A ROBE, A RING, AND SHOES; Part 1 Luke 15: 11-24 Father, I have sinned The story of the Prodigal Son is well known that it has become of part of our own folklore. It is not at all unusual to hear someone refer to one of their own children as being our prodigal child. You all know the story as well as I do. A son takes his inheritance and, for whatever reason, loses it all. So down, sorrowful, and penitent, he returns home expecting to be punished, but instead, he discovers that he is still loved and accepted every bit as much as he ever was. It is a classic story of good triumphing over evil; everyone living happily ever after; just the way things are supposed to be in this world. What is not said, and what many of us fail to understand unless we have been there ourselves, is that there is a price to be paid for being forgiven wearing the robe, the ring, and the shoes does not come cheap, and the price can actually be quite high. Why do people leave home? While it is true that people often leave to escape a situation which has become intolerable, or an abuse which is threatening; it is just as true that we leave to escape the kind of love which bestows such gifts as robes, rings, and shoes. Most do not know the story of the ring I wear. This ring was my father s black star sapphire. When reflecting the sun, there is visible a 6-point star in it. Dad always spoke of the strength and guidance which he received this ring. When life was coming at him in tougher times, he would look at the ring and know the presence and the strength of God. It served him as a 1
constant stay on the right path of life. On my Ordination day, my father gave me a star sapphire to wear. The only reason I do not wear it now is because it will not fit over my knuckles. But with that ring also came the unspoken expectations which he had for me along with his hopes and dreams. So to look upon this ring now, 28 years after his death, is to still know the weight of his love upon me. Knowing what he expected, and the ways which I come up short. The love he bore, and the disappointment I gave. The elements he craved, which I could not provide. Make no mistake, love can bring with it a great weight. One day these two rings will go to my sons, and I am already aware of the burden which it places upon one of them. Why else do people leave home? I ll share with you one more story from my own life. I grew up in a nice house located in a beautiful subdivision. It was you stereotypical 2 cars in the garage, a dog in the back yard, and a basketball goal in the driveway. But the house belonged to my parents, as did everything in the house, including in my room. So my room was always being invaded by my mother who considered anything in there fair for her to investigate. Therefore, my treasures, my secrets, could not be kept at home and they were not. I had to find somewhere which was mine mine only. Is it really any different now? Each of us needs someplace we can call our own. It may be an office, it may be a password protected corner of the computer, it may be secluded spot somewhere around town, but it is somewhere we must have to call our own. People also leave for economic reasons. Things were not very good in Palestine during the time that this parable was being told. Four million Israelites had already fled to other places; just as millions of Irish left their homeland to escape the potato famine during the 1800 s. 2
Then again, it is also true that younger sons received much less inheritance than did their older brothers. In some countries, just like daughters, younger sons receive nothing at all. But in the case of boy in our story, it is reasonable to assume that he did not leave because he was abused, or a bad person, or for economic reasons. Rather he left out of a desire to be independent. Independence, the longing to be free free from expectations; free from established ways; free from oversight and scrutiny. Actually, the reasons behind his leaving have no real bearing on the point of the story. The bottom line remains unchanged: the younger son left for a far country, and once there, two things happened to him. The first was his extravagant lifestyle. That was his responsibility. He made those decisions and he had control over them. The second thing which happened was a famine, and that was something over which he had no control and for which he was not responsible. Either one alone, he probably could have withstood, but the combination of the two did him in. So close to starving he decided to go home. Most of us do, at some time, go home again and it usually is because we are starving. Many Americans plan trips to Europe, not because they were born in Germany, or England, or Sweden, or even because their parents were; but because a long time ago these countries were home. Years ago our son Clay, had a swim meet in my old home town. One afternoon, following his event, I took him around to show him the houses I grew up in, the schools I attended, the places I used to hang out. I am sure that he really did not care, and it was not important to him truth be known, he probably does not even remember it much. But I did it because it was important to me. It was important to me to visit those places and to share 3
them with him. It was important to me to tell him some of the stories from long ago. There are many ways of starving, and there are many ways of going home. Actually, there is a large measure of integrity in the way the prodigal framed the speech he was going to give to his father. Most people today would probably say something like: I was doing fine until the famine came. In other words, we will attempt to blame that which we have no control over. But this child chose the harder path: Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son. He had planned to say more, Treat me as one of your hired servants. But he was not given the chance to complete his confession. Now the father did the best that he could and the worst. At first sight of the child while still a ways off, out of total compassion, he ran down the road and embraced the child. He did not stand and wait so that the boy would see him and suffer the last quarter of a mile fearing his fate to come. The answer was given in the seeing. There was no stern silence as the boy stammered out the words of his penitence. The penitence was offered in the embrace already given, which was the father s yes in response to a question not yet asked. There was no discussion about it all. No sorting out what the child did wrong and what he was responsible for. There was only the robe, the ring, and the shoes; the sound of music, and the feast of celebration. It was, without doubt, the best the father could do. It was magnificent, and it served as an example by Jesus to show the way which the Heavenly Father welcomes each of us home. The father did good and he did bad; he did the best; and he did the worst. Why the worst? Because it left no room for the child s selfhood and independence. What could the son possible offer in return for this one sided reconciliation? Even his request to be taken back came after the father s answer 4
had already been given. He could not even pay for his transgression by receiving the blows of his father s condemnation. He was not allowed to work out his path back into the family. Then to make matter worse, to add insult to injury, instead of paying for his transgression, he received gifts of a robe, a ring, and shoes. He was left without of shred of dignity and self-justification. This is the definitive example of love, the church has always taught. But for those people who choose, for dignity s sake, to pay their own way through life, it could prove to be the worst example because the gifts now give rise to a new bondage. We must be honest at this point and admit that scripture does not tell us about the feelings or the thoughts which the prodigal had in response to being received home in this way. The faith has taught us that to be loved this completely by God means, inevitable, a total surrender of the self, and an end to independence. Though it is true that within this embrace of love there is no humiliation, there is still a calling up of totally humility. We are not, nor will we ever be, God s slaves, but it is still God s robe, and ring, and shoes which we wear. When we, like the prodigal, go home to God, are embraced by God, and receive his gifts, we become servants of God, depend upon him for the establishment and maintenance even the total meaning of our life. God alone becomes the source in which we live, and move, and have our being. Can God be trusted with our life? Can we place our life into his hands and say in all confidence and faith, Take my life. To you I surrender all. Countless of generations have answered the question with a firm yes. But in the end it is your faith, your trust, your life which really matters. Amen. 5