A barbecue story. Luke 15.

I read somewhere that this chapter is probably the most familiar chapter of the New Testament. For me, it presents two challenges that are independent of the text itself. The first is pretty simple, what could I possibly write on the blog that would be original enough or useful enough to even bother with the writing? One possibility would be to provide some additional cultural context about shepherds or coins or Pharisees. Another would be to focus on some specific, new reaction of mine to the text. (No biggies there, although the image of being flung over Jesus' shoulders like a lost sheep had extra appeal as I read it last night.) I could also go find out what others have said about one of these parables and do a riff off of their thoughts. (William Barclay, for example, finds grounds for rejecting the Calvinist idea of "the total depravity of man" in this statement about the prodigal son in v.17, "but when he came to his senses", literally "came to himself.")

Instead of those possibilities, I'm going to focus on the other personal challenge in the parable of the loving father. Since it's personal, it'll at least be original. The challenge is this: where does one draw the line in looking at the details of this story? Is it enough to say, look at the context and realize that Jesus is telling this story to the Pharisees who can't understand why Jesus would eat with the tax collectors and sinners? That they are the older brother? Or do we need to dig down deeper into the story and draw more from the details, and if so, how far down do we dig? And do those details provide additional teaching or merely reinforce the main point -- God loves the lost and the big brothers in the family (Pharisees and teachers) ought to have the same attitude?

In the past, I've pretty much drawn the line at the main point. These are not real people, they're fictional. So if I have empathy for the father, it's only because I've had a somewhat similar experience of a child leaving our home and its values, or known someone who has had that experience. And while I think that approach is a valid one for any theology we might take from the parable, and it's always important to get the main point, I've changed in my thoughts about the details. Jesus told a rich, colorful, and memorable story here. All the details contribute to the main point. If there are those who talk as if this was an actual incident, perhaps that's not so awful as I once rigidly thought.

With that in mind, there are some details that add obvious force to the main point of the story. The fact that the son hits such low (and disgusting to the audience) circumstances -- to be tending swine -- is worth appreciating. That the father would be watching from afar is an indication of the depth of the father's love and concern, and a stark contrast to the elder son's attitude. That the father would clothe the son in a robe (honor), a ring (authority), and shoes (not barefoot like a servant), and celebrate, gives incredible hints at how deep the forgiveness of the father is, and how joyous it is to see the one who broke relationship, return. That the elder son is portrayed in such stark, grim, mean colors, provides the punch line to the audience. 'Pharisees, do you see what you've become, what you are? You consider your service to me a grinding duty, not a sharing of all the blessings I have. You have all the benefits of being in my presence, why wouldn't you be glad when others abandon their pride seek restoration of a once broken relationship?'

It's that last part of the lesson of Jesus that we can't miss when appreciating the details. Yes, we are the beneficiaries of the Father's gracious mercy. Yes, this is a picture of what Jesus' life and death mean to each one of us who broke relationship with the Father. But, we can't become the elder brother. We can't be resentful of the ones who have lived dissolutely and come late to repentance. We can't dissociate ourselves from those who need restored relationship in disgust or out of a sense of purity. We especially don't want attitudes of grim service to God, instead of joyous work in celebration of our own membership in His family.

Perhaps it's fitting that this reading comes so quickly after our barbecue on Sunday.

Let's find a fatted calf and have another barbecue.