Rewarding the Nincompoop (reflectons on Lent 4, Year C 2022)

 

Great Depression bread line c. 1932 National Archives

“Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.” (Luke 15:31) 

My dad grew up during the Great Depression. His dad had died in the 1918 pandemic, and my grandmother struggled with nothing but an eighth grade education to make ends meet as a single mother with two young children. By the time my dad reached his fifth birthday, Americans were experiencing an unemployment rate of 25%. Frankly, I can’t begin to imagine how rough life must have been for folks in that day. 

In 1932, America elected a new president who told them the only thing they had to fear was fear itself. My father thought this new president was the Antichrist. 

My dad’s been gone for a long time now, so I can’t really have a frank discussion with him about his political views. I joke now that he was somewhere to the right of Archie Bunker (whom he vaguely resembled), and I suspect that his experience in World War II and the Occupation may have had a great deal to do with the way he viewed government control of the economy—the Soviet Union being, after all, a socialist country. But I now have a slightly different theory. 

I think my Old Man, like many rural Americans who fought and struggled their way through some of the toughest, leanest economic times in our history, absolutely hated the idea that the government would provide a free handout to anyone. Social Security, unemployment insurance, welfare, federal savings insurance—these were all ways in which a government used the tax dollars of hard-working folks to take care of lazy or stupid people who should’ve pulled themselves up by their bootstraps and taken care of themselves. Maybe my dad thought, “If we could go without and still make it through, so can everyone else!” 

I think this is the attitude of the elder son in the famous parable of the “Prodigal Son” Jesus preaches in our gospel lesson for Lent 4 (Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32). If you stop and think about it, what does this guy have to gripe about? As the eldest son, he stands to inherit all of his father’s property when the Old Man kicks off. He has food to eat and a roof over his head. He also has the honor of being helpful and supportive of his father. 

I’ll grant that all the fatted calves and other party victuals will one day belong to Honorable Number One Son. At the moment, however, everything still belongs to his father. This lad isn’t out a nickel because his dad is throwing a party to celebrate his idiot little brother’s return. Nor is he deprived of his father’s love. Why is it that we think the rescue of another somehow wrongs us? 

Yet somehow we have a culture—both economic and political—which values selfishness and makes us covetous, judgmental, and very short-sighted. The elder brother is missing so much of the big picture. We might agree with him that his little brother has been a nincompoop. The kid blew his inheritance and his bankruptcy is his own fault. But what the elder son is missing—and is so apparent in the way Jesus tells this tale—is how the boy’s absence wounds his father. Think about it: if your kid left home, ran off, and you never heard from them and didn’t know if they were living or dead, how would you feel? Big Bro is also missing the fact that his brother really is repentant and has “come to himself.” He can’t seem to wrap his brain around the concept that he himself may one day stand in need of rescue, or that he himself might one day have to ask for forgiveness. 

One good bet you’re on the path to sin is when you start making everything about yourself. It doesn’t hurt any of us to remember that everything we have is a gift from our heavenly Father. We don’t bring anything into this world ourselves, and God certainly doesn’t owe us anything. Some of us will use our resources better than others. Some will be wise, and some foolish. I grant that there will always be rich people and less rich people. I don’t grant, however, that it will ever be pleasing to God that there are rich people and starving people. 

I’ve known people who absolutely hate this parable. I guess we get hung up on an idea of fairness and equality. The truth is, although we’re all equally loved in the sight of God, we aren’t all equal in judgment, power, situation, health, opportunity, or a million other different ways. If we have struggled, let’s hope our struggle hasn’t made us indifferent to the struggles of others.