Psalm 139 and Luke 15:11-32

Most of us have had the experience of being woken up by one of these things (hold up alarm clock). Or today, this thing (hold up cell phone) can be an alarm clock along with being a telephone, message device, place to play games, and generally be distracted. While I’m a morning person, I have a tendency to hit snooze and so I set multiple alarms so as to force myself to get up.

Each of us has a relationship with time. Some of us are pretty aware of what time it is (either because we have a watch on our wrist or our cell phones with us all of the time or because we have a natural awareness of the time of day given the position of the sun or when certain things happen). Others of us are time-blind. We couldn’t tell you the time of day to save our life, or how much time has passed since we last looked at the time.

Our Psalm this morning talks about time, although in a roundabout way. Psalm 139 is a prayer to God from a person who knows that God is with them every moment of their day. You can follow along in the bulletin again:

LORD, you have examined me
and know all about me.
You know when I sit down and when I get up.
You know my thoughts before I think them.
You know where I go and where I lie down.
You know everything I do.
LORD, even before I say a word,
you already know it.
You are all around me—in front and in back—
and have put your hand on me.
Your knowledge is amazing to me;
it is more than I can understand.

The Psalm teaches us the Lord is a part of our every moment. From the time we get up, to the work and the things we do and say throughout the day, to our going to sleep, the Lord knows it and sees it.

That can be a scary thing, if you think about it, that the Lord sees and knows all. That is where the feeling of shame comes from. Even if no one else sees us doing a wrong and sinful thing, that feeling of shame is there. Why? Because we cannot escape God’s presence. 

So, it can be tempting to turn God into a divine eye in the sky, like a divine drone who spies on things down here on earth. It can also be tempting to create distance between God and us. We can turn God into a divine clockmaker, a God who created everything, set the world and the wheel of time in motion, and can watch what is happening from a distance, but a God who never gets involved beyond that. 

But the Scriptures give witness to a very personal God. Psalm 139 that we read goes even more personal:

You made my whole being;
you formed me in my mother’s body.
I praise you because you made me in an amazing and wonderful way.
What you have done is wonderful.
I know this very well.
You saw my bones being formed
as I took shape in my mother’s body.
When I was put together there,
you saw my body as it was formed.
All the days planned for me
were written in your book
before I was one day old.

The message is this: God created and formed you in your mother’s womb. God made you in a wonderful way. God has your days planned for you. 

Our gospel reading this morning is a story about God knowing and caring and forming a person. Our gospel reading was the Parable of the Prodigal and His Brother. You probably have heard the parable: A man had two sons. The younger son, the prodigal, asks his father for his share of the inheritance early – an audacious request in any century. The prodigal son then proceeds to travel to a far country where squanders his inherited wealth on dissolute living. Ashamed, he finally comes to his senses and resolves to return home, expecting to be nothing more than a day laborer for his father.

His father, who you have to imagine everyday stared down the road wondering whether his son would ever come home again, suddenly throws off whatever he is doing and runs towards what he thinks just might be his son coming out of the distance. With hugs, kisses, and many tears the father puts his arm around his younger son’s shoulder and walks him back home. That night, the father throws the party of the year for whole village. You can imagine the rumor mill beginning to crank up production, but the father has one thing in mind, “let us eat and celebrate, for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”

Meanwhile, the older son, who is apparently unaware of what has just taken place, hears music coming from the deck and asks one of his servants, “what is going on?” He’s already feeling slighted that a party is happening at his own house without him knowing, let alone when he learns the news that it’s for his sleezeball younger brother. Miffed and hurt he lets his father have it, “How could you throw a party like this for this scumbag younger brother of mine who’s lost half of everything you’ve ever worked for, when I’ve been working my tail off for you all my life?”

It’s easy to read ourselves (or others) into the Parable of the Prodigal Son and His Brother. At times, we’re like the Prodigal Brother, off in a far country of our choosing, squandering the life we’ve been given, face down in a ditch, or making friends with a bunch of pigs. When we do finally come to our senses, like the Prodigal Brother who Luke bluntly says, “came to himself” (meaning for the first time in his life he took responsibility for his actions, choices, and own well being) we’re ready to sing Amazing Grace.

At other times, though, we’re like the older brother, knocking ourselves out to please whoever we think has power over us. The older brother’s problem is not that he was angry at his younger brother’s actions – squandering half of anything, let alone a large inheritance is stupid and cause for anger. The older brother’s real problem is that he cloaked himself in self-righteous bitterness. He refused to even see his younger brother when he returned home. Bitterness is a tempting cocktail, it burns going down but fires up your blood. But, bitterness, as the novelist Anne Lammott says, “is like drinking rat poison and then getting angry that you’re sick and the rat didn’t die.”

Which is, frankly, what my family was hoping would happen in the case of our relative. We were hoping he would come to his senses, repent of his actions, and at least try to make right his wrong. We all agreed that we could eventually forgive him for losing the money, it was the lying, secrecy, and refusal to take responsibility for his actions that we have a hard time forgiving. Except, that hasn’t happened.

But, as interesting as the two sons are, this parable is really about the actions of the father. For, Jesus tells this parable to give us a glimpse into who God the Father is. Notice the actions of this father, for this is the character of God:

• The father gives both of his sons the freedom to chose their way. But, they alone are responsible for their choices.
• The father, when he sees the younger son out in the distance, sets off running.
• The father wraps both of his arms around the prodigal son and kisses him.
• The father throws a lavish party and kills the fatted calf for his younger son’s return.
• Finally, the father pleads with the older son to come and join the party.

The second century theologian Irenaeus claimed that the Holy Spirit and the Son, Jesus Christ, are the two outstretched arms of the Father. We think of God as Triune – three and one. He uses both of them to pull us into his heart. With one hand the Father holds us secure in the work of Jesus Christ. With the other hand, the Father comforts us through the Holy Spirit, who conveys the Father’s love.

In our denomination, we like to say that “no matter who you are or where you are on life’s journey, you are welcome here.” This doesn’t mean that anything goes or that we’re loosy goosy or that we tolerate every human behavior. There is right and there is wrong. What it means, is that whether you’re like the prodigal son squandering life in the far country or the older brother cloaked in self-righteous bitterness or somewhere in between – when you walk through our doors we want you to know the love of God the Father. We want you to be changed by his outstretched arm in Jesus Christ pulling you back close to his heart. We want you to be renewed in his love through his Holy Spirit so that you may worship and serve the Lord your God and no other all the days of your life.

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.