Welcome to the Ministry of Reconciliation!

It sounds like something out of Harry Potter, doesn’t it? Or at least something very British.

Apparently everything over in the U.K. is run by ministries which sounds so much more interesting than running things out of “departments.” They have all sorts of ministries over there like the Ministry of Transmogrification or maybe it’s Transportation - (you know, where you go to renew your license). They have a Ministry of Defense and a Ministry of the Dark Arts, or maybe its a Ministry in defense of the Dark Arts? Either way, it all sounds very magical and mysterious. So I like the idea of inviting you all into the “Ministry of Reconciliation.”

And it beats the working title for this sermon which was, for the better part of a week… “God Loves Everyone You Hate.”

Yeah, that had a bit of an edge to it. But what can I say, these are edgy times. To quote Kate Bowler, “Tension is high. Trust is low. The world is an absolute mess. And (yet) somehow, we are still called to love one another.”

Hence my invitation into this ministry of reconciliation, because let me tell you, not loving one another - and I mean really loving each other with our words and our actions - isn’t leading us anywhere good.

We’ve been not loving each other for quite some time now and not only is it wearing us down, fraying our social fabric, tearing our families and communities apart, polluting our discourse, excusing behavior and justifying rhetoric that is degrading, dehumanizing and dangerous, but it is distracting us from bigger issues that will harm all of us.

Every minute we spend fighting about our problems - problems like income inequality, climate change, and immigration - is a minute spent not solving them. And a lot of these problems have grown so large that it really is going to take all of us working together to solve them.

Not only that, think for a moment about who is benefitting from all of our distraction and division. Really think about it. Who is profiting while we tear into one another?

Is it not the very corporations whose tools and products have accelerated and amplified our fear and suspicion of one another? Tools and products we are all hopelessly addicted to because they designed them that way?

I don’t mean to sound like a conspiracy theorist, but all of the time and energy we are investing in consuming memes, tweets, podcasts, and programs that confirm our worst suspicions about one another profits no one more than the tech billionaires and media moguls in our country.

Many of whom have now leveraged their immense wealth into seats of power meant solely for our elected officials. Some of whom are actively participating in the dismantling of our government and our democracy, unraveling the very infrastructure and social safety net that we all depend on.

Regardless of who you voted for, none of us voted for them. And their efforts effect all of us on the right and on the left, but none more so then the ones Christ calls us to care for most, those who labor at the margins and suffer at the bottom.  So I think it’s high time we start finding our way back to one another, and you’re not necessarily going to like it, but I think maybe the Bible can help.

We have just heard one of the Jesus’ most beloved parables - the Parable of the Prodigal Son - which I find sounds like good news on the surface and then starts to sound like bad news the more you think about it. But, if you stick with the discomfort, comes back round to good news in the end. So hang in here with me, ok? Ok.

Everyone thinks they love this parable because, on some level, we all love the idea of a Father or a God we can run home to if we really screw up. We would all like to reserve some measure of grace for ourselves - a get out of jail free card, if you will:

the possibility of a do over if we ever really mess things up,

the guarantee of a second chance if we drop the ball,

the promise that forgiveness is ours for the asking.

But asking is the key, right?!? Admitting we were wrong is essential.

Because you see, we also want to live in a world where people are held accountable for their misdeeds, like, oh I don’t know maybe mistakenly adding a journalist to a top secret security thread!

We want to live in a world where actions have consequences and failure is owned rather than denied or rewarded; a world where people repent from their mistakes, learn, and do better. Right? You all with me? Good.

Or maybe bad, because that is not the truth at the heart of this parable… at all.

The parable of the prodigal son might look like a story about repentance at first glance but a close reading reveals that the younger son … doesn’t really regret his actions at all. He simply grows tired of the consequences. Knowing that his Father is unfailingly kind to everyone, even his servants, he figures he’ll take his chances, return home, and prey upon his father’s generosity once more.

Yes, he devises an apology, but notice that his father runs out to meet him before he even gets a word out of his mouth. The father calls for the fatted calf to be slaughtered and a party thrown in his honor, but it is not because his son has repented of his sinful ways. The kid barely gets half an apology out of his mouth before Dad starts snapping his fingers for robes and rings.

And it doesn’t matter anyway because his Dad isn’t listening. He’s not throwing the party because his son has seen the error of his ways. He’s throwing a party because his son has come home. Period. This father never stopped loving his boy even after all the stupid, selfish, sinful things he did. This father’s love for his wayward son is unconditional.

Just let that sit for a moment…because it’s supposed to make you uncomfortable.

And then the older brother, the son who has done everything right, comes in from the fields where he has been working all day to find a party being held in his dishonorable brother’s honor. He’s as surprised as anyone to find that not only is his no good, selfish, irresponsible brother home again, he’s been welcomed back into the fold completely and - big surprise! -is already enjoying the fruits of his older brother’s labor in the most extravagant way possible.

To quote Barbara Brown Taylor, “The wages of sin,” at least in this parable, “is a lavish party for the sinner.”

Not only that, but the good, hard working, responsible brother is just supposed to go along with this! Well, he’s not having it. He’s furious. He’s devastated.

After all the work he’s done, the loyalty he has shown, and the fun he has denied himself, he’s angry at the injustice of it all… not realizing that his father has always loved him too. Loved him not for his dedication and discipline, but simply because the older brother is his son as well. The father’s love for him is also unconditional.

To which some part of me says: “Not cool man. Not cool at all!”

Because some part of me wants conditions. And maybe some part of you does too?

I mean, without conditions, what’s to stop people from doing whatever the hell they want? Don’t we have the right to expect a certain level of behavior, discourse, or belief from people before we just go around loving them or eating with them, forgiving, listening to, or hanging out with them?

Though I admit there is another part of me that definitely wants to be loved unconditionally because I know that no matter how hard I try - and God help me, but I do try - I’m still going to screw up.

Which may be why Barbara Brown Taylor, in the sermon I referenced before, cautions us against reducing either brother to a simple stereotype or comparing ourselves or anyone else to one or the other. Instead, she invites us to consider that maybe we need both of these brothers in order to fully understand what the gospel is about.

Taylor observes that “the younger brother lives entirely by grace….The older…entirely by obedience.” The father loves them both but they have a hard time loving each other. “As long as they remain estranged,” she says, “neither of them can live whole lives.”

And neither can we. As long as we want grace but require obedience of ourselves and others, we are not whole either. You see the gospel is not just the good news that you are forgiven, but an invitation to forgive yourself and others.

It’s not just about experiencing the amazing grace of a God who loved you while you were still a sinner - before you deserved God’s love or could earn God’s love or even thought you needed God’s love - but learning to love others while they are still sinners, before they have earned it or deserve it or think they need it. It is not just about being welcomed into God’s house or invited to the party, but leaning to welcome and invite others in as well.

That’s what Paul is talking about when he says that God has invited us all into the ministry of reconciliation. God has invited us all - and all really means all here, we’re talking the whole world - God has invited us all into a reconciled relationship with God no strings attached, and is trusting us to extend that invitation to others.

Friends, your sins will not damn you anymore than your righteousness will save you. What saves us is learning to love one another as we have been loved - unconditionally - and forgive as we have been forgiven -freely.

Which is why we need both of these brothers, why we need each other, and why we need God because that is not easy. Especially now! Barbara Brown Taylor wrote these words back in 1999, but I think they are more relevant than ever:

The father has nothing but… love for … both of his sons…. This man refuses to choose between his children. All of his energy is focused on getting them back together again, since each of them has something the other badly needs. If the younger son is going to survive, he badly needs some of his older brother’s discipline and devotion. If the older son is going to survive, he badly needs some of his younger brother’s brokenness and humility. 

        There are no heroes or villains here, just two brothers who have grown up as mirror images of each other. All their lives they have defined themselves by their difference from one another. … While this polarity has provided the family with a perverse kind of balance, the father knows it is time to break the glass.

“A perverse kind of balance…” That line really jumped out at me. I think that’s a perfect way to describe what it feels like to live in such a polarized country… intractable, incontrovertible balance with zero stability.  And “the father knows it is time to break the glass.” Friends I think we’re living in a moment where we need to break the glass, sound the alarm, interrupt the endless cycles of hate and division and recrimination we are living in before it destroys us and both Jesus and Taylor give us an idea of how that might be done:

      (The father, says Taylor), does this by tipping the balance toward the younger son—the sinner—not because the boy is better in any way but simply because he has come home. …

        This puts the burden of a happy ending squarely on the shoulders of the older son (who, remember, wasn’t even invited to the party). According to his father, however, the party is not really about the younger son. It is really a family reunion--or at least the possibility of (one)—if only the elder brother will come inside the house. 

        In order to do that, of course, he will have to make a choice— (a choice) between being right and being in relationship… Remember (says Taylor) that the family crime in this story is not addiction or…abuse. (Those are different issues for a another sermon). (The issue here) is undue forgiveness. It is undeserved love. That is what the elder brother will condone if he walks through the door of that house—not his brother’s behavior but his father’s love. In order to remain part of the family, he will have to make peace with the amorality of that love—either that or leave home himself, in which case he becomes the new prodigal son (“Prodigals All” http://www.prodigalsall.com/barbara-brown-taylor.html.).

Think about all those people who don’t deserve your love or God’s….

God loves everyone you hate.

It’s not fair. And that’s the point.

God’s love is unconditional, and that sucks, except when it doesn’t. It sucks that God loves people who don’t seem good at all when you and I are trying so hard over here to get it right. And it sucks that as hard as we try, we mess up too and need grace as much as anyone else.

Because, friends, we can’t claim God’s grace for ourselves if we’re not willing to extend it to others. This is the great mystery and magic of the gospel - this ministry of reconciliation we are invited into, this party full of fatted calves and robes and rings and unconditional love. And I believe we are at a tipping point where our decision to enter into that party with one another or withhold ourselves from one another matters more than ever.

You know, we talk a lot about resistance these days. More often than not that conjures up visions of how we can resist one another with rallies and letters and non-violent civil-disobedience… and there is a place for that. But I think the resistance most of us are called to is even more subtle than that. I think we can both resist the evil actions of our opponents and leave the door open to love them and pray for them and will them to do better. Because they are not going to listen to us at all if we come at them from a place of hate or disdain.

And so I want to encourage you to resist looking at any neighbor you disagree with right now as an enemy and pray for the grace to see them as a sibling instead; a sibling as imperfect and in need of love and grace as you yourself once were and still are.

Someone who can learn from you and needs you more than they realize.

Someone you can probably learn from too and who you may need more than you know. Only then can we begin to come together to start working on the problems that face us all.

In Micah we are told to do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with our God. But I think in these days we may have to reverse the order. I think we may have to love kindness and be humble in order to find our way back to a place where we can do justice, because justice requires us to work together. That’s why we call it social.

That’s what this ministry of reconciliation can bring about. That’s the place where it starts. And I believe it’s the place where God has been waiting for us all along, waiting to welcome us, waiting with all the love in the world for every last one of us to find our way home. Amen