More than a father - Lent 4 Mothering Sunday
Luke 15: 11 - 32
“As truly as God is our father, so truly is he our mother.”
Words from a radical feminist? Not really! Words from a trendy liberal? Not quite!
No these are words from the 14th century anchoress Julian of Norwich, probably the greatest theological thinker produced by the England of the Middle Ages.
These are words that might seem appropriate for Mothering Sunday. However, on first examination, the same cannot be said of the Parable of the Prodigal Son. After all the three central characters were all male with only the fatted calf possibly being female but there again the fatted calf ends up as the biggest loser in the story.
Sometimes, I think that we are over familiar with this story. We have tamed it. And now we see God as like a good father as a result. The trouble is that this parable is so much more radical than that.
Its background is that Jesus has offended the religious establishment by his socialising and partying with what they considered the wrong sort of people, the sort of people who were not exactly a good advert for Israel. In response, Jesus tells a series of three parables. Of these, the Parable of the Prodigal Son has become the best known.
The story begins with an impertinent request. You see, there is a wealthy landowner who has two sons. The younger of them approaches him with a request - a request to inherit his share of the inheritance now. To us, this might seem a little insensitive but in the Middle eastern culture of that day, it was positively outrageous. In effect the message it gave was, “Dad, I am eager for you to die.” In response, a traditional father would be expected to strike the son across the face and to drive him from the house.
But this father is no traditional patriarch. Far from it! So he gives this son the freedom to own and to sell his portion. In effect, he allows the son the freedom to do what would not normally happen until after the father’s death.
And the son does not hesitate. The sale is done in days. This might imply a need to hurry for once the neighbouring villagers found out about his conduct, he would be a pariah. So he cannot wait. He has to hurry for shocked neighbours would surely turn him into an outcast.
Gone from home, he takes little time in wasting the inheritance. How he does so, we are not told and certainly the older brother’s insinuations must be treated with great suspicion. But the result is destitution and desperation. Now he needs to get his life back into order again. But how?
Well a real problem is that at that time, according to the Jerusalem Talmud, Jews had a way of dealing with any Jewish boy who lost the family inheritance to gentiles. It was called the “qetsatsah ceremony.” In this ceremony a jar filled with burned nuts and burned corn would be brought before the guilty person. It would be smashed and the community would proclaim that the guilty person was cut off from his community. The offender would henceforth be what we would describe as “being sent to Coventry.”
And this would be the just outcome in this story. The younger son has lost the family inheritance to gentiles, pig keepers. So now he is in big trouble. He has no future where he is but if he goes home he faces the prospect of the “qetsatsah ceremony.” The only way out is to make some money and so he swallows his pride and gets a job looking after pigs. But it doesn’t solve the problem. He might be fed but he isn’t paid. And those who hear Jesus know all too well what this means. Yes the “qetsatsah ceremony” is getting nearer should he return home.
But now he is so desperate that he is prepared to take a big gamble. He will return in the hope not of resumed sonship but of employment training so that he might earn his way. Who knows? One day he might be able to pay of what he has lost.
And so he begins his journey back to the home that he had so despised. Now let’s not pretend for a moment that this young man is remorseful. His return is all about self interest and it certainly is not about thoughts for his father. But still he has to steel himself for his return. After all, normally one who had been away would be expected to return with gifts but all that this young man has to bring back is his own record of failure. And those he might meet on his way back, may well be of the opinion that failure is all he deserves for his disgraceful conduct.
But let’s move on to the Father. He’s been looking out as if he always knew that his son would fail. He knows that his son will receive many a bad reception for having left in such an arrogant manner. And he wants to save his son from the indignity of the “qetsatsah ceremony.” So he looks. And when he sees the son, far away, he runs. But oh dear! To run in that culture is seen as unmanly. His ankles will be exposed. But as if that is not enough when he sees his son, he embraces him and showers him with kisses. Why on earth couldn’t he leave such antics to a mother? Why couldn’t he patiently wait as a patriarchal man of honour should do?
And you know, the unmanly behaviour is not finished yet. Having received the wretched younger son in peace, he calls a banquet. But now the problem is the older son. This son refuses to take his proper place at the banquet. And once more the father behaves in an unmanly manner. Rather than leave the process of placating the older son to a mother as would be the normal course of action, he allows himself to be humiliated by having to leave the banquet in order to reason with the son. And now, a new challenge confronts the father for this son is not to be reasoned with but chooses to launch a full frontal attack on both the younger son and the father. Surely now, the father will act like a man and order the older son to be thrashed but No. The father just goes on reasoning in the manner of love.
So what we have here is a most unusual father. It is not that he acts as a good father as we are often told. The truth is that he breaks all the rules and conventions of fatherhood. And in so doing reveals something of God. Henry Nouwen, reflecting on the father observes;
“This is the portrayal of God whose goodness, love,, forgiveness, care, joy and compassion have no limits at all. Jesus presents God’s generosity by using all the imagery his culture provides, while constantly transforming it.”
I wonder if at times, we do not grievously misrepresent God. We portray God in a patriarchal manner and as a result the Church has down through the centuries colluded in crimes against women. We have to often portrayed God as a stern forbidding judge who rules through might and power and some would say abuse. Yet how far such perceptions are from this parable.
God is revealed to us as Spirit and so is neither male or female. In this parable, we see a re emphasis of an Old Testament tradition in which God is called father and yet is partially described in female terms. In this parable, God is seen with the compassion of a mother. But why be surprised? After all if we journey back to Genesis, we find that male and female alike, are made in the image of God.
And now to Rembrandt’s great painting, “The Return of the Prodigal Son” which is in front of you. There you see the Prodigal Son on his knees before his father. Look carefully and see the contrast in the father’s hands. The left hand is well muscled and seem to have a firm grip on the young man. But look to the right hand. Here, there is less evidence of muscle. There is an elegance and gentleness about the fingers and they seem to stroke rather than grip. Listen for a moment to Henry Nouwen’s writing about this;
“As soon as I recognised the difference between the two hands of the father, a new world of meaning opened up for me. The Father is not simply a great patriarch. He is mother as well as father. He touches the son with a masculine hand and a feminine hand. He holds and she caresses. He confirms and she consoles. He is, indeed, God in whom both manhood and womanhood, fatherhood and motherhood, are fully present. That gentle and caressing right hand echoes for me the words of the prophet Isaiah: “Can a woman forget her baby at the breast, feel no pity for the child she has borne? Even if these were to forget, I shall not forget you. Look, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.”
So today, let’s move on from patriarchal domination or even a clash of genders. Let us on the Mothering Sunday, cherish the good news of the wonderful parenthood of God.
This sermon was preached at Alverdiscott on Sunday March 18th 2007. It owes much to writing of Kenneth Bailey and Henry Nouwen on this parable.
“As truly as God is our father, so truly is he our mother.”
Words from a radical feminist? Not really! Words from a trendy liberal? Not quite!
No these are words from the 14th century anchoress Julian of Norwich, probably the greatest theological thinker produced by the England of the Middle Ages.
These are words that might seem appropriate for Mothering Sunday. However, on first examination, the same cannot be said of the Parable of the Prodigal Son. After all the three central characters were all male with only the fatted calf possibly being female but there again the fatted calf ends up as the biggest loser in the story.
Sometimes, I think that we are over familiar with this story. We have tamed it. And now we see God as like a good father as a result. The trouble is that this parable is so much more radical than that.
Its background is that Jesus has offended the religious establishment by his socialising and partying with what they considered the wrong sort of people, the sort of people who were not exactly a good advert for Israel. In response, Jesus tells a series of three parables. Of these, the Parable of the Prodigal Son has become the best known.
The story begins with an impertinent request. You see, there is a wealthy landowner who has two sons. The younger of them approaches him with a request - a request to inherit his share of the inheritance now. To us, this might seem a little insensitive but in the Middle eastern culture of that day, it was positively outrageous. In effect the message it gave was, “Dad, I am eager for you to die.” In response, a traditional father would be expected to strike the son across the face and to drive him from the house.
But this father is no traditional patriarch. Far from it! So he gives this son the freedom to own and to sell his portion. In effect, he allows the son the freedom to do what would not normally happen until after the father’s death.
And the son does not hesitate. The sale is done in days. This might imply a need to hurry for once the neighbouring villagers found out about his conduct, he would be a pariah. So he cannot wait. He has to hurry for shocked neighbours would surely turn him into an outcast.
Gone from home, he takes little time in wasting the inheritance. How he does so, we are not told and certainly the older brother’s insinuations must be treated with great suspicion. But the result is destitution and desperation. Now he needs to get his life back into order again. But how?
Well a real problem is that at that time, according to the Jerusalem Talmud, Jews had a way of dealing with any Jewish boy who lost the family inheritance to gentiles. It was called the “qetsatsah ceremony.” In this ceremony a jar filled with burned nuts and burned corn would be brought before the guilty person. It would be smashed and the community would proclaim that the guilty person was cut off from his community. The offender would henceforth be what we would describe as “being sent to Coventry.”
And this would be the just outcome in this story. The younger son has lost the family inheritance to gentiles, pig keepers. So now he is in big trouble. He has no future where he is but if he goes home he faces the prospect of the “qetsatsah ceremony.” The only way out is to make some money and so he swallows his pride and gets a job looking after pigs. But it doesn’t solve the problem. He might be fed but he isn’t paid. And those who hear Jesus know all too well what this means. Yes the “qetsatsah ceremony” is getting nearer should he return home.
But now he is so desperate that he is prepared to take a big gamble. He will return in the hope not of resumed sonship but of employment training so that he might earn his way. Who knows? One day he might be able to pay of what he has lost.
And so he begins his journey back to the home that he had so despised. Now let’s not pretend for a moment that this young man is remorseful. His return is all about self interest and it certainly is not about thoughts for his father. But still he has to steel himself for his return. After all, normally one who had been away would be expected to return with gifts but all that this young man has to bring back is his own record of failure. And those he might meet on his way back, may well be of the opinion that failure is all he deserves for his disgraceful conduct.
But let’s move on to the Father. He’s been looking out as if he always knew that his son would fail. He knows that his son will receive many a bad reception for having left in such an arrogant manner. And he wants to save his son from the indignity of the “qetsatsah ceremony.” So he looks. And when he sees the son, far away, he runs. But oh dear! To run in that culture is seen as unmanly. His ankles will be exposed. But as if that is not enough when he sees his son, he embraces him and showers him with kisses. Why on earth couldn’t he leave such antics to a mother? Why couldn’t he patiently wait as a patriarchal man of honour should do?
And you know, the unmanly behaviour is not finished yet. Having received the wretched younger son in peace, he calls a banquet. But now the problem is the older son. This son refuses to take his proper place at the banquet. And once more the father behaves in an unmanly manner. Rather than leave the process of placating the older son to a mother as would be the normal course of action, he allows himself to be humiliated by having to leave the banquet in order to reason with the son. And now, a new challenge confronts the father for this son is not to be reasoned with but chooses to launch a full frontal attack on both the younger son and the father. Surely now, the father will act like a man and order the older son to be thrashed but No. The father just goes on reasoning in the manner of love.
So what we have here is a most unusual father. It is not that he acts as a good father as we are often told. The truth is that he breaks all the rules and conventions of fatherhood. And in so doing reveals something of God. Henry Nouwen, reflecting on the father observes;
“This is the portrayal of God whose goodness, love,, forgiveness, care, joy and compassion have no limits at all. Jesus presents God’s generosity by using all the imagery his culture provides, while constantly transforming it.”
I wonder if at times, we do not grievously misrepresent God. We portray God in a patriarchal manner and as a result the Church has down through the centuries colluded in crimes against women. We have to often portrayed God as a stern forbidding judge who rules through might and power and some would say abuse. Yet how far such perceptions are from this parable.
God is revealed to us as Spirit and so is neither male or female. In this parable, we see a re emphasis of an Old Testament tradition in which God is called father and yet is partially described in female terms. In this parable, God is seen with the compassion of a mother. But why be surprised? After all if we journey back to Genesis, we find that male and female alike, are made in the image of God.
And now to Rembrandt’s great painting, “The Return of the Prodigal Son” which is in front of you. There you see the Prodigal Son on his knees before his father. Look carefully and see the contrast in the father’s hands. The left hand is well muscled and seem to have a firm grip on the young man. But look to the right hand. Here, there is less evidence of muscle. There is an elegance and gentleness about the fingers and they seem to stroke rather than grip. Listen for a moment to Henry Nouwen’s writing about this;
“As soon as I recognised the difference between the two hands of the father, a new world of meaning opened up for me. The Father is not simply a great patriarch. He is mother as well as father. He touches the son with a masculine hand and a feminine hand. He holds and she caresses. He confirms and she consoles. He is, indeed, God in whom both manhood and womanhood, fatherhood and motherhood, are fully present. That gentle and caressing right hand echoes for me the words of the prophet Isaiah: “Can a woman forget her baby at the breast, feel no pity for the child she has borne? Even if these were to forget, I shall not forget you. Look, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.”
So today, let’s move on from patriarchal domination or even a clash of genders. Let us on the Mothering Sunday, cherish the good news of the wonderful parenthood of God.
This sermon was preached at Alverdiscott on Sunday March 18th 2007. It owes much to writing of Kenneth Bailey and Henry Nouwen on this parable.
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