From the Daily Lectionary for Thursday in the Twenty-Third Week after Pentecost
Luke 15:1-2, 11-32
Now all the tax-collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”
Then Jesus said, “There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’ So he divided his property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. But when he came to himself he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.’ So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate.
“Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.’ Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’ Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’”
If someone stops you on the street and asks, “Why do you at All Saints have a Black Lives Matter banner hanging on your front doors? Don’t all lives matter?” you can refer them to this parable in Luke’s Gospel. This parable only appears in Luke, but its theme is pervasive in all of the Gospels: that Jesus came to save the lost, those of our world who languish in indignity.
The imagery is so very rich. The younger son asks for his inheritance while his father is still alive. That just wasn’t done. He squanders his wealth, chooses a life of debauchery—Luke calls it “dissolute living”—and then ends up living with pigs, which, of course, to Jews, would be the epitome of squalor. The younger son reaches the end of his rope, and comes home, concocting in his mind how to persuade his father to receive him. The father sees him “far off” and runs to meet him. The son delivers his rehearsed apology, but the father isn’t listening; instead he makes preparations for a lavish feast for the son he thought he’d lost. This isn’t a story about repentance and forgiveness. This is a story about reclaiming the lost. Broken lives matter.
The elder son is outraged. He is the one who has played by the rules; obeyed the social norms. Why would his father make such a to-do over his morally bankrupt brother? He forgets in his anger and envy that he has a life of privilege. I imagine he is thinking, “What about my life? Doesn’t my life matter?” His father reminds him of his privilege: “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.” We never know how this family dysfunction is resolved, but the point is inescapable: In compassion God welcomes the broken and the lost, no questions asked. And the story implies that it is the lost who evoke God’s compassion. Pope John the 23rd at the Second Vatican Council proclaimed that “God has a preferential option for the poor.” In short, poor lives matter. The human community is not whole until all are whole, until all take their place at God’s bountiful table. There is no either-or here. In God’s economy this is a win-win. The community is God’s greater concern.
Jesus’ ministry prioritized the ones in his world whose lives mattered the least. Of course “all lives matter,” but all lives can’t matter until the ones left out are given their human dignity, until they are received as children of God.
Our Black brothers and sisters have suffered indignity far worse than a pig-sty over the past four hundred years. In compassion we should run to meet them, kill the fatted calf, and give them back their dignity. They are our brothers and sisters who have been dead and lost for so long. It is now time for them to be found… and to live.
A Prayer for Persons in Trouble or Bereavement (BCP p. 831)
O merciful God, who has taught us in your holy Word that you do not willingly afflict or grieve the children of humankind: Look with pity upon the sorrows of your servants for whom our prayers are offered. Remember them, O God, in mercy, nourish their souls with patience, comfort them with a sense of your goodness, lift up your countenance upon them, and give them peace; through Jesus Christ our Savior. Amen.
