The Story of Love

 Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

Our son came out to us this week. He told us in halting words about something he has known about himself since junior high. They told us how they are created to be. When they finished there was a pause and I broke the silence with, "Duh, we've known this for a long time." We hugged and told them it made no difference, we love them as they are, as they are created to fully be. 

It made me think of today's scripture. I don't think we get how exceptional the father's reaction to the lost son was. We like to put ourselves as the son and God welcoming us, no matter what we've done. We have an image of us repenting though and coming into line with being right. This is not the story. This story is radical grace, no ands, ifs, or buts.

The son first essentially tells the father I wish you were dead. Now imagine your son telling you this. I want my inheritance. If you had died when you should've I would've already had my money. Instead of being appalled and outraged the father gives him the cash. Now this doesn't make sense to any audience. A good beating and making the son work with the servants might give the son a different perspective. This is not the story though.

Next the son goes and parties hard. Spending all this money on drugs, lavish lifestyle, having fun, and essential not saving any for a rainy day. So what happens is he ends up broke and in the gutter. In order to have a little cash he starts a job feeding the pigs. Yet he doesn't have money for food and considers eating what they eat, then an idea comes. Even dads servants eat better than this. I'll go home. Now any good Jewish boy would not come right home from feeding the pigs. There would be cleansing rituals to do, money to make to pay for them. There is no way any good Jewish dad would ignore this. This isn't the story.

The dad sees his son coming. Maybe he's been waiting day after day, not to stand and say I told you so, not to say see you can't make it on your own, no. He's been waiting in anticipation of seeing a son who wished he were dead, who doesn't care about propriety or laws. He's been waiting to hug him and he runs, runs down the road this dad. This high class dad, one who has property, one who has stature in the synagogue, he runs to meet his son and hug him. Because he thought he might die. Because he thought he might loose him and none of the rest matters. This is the story.

Now dad decides to throw a banquet. A huge to do with bunches of people and lots of food. The elder son is jealous. Jealous of dads forgiveness, jealous of dads lavishness, jealous of dads grace and he pouts in the dark corner. He won't come out, he won't forgive his brother, he won't participate in the celebration. The dad comes over to see what's wrong and the son spouts his unwillingness to participate and accuses dad of playing favorites. Let's see if dad cools his heels now. He doesn't deserve this because he didn't respect you dad and I have. This is the story.

I wonder if this is our story today. Laws are being passed to punish children, actually the child's parents of abuse, when actually the law is the abuse. In the LGBTQIA community the Trevor project states in youth 10-24 years of age suicide is the second leading cause of death for children coming out. Now we are like the jealous son. Dad shouldn't love them, so we will be the gate keepers. Punish parents who love and help their young people instead of punish them. This leads to death in children. Who is really the abuser here? This is the story.

We need a different story. For all those who have come out and haven't received the wide open arms of love that should have surrounded you, we repent. For all those who are struggling now to find who they were created to be and we have harmed by silly laws, we repent. Because this story is a story of grace. No conditions, no laws, no limits, just wide open arms. We close them when we pout and say its not fair they get to come into the arms of love. It happens when we decide, when we are the judges in lots of different arenas of public life. This is not the story.

I'm learning grace for others is the hardest lesson I can learn. It is wider than I can see. Bigger than I know. Wider than I can reach. Deeper than I can go. Yet it is the story here today. It is the one which matters. Can we open our arms to receive it?