance before his Father has died the youngest son basically says to the Father, “I wish you were dead. Your money and your land are worth more to me than you are.” The rejection of his family– truly wishing his father dead – is far worse than any transgression committed in the distant country.

If you watch the news you’re well aware that the headlines are full of people making poor decisions, embarrassing their families, ruining their names, destroying their lives. Recently, right here in our own community, a young man took the life of his lover in a very public, very shocking murder. Of all the news coverage, the one image that plays over and over in my mind is of this young man’s mother. Her son had murdered another human. His life as he had known it was likely over, her hopes and dreams for him were shattered, his innocence and potential wasted by a moment of irrational rage. And yet as the camera followed her out of the courthouse, reporters shouting questions at her, this mother screamed at the camera over and over, “I love my son. I love my son! I LOVE MY SON!”

Even with broken hearts, even when the anger and shame of the circumstances should dictate otherwise, both this local mother and the father in Jesus’ parable loved their children fiercely.

There are things that make me mad, but you are not one of them.

There are things that make me sad

We mustn’t forget that the youngest son isn’t the only “sinner” in Jesus’ parable. We can safely assume that after the younger son skipped town with his inheritance that the older son got his portion of Dad’s money too. Unlike the younger son who wantonly spends every last cent, we are led to assume that the eldest brother tucks his portion away and continues to toil the land and remain faithful to the Father. But the end of Jesus’ parable opens our eyes to the truth.

The elder son is as estranged, or by some commentators assessment even more estranged from his father, than the younger son. The older son is so disengaged from his family that he flies into a bitter rage disowning his brother and his father, “For all these years I have been working like a slave for you…but when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you kill the fatted calf for him?!” I’ve been working like your slave – you’re not my father, you’re my master. This son of yours – he’s not my brother.

Just when the Father thought that his world had been put back together, he experiences another rejection by another beloved son. The naivety, arrogance, and selfishness of the younger son is quickly replaced by the bitterness, callousness, and self-pity of the elder.

If you listen to NPRs story corps you may have heard the interview this past week between an adoptive single father and his son. At the time of his adoption the child was seven and had spent the majority of his life in foster care. He had been abused and suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. Even after the adoption was finalized, the boy lived in fear of being rejected. One day when his teachers called to report that he had not been paying attention in school the child panicked and ripped all the phones out of the walls, for fear that if his father heard bad things about him, he might send him back. Another time when the father attempted to discipline the son by taking away his TV privileges, the son retorted, “Wait until I tell the judge about this.” The father looked at his son with compassion and said, “Son, you are adopted. It is final. There are no more judges in your life.”

For the elder son in the parable, the feeling of not belonging is overwhelming. The Father in Jesus’ story could have easily become angry. He could have shouted, “Everything I have is yours, you arrogant, bitter ingrate. You are no better than your brother.” He could have become sad, “I have given you everything I have, why are you rejecting me even as your bother did?” But instead, he pleads with the son, filled with compassion, “Son, you have always been with me, everything I have is yours. Come let us celebrate your brother’s return from the dead.” “Come return from the dead yourself, my child.”

Raising a child who has been abused, or who walks in the shadow of rejection and disappointment, is certainly cause for a parent to be heartbroken to say the least. But both the father in the story corps interview and the father in Jesus’ parable have more than enough reason to affirm, “There are things that make me sad, but you are not one of them.”

There are things that make me Dad

So, back to the initial suggestion from our commentary friends that the point of this parable is that God gladly receives the repentant sinner. If we look at the younger son, it certainly seems that he is repentant. Indeed the Gospel Lesson gives us a sneak peek at him practicing his repentance speech. How many speeches have we rehearsed just like this?

I’m sorry I am late, but the dog…;

I really had hoped to be able to help you, but the babysitter…;

I am so sorry that I hurt your feelings, I never meant to…;

Father I have sinned against heaven and before you, treat me like one of your hired hands…

What strikes me about his actual return home, however, is that the Father seemingly doesn’t hear, doesn’t care, or perhaps is oblivious to the son’s words. The Father has literally made a fool out of himself, running through the gates of the town to catch up his son in a ‘back from the dead’ embrace. Even as the son attempts to mumble out his repentance speech the father cuts him off calling for the best robes, slippers, and rings.

The son’s words are insignificant. There is nothing the young man can say, no excuse that needs to be made, no promises for better behavior, no begging for a job as a hired man. It doesn’t matter where he’s been, what he’s done, or how he justifies it. The father doesn’t care. The father is overwhelmed with the shear fact that his son has returned.

But what of the older son? Where’s his repentance speech? He berates rather than repents. He lashes out at the father, disrespecting him, belittling him. The elder son makes a heated case for what he deserves and why he deserves it. There is no begging for mercy, no humility, no admission of inappropriate behavior. And even still, how does the father respond to this his unrepentant elder son? He responds as lavishly as he did with his younger son. He pleads with his eldest, he reinforces that literally every single thing that he owns, actually belongs to the son. He states the fact that, “You are always with me.”

It is true that there is no sin too big that God can’t forgive, it is true that God loves us while we are still sinners, even before we are wise enough to repent, it is true that our arrogance and our pride often overshadow our acceptance of God’s lavish love….these are all good points to learn from this parable. But is the more shocking point, the more life altering point, the fact that God truly loves us regardless of our sinning or our repenting – unconditionally, unselfishly, lavishly, foolishly – as a parent in the truest, purest sense of the word loves a child?

The Father’s compassion in this story lead one commentator to note, “This is no ideal picture of an imaginary father, of such exceptional saintliness that he can stand for God himself. He is any father worth the name, as the hearers are expected to recognize, and this is how he would behave; and this is what God is like.”

As I said in the beginning, it is difficult for me to think about God as Father. Misuse of the concept of God as father has lead to patriarchal systems that oppress women, mask abuse, support injustice and manipulate God’s love. What is more, I recognize the difficulty with imagining God as Father, especially for persons whose fathers have been abusive, rejecting, and unloving. But today, on Father’s day, it is important that we attempt to look a little deeper at what Jesus intended when he called God, Father.

God as our Parent is like the Father in our Gospel Lesson today – a fool for the love of his children. As Jurgen Moltmann would say, may we rejoice in the unconditional love of our Motherly Father, our Fatherly Mother this day, and every day to come.

There are things that make me Dad. You seem to be all of them. Amen.