It bugs me when something I might say or write is taken out of context. Which is one of the reason I appreciated my theological education, which taught me to consider, among many other things, the context of any passage of scripture in preparing a sermon. We were taught to consider the context in which it was written.

Our gospel text this morning is one of the most familiar of all the stories in scripture, known to people who might not know very many other stories from scripture. But the words. “There was a man who had two sons . . .” can evoke the whole story for most people.

There are lots of reasons for that:  it’s an almost perfect short story, stands all by itself, and everyone can see themselves in the story -- some of us can see ourselves in more than one of the characters.

Most of us have heard this story so many times that we think we know exactly what it says, so we have developed somewhat of an immunity to hearing it in a fresh way. I am convinced that the power of Jesus’ parables for their first hearing was the element of surprise. A twist, a turn, a paradox that shook his hearers to the core and opened them up to seeing the entire world in a different way.

We can’t be surprised by this story unless we are willing to learn something of the context in which it was told.

The first context is that it is found in Luke’s gospel which was written to the group called God fearers; Gentiles who worshipped the One God of Israel. Luke’s gospel is known for its concern for those who have been excluded like Gentiles, the Samaritans, the poor, and women. Luke was written to extend the good news to all who were needy. It is the most inclusive of the gospels.

Within that gospel, the parable is placed in a series of stories about lost things: a sheep, a coin, and now, a child.

And those stories are placed between the vision of the great banquet and teachings about giving up possessions to share with the poor, and the story of the rich man and Lazarus.

It would seem, there are some important reasons to think this parable might have less to do with a father’s forgiveness and more to do with economic justice and inclusion of those who were previously not included. There is, in the stories of the lost thing, a profound understanding of connection, wholeness, completeness and value of those who were not valued by the culture at large.

Then, there is the context of the Middle East itself. That culture and the traditions of those who would be hearing this story.

Kenneth Bailey, a Presbyterian professor at the Hebrew College in Jerusalem and a former missionary to Arab peasants writes that not much has changed in that culture over the years. It is a culture that values personal honor and family loyalty. It is a society that values the first born over the other children, and while that sounds cold and unfeeling to us, there were some practical reasons for it. The oldest son inherits the lion’s share of the father’s wealth, including the land. That is so it stays in the family, and stays large enough to farm. It doesn’t take much math to figure out what would happen if the land were divided in each generation. One can’t raise much of a crop on a plat in a subdivision.)

 There are some scholars who say that by asking for his inheritance early, the younger son insulted his father. That it was like wishing his father dead and would have been a huge insult in that tradition. It would have been an insult to the Arabs that Bailey knew. But according to Jewish law and tradition, sometimes inheritance was given while both parties were still alive. There is even biblical precedence for it. But, it probably would still be unseemly, even in our culture. And, as I have said before, the inheritance wouldn’t have been much. (Even in this text, we are told later on that the father tells the older brother “all that is mine is yours.”)

Both of those sons would have known their entire lives that one was going to inherit and one was not. Some scholars see the story of Jacob and Esau in this story.

I have been wondering all week why the younger son left home. We aren’t given a reason. It may not be important. It obviously wasn’t important to Jesus.

But all of Jesus’ hearers would have known that as a second child, this son wasn’t the ‘favored’ son, and lived in the shadow of the first born who received preferential treatment his whole life long.

The youngest son, for whatever reason, wanted to get away from both the father and the older brother. Get away from it all. and as far away as he could get. We are told he went to ‘a distant land.’ And we are told he spent all his money there on ‘dissolute living.’

Oprah Winfrey had a guest on her show this week that wasted his own windfall. A homeless man who was given $100,000. He related to her and the audience that he was back to living on the streets, collecting cans for money. He is not addicted to alcohol or drugs and he is not mentally ill. But he spent the money on others and what we would call unwise choices. The truth is, that this fellow harbors the belief that he doesn’t deserve to have means. When I heard him, I thought of the younger son, trained from an early age to know that he was a second class child, and one who probably internalized the notion that he was somehow less valuable, less deserving than his older brother.

Dissolute living. Bad choices.

In our story, the older brother later accuses the younger brother of wasting his money on prostitutes, but that’s not what we are told in the story. Dissolute living here means only undisciplined, unwise. What it really means is living like a Gentile, as opposed to living like an observant Jew. The way we spend our money reflects what we value. Reflects our basic values. This son was not valuing those things that an observant Jew would value. He was living like a Gentile.

Luke reinforces the idea that this son has become a Gentile by having him feed pigs. But he is not just a Gentile. He is a poor Gentile. He has been a poor man his whole life, even while living in his father’s home. He may have eaten better and had a roof over his head, but he lived knowing he had no future, no hope of inheritance, and no hope of owning his own land.

Luke then tells us that he ‘came to himself.’ The words mean just what they sound like. He comes to grips with the reality of his situation. He becomes conscious, aware. He woke up.  Eventually he would be little more than a hired hand on his father’s and later his brother’s farm. But at least he was a part of the family. Right now he was broke and hungry. But he did have family. He could at least earn a wage and would have a roof over his head. He came to himself.

He went home.

I am guessing that so far, not much in this story would have surprised Jesus’ hearers that much. This is just the background information.

It is the father’s response that would have been so surprising to Jesus’ hearers.

They would have been scandalized by the response.  When Kenneth Bailey told this story to Arabs, he discovered that it was so shocking that Arabic translations of the story omit that detail of the father running, because running in public is an act too humiliating to attribute to a man of means and status. To the Arab hearing this story, this son has already dishonored the father, and then accepting the son back into the fold he dishonors himself. Without the running.

For a man to run in that culture, he would have to gather up his robes and expose his legs, which was considered to be a shameful spectacle. But in this story, the father rushes through the village, disregarding his own public humiliation, and spares his son the shame of coming through the village dressed in rags, smelling of pigs and slop.

Remember, all this happens before the son says a word.

We have been told that this story is about repentance, and the younger son has prepared an apology. But the father is the one who has really repented. Turned, changed, going a different way from the way he has always gone – he is living in a very counter cultural way.

The son finally gets his apology out, and is contrite. He even says, “I am no longer worthy to be your son.”

This is where the father’s repentance continues, I would imagine to the surprise of Jesus’ hearers.

The father dresses his son in his best robe and ring. This son who in this culture has no value, is gift wrapped, treasured, valued.  Then they walk home through the village together.

The father would have been the laughing stock while this son’s disgrace is cloaked in respectability. But you can almost see him grinning broadly and holding his head high while embracing his child on that walk through town.  

The poor son is treated with preferential treatment for the first time in his life. The one who was as a Gentile his been received with open arms. The one who has always been poor is given a greater share.

There is reconciliation, even though it flies in the face of this honor-shame society. Even though it is upside down from the way things have always been done.

“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!”

I imagine the folks who were gathered to hear this story and wonder as they looked around, who was missing?  Who was lost to them? Who was left out of the banquet? Who was not included in the fullness of life?

To the Jews, especially the Pharisees, perhaps it would have been the Gentiles. To others it might have been tax collectors and others who were considered sinners. The kinds of people Jesus spent time with, the kinds of people Jesus valued even though they weren’t valued by the culture. To some it might have been the poor. The poor who received the short end of the stick.

If this story is about economic justice, as so much of Luke seems to be, then Jesus may have been commenting on an economic system that excluded the poor. Jesus seems to be reminding us that the poor are part of our family too. Perhaps the real repentance in this story is calling for the repentance—or turning, or over-turning of unjust economic systems. Systems where some have a lot and others have nothing. Systems set up to make sure things stay that way. Jesus wanted us to give preferential treatment to the poor, not the rich.

But that won’t be easy, and it won’t happen without a response.

In other words, the story isn’t over.

There is the reaction of the older brother.

The kid who has always been the privileged one, the honored one, and yes, the responsible one.

He isn’t even invited to the party. It’s as he is coming in from the field where he has been working when he hears the party and he’s not a happy camper. He doesn’t want to go in. So now, in Middle Eastern culture, it’s the older son who dishonors the father.

But just as the father did for the younger, the father goes out of his way to bring him back into the fold. But the son wants none of it.

The son speaks in a shockingly disrespectful way, the way one might address a servant, not a parent.

"Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you."

He’s furious and it sounds as if he has stayed out of obligation rather than out of love.

But the father, instead of calling the son on his rudeness, begs him to come join the party.

The one with power gives up power to restore a broken relationship.

So, one son was lost and it seems as if another is just as lost.

When those who have imagined themselves on the inside, those who have privilege, and prestige and enjoy the benefits of belonging are challenged to let others in – others that they would like to keep out – there is going to be resistance and anger at those changes.  

When those who have lived under an unjust economic system seek to change that system, those who have most benefited from the old system are going to be very unhappy.

There will always be resistance to change. Jesus is not advocating tossing out the wealthy. Jesus is offering a vision for all of us to sit at the table as brothers and sisters.

Jesus doesn’t tell us what happens, doesn’t conclude the story, because the conclusion is up to us.

It is up to us how we will respond to Jesus’ invitation to include and value everyone . . .

Jesus’ invitation to give preferential treatment to the poor. ..

Jesus invitation to see our relatedness to all of humanity. ..

and share the feast that has been prepared.

The feast of this table, where there is enough for everyone and every one is good enough!

 Yes, it is up to us whether or not we will share in the joy of new life that is offered.