And he was angry, and would not go in… (Luke 15:28)

When I was a teenager, one of my favorite TV programs was the Smother's Brothers Comedy Hour. Their show was edgy and "hip" to me as a teenager as were their comedy albums. The act featured Tommy Smothers, as the older brother and straight man, and Dick Smothers as the smarter younger brother.

One of their signature routines would be a series of snappy comebacks between the brothers, which on any given topic always ended up with some issue from their allegedly dysfunctional childhood. Brother Dick always got the upper hand in these exchanges and always, brother Tommy would end it by saying "Well, Mom always liked you best."

Our gospel this morning is the story of not a mother, but of a father who has two sons in a contentious relationship. The so — called parable of the Prodigal Son might more appropriately be called the parable of the dysfunctional sons. This parable is about two, presumably grown men, who demonstrate a truly dysfunctional relationship and is also about a father who loves them both.

The parable is one of the most loved in scripture and is one of the most popular subjects for sermons.

The father is always seen as representing God, and the two most common approaches to understanding the sermon are to either compare the older brother to Israel and the younger to the Gentiles, or to use the story as the basis for the need of long — time church members to accept and welcome repentant sinners into the church instead of being religious snobs.

Both approaches have obvious merit, and a review of the sermon archives of the parish will readily demonstrate that both have been affirmed and developed in detail from this pulpit.

So this morning, I want to unpack this parable with a slightly different approach. I want us to examine it from the aspect of the relationships involved — particularly the dysfunctional relationships of both sons to the father and to each other and the father's response to their actions.

The story of course begins with the younger son coming to his father and asking for his share of the family estate — ordinarily to be dispersed only as an inheritance — right now.

This is a complete act of rebellion and rejection on the part of the younger son. In an agrarian society where everything revolved around the patriarchal family, to say "Daddy, I want my share now, so I can be out of here" is in itself, a breaking of the relationship. To any Jew of New Testament times, this request would be unthinkable and rejected out of hand. No father would do such a thing — and the point of the parable is the absurdity of the request.

Yet, the father did this unthinkable thing. He divided the family wealth, most likely giving the younger son the 1/3 of the estate which was his under rabbinical law. The son then promptly left town and famously burned through his share of dad's money with riotous living including consorting with the most immoral characters and totally debasing himself.

Sometimes preachers or teachers will claim that the father is thus "weak" for giving into the younger son's demands. Why did the father honor the son's foolish request when he undoubtedly foresaw the bad outcome that would result?

Let us look at the father's options. It is not likely that the younger son simply woke up one morning and out of the blue made this astounding request to give him his inheritance right now. Such an astonishing request must have been one which had grown in his mind over many perceived wrongs. A hint is given later when the older brother speaks "of these many years I do serve thee" (meaning the father). In current terms, we might observe that the younger son had a very low self-esteem.

One can only surmise the depths of the inferiority felt by the younger brother and his perceived need to flee the family. The older bother's attitude is all too clear in the text. The older brother is one of those who see's all of life as a big scorecard or ledger book. He is a bean counter by nature, and his life revolves around things. In a sense, the older brother has already presumed to claim the entire inheritance as his.

In any event, the father gives the younger son his share and allows him to go his way. In such a circumstance, how could he not do so if he truly loved his son? He could not keep him "on the farm" as a slave and so the father allows his foolish son to exercise what we call "free will" and go his way. Mark Twain famously observed that when he was eighteen years old he thought his father was the most stupid man he had ever met. But Twain also observed that by the time he was twenty — one he was astonished at how much the old man had learned in just three years.

The rebellious, immature younger son runs away and lives the exact opposite lifestyle of the older. The older son worships money and power and is rather puffed up.

His younger brother cares nothing about these things — he just wants the exhilaration of being free. Free from responsibility, free from obligation, free from rules. The younger son must have chaffed under the domineering "bean counting" rule of older son. Perhaps that is why the pendulum swings so far the other way. We all know people like that. Many of us, at one time or another have even tried for a time to be that kind of person.

But the "freedom" the younger son seeks is not free at all. It seemingly costs him everything. event, the younger son is soon "tapped out" and at the bottom of the downward spiral is reduced to slopping pigs and being so hungry that he wallows with the pigs and eats pig slop. This latter would have almost unthinkable to Jews hearing this parable. They would see it as the ultimate degradation. The image of a Jew living and eating with pigs would be far worse than the way we would see someone living in a garbage dump and competing with the rats for food scraps.

The younger son, in his quest for freedom from the burdens of responsibility and the tyranny of his elder brother, becomes instead, a slave to his own appetites. He is still in bondage, but now has a new master. It is then that he compares his current state living in the pig sty, with the state of even the hired help on the family farm. He decides to go home and repent and beg the father to treat him, not as a son, but as an employee.

The father must have been looking for his wayward son everyday, because he spots him coming "while he was yet a great way off" and has compassion on him.

The father is not simply keeping score. The younger son has been an embarrassment and a disappointment, but he welcomes him, receives him as a son and throws a party for him.

The response of the older son gives testimony to his own system of values and his worship of wealth and power. He acts as though he already owns the family estate and depersonalizes and disowns his brother by saying "this thy son" in relation to the younger sibling's squandering of wealth and sinful living and explicitly rejects coming into the house to join in the welcome back party. He also exhibits classic "passive aggressive" behavior in the way he lashes out at father and brother alike.

The elder son, it seems, cannot deal with his repentant brother on the basis of grace and forgiveness. This is true even though the father makes it clear that the practical effects of the younger son's sin remain: the older son is still the first born and is told "all that I have is thine". The father loves both sons, and wants them to be reconciled — not on the basis of their merit, but through the bonds of love.

When Shakespeare's mad old King Lear encounters his daughter Cordelia — the loving daughter he foolishly spurned — he expects to receive from her what he knows he deserves, what he has coming by all the laws of those who count. And when in a flash of other — worldly mercy she forgets and forgives, Lear asks, "Am I in France?" His servants, thinking him still mad, reply, "In your own kingdom, sir."

The father in our parable offers both sons a renewal of relationship that is not based on justice, but on mercy for both sons fall equally short to merit the fathers love. He loves them because they are his sons.

Jesus paints a picture of how God's grace can cover a repentant, both a foolish, rebellious son and a jealous, covetous son. The father responds to both with an offer of grace. Score-keeper and counters won't understand. Pulled down by the weight of their own claims, they can only sputter, "All these years.... You never.... This son of yours...".

The irony of the story is that it turns out the opposite of what would be expected. The son who has seemingly behaved the worst, is the one who is able to repent and be restored to full relationship, because he is truly sorry and has fully surrendered his rebellious will to that of his father. On the other hand, the son who appears to be "righteous" — especially to himself — rejects the fathers invitation to relationship with both father and brother.

This story is similar to the story of the publican and the Pharisee in the eighteenth chapter of St. Luke in which the publican begged God to have "mercy on me a sinner" while the Pharisee said "I thank God I am not like other men. In that instance, Jesus asked his hearers which man was reconciled to God. The ending is the same here. The younger son is reconciled while the elder son refuses to be reconciled and excludes himself. He refuses the gracious invitation and hardens his heart because he thinks he is better than both his younger brother and better than the father who can and has forgiven them both.

The father's love is not an "even or" love, it is a "yes but" kind of love. It's not a "Dad always liked you best" situation. It is a father's love for both sons. Both sons are equally lost and equally offered forgiveness. One responds and the other rejects the offer.

We are all the lost son and we are all the entire older son. Whether you see yourself as more like the younger rebellious, weak-willed brother, or you identify more with the elder over-achieving passive aggressive brother, the point is this: God the father loves you and he invites you into relationship with him. In the parable, the father kills the fatted calf. God however has offered up his only Son on the cross as our price for admission. Like both sons in the parable, you are invited to join the Father's party. The choice is yours: will you go in?

And he was angry, and would not go in… Amen.