Tag: bad theology

Time to Be Prodigally Prophetic

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Lent, Sermons Year CLeave a comment

 

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32 NRSV

One day, Jesus is confronted by some grumbling Scribes and Pharisees: “Jesus, why do we keep hearing these stories about you hanging out in some sketchy parts of town? We hear these rumors about you eating and drinking with those people, the kind of people everyone knows are sinners!”

 “And you claim to be a man of God!”

“Rabbi, if you are a Rabbi, let me tell you something. Our God is an awesome God who will punish not only the sinner, but the sinner’s children and grandchildren. God will strike you down with a lighten bolt, and if not that, send a cancer, a heart attack or maybe a stroke. And, Jesus, you better watch out, because if you get too many sinners in one place, too many sinners at one bar or pub, or in one city or in one nation, God might send a tornado or an earthquake, and take out everyone!”

When Jesus is confronted by these religious people with a bad and violent theology, he responds as he usually does—by telling a story. Here, he tells three stories—one about a lost sheep, another about a lost coin and another about a lost boy. The parable of the lost boy has been commonly referred to as the “Parable of the Prodigal Son” for some pretty good reasons.

Growing up in church, my home pastor would often use the dictionary when he came to a point like this in his sermon. I think he defined a word for us every Sunday!  He would say, “Now, Webster defines ‘prodigal’ as…”  In that spirit, but with a 21st century twist, allow me to do the same: Now, Google defines “prodigal” as…

  1. wastefully or recklessly extravagant
  2. giving or yielding profusely; lavish
  3. lavishly abundant; profuse
  4. a person who spends, or has spent, his or her money or substance with wasteful extravagance.

The youngest son had the gall to demand his inheritance so he could leave home.  Demanding his inheritance meant that he had come to this point in his life where he did not mind regarding his father as being dead and buried. Isn’t that nice?

Then the surprising part. The father just hands it over. Then, we are told that the boy ventures out into a wild and “distant country,” I guess like West Virginia, where he wasted every red cent whooping it up—thus, the designation “prodigal”— reckless, lavish, wasteful, extravagant.

When the boy ran out of money, there was a great famine in the land. That was when the prodigal son found a job feeding pigs, and things got so bad, the boy thought about eating and drinking with the pigs!

“Oh, of course there is a famine,” say the religious leaders with their bad and violent theology! “That is what we are trying to tell you!  A famine! That is brilliant!  Oooh. God is soooooo good. I bet that boy starves to death! Or at least gets a bad case of salmonella from eating with the pigs. And serves him right! A just punishment for a prodigal—one who had everything only to recklessly waste everything. Death from lack! Death from scarcity! What wonderful irony. How cool is God?”

 Jesus continues… “the boy decides to go back to the father and beg forgiveness…”

“Yeah, good luck with that!” the religious leaders howl, laughing at such a ridiculous scenario!

However, we know the rest of the story…

“And when he was “a long way off,” the father saw him and ran and embraced him. Think about this. How do you suppose this father saw him “a long way off?” Because the father had been waiting, looking down the road every day for the boy to return.

Some of my fondest childhood memories are sitting on the front porch with my brother and my sister, waiting and watching for Daddy to come home from work. We would position ourselves on the porch at just the right angle so if we squinted and strained hard enough, we could see through our dogwood trees and our neighbors’ crepe myrtles to get a glimpse of Daddy’s Green Ford LTD from a half a mile away. Then we would be ready to run out into the yard to pounce on Daddy as soon as he opened the car door to welcome him home.  As soon as he got out of the car I would jump on his back, while my sister and brother would grab both his legs. On a good day, if we could muster just enough leverage, Daddy would fall into the grass where we would lavish him with hugs and kisses like three little puppy dogs while he nearly tickled us to death. Mama, used to get on us. She’d remind us how tired Daddy was from working all day, and how one day when he drove up and saw us running and screaming towards the driveway, he was going to just keep going down the road!

I think mama was just jealous.

Every day, this father sat on his front porch, gazing down the road, watching and waiting, hoping and praying, grieving for his boy to return home. And while the boy was still a long way off, when through the fig and the olive trees the father could just make out his silhouette coming doing the road, the father got up and started running to meet his child, and throwing his arms around him, he began kissing him profusely.

I wonder how long the father waited for his son’s homecoming.  I wonder why the father waited. Can’t you just hear his concerned friends and neighbors, or maybe even his pastor telling him: “Old man, it’s time for you to move on. You’ve gotta get past this.  You’ve gotta face the facts. He’s not coming back. It’ time to get over it. It’s time to move on. Concentrate on your older boy who’s still here with you.”  But every day, the father still waited and watched and hoped and prayed and grieved.

 And he really didn’t have any evidence that his son was still alive. A young kid with a pocket full of cash, first time away from home, traveling alone—he was an easy target to any would-be thieves and murderers. Remember the story of the Good Samaritan? Still, the father patiently, and you might say…recklessly… waited. Every day, he kept looking down the road in front of his house. Straining to see, hoping and praying to see, his son coming home.

Then the great reunion and the biggest, most extravagant homecoming party anyone has ever heard of! The sandals, the ring, the robe, the best one! The calf, the fattest one! Nothing held back for this son who everyone thought was dead but now is alive, was lost and now is found.

And the religious leaders are seething, but now, with the older son. Listen how the older son talks about his brother: “How can you do this for ‘this son of yours?’ “How can you do this, not for ‘my brother,’ but for this one who’s, as far as I am concerned, a stranger, a foreigner, from some distant country?”

Then, it occurs to us.

We thought this was a story of a prodigal son, but it’s really a story of a prodigal father. It is a story of a parent’s love that is “reckless,” “profuse.” “extravagant,” and “excessive.”

When the boy wanted to leave home, the father recklessly gave him his inheritance. While the boy was gone out into the far country, his friends and neighbors would say that the father recklessly waited. And when the boy at last returned, the father recklessly threw an extravagant party. The father loved his son prodigally when he left home, he loved him prodigally while he was away from home, and he loved him prodigally when he returned home.

The good news is that is how our God loves each one of us.  It’s the exact opposite of violence. Our God is a God who, when it comes to love, holds nothing back. God’s love for us is extravagant, excessive, relentless, even reckless. The point of the story is that God’s love for us is profusely prodigal.

This is why we should never apologize for loving others in a way that the conservative religious culture would characterize as “liberal” or “radical.”

God is profusely prodigal in God’s desire to draw all of us unto God’s self. God is relentlessly radical to have us in God’s arms so God can shower us with divine kisses. And as the ranting of the religious leaders and the anger of the older brother reveal, such prodigal love, such extravagant grace and profuse mercy, such over-the-top compassion and empathy, will always be rejected by the conservative religious culture, and even frowned upon by some of our family members.

In fact, if we are praised by the predominant religious culture and by most in our families, then that is a tell-tell sign, that when it comes to love, when it comes to being a disciple of Jesus, we are doing something terribly wrong.

So, like a parent waiting on the porch for their wayward child to return home, may our love for others and for this planet, may our love for justice and equality, our love for diversity, equity, and inclusion, may our love for peace and freedom, always be profusely prodigal.

Then, it will be prophetically prodigal. Because love—when it is extravagant, when it is lavishly abundant and reckless, when it is completely nonviolent and unconditional, when it is radically counter-cultural and seemingly foolish—that’s the type of love that has the power to change the world! In fact, it is the only power that can change this world!

Ya gotta love that we are having our first nonviolent peace vigil this week on April Fool’s Day, as I am sure that we will have some passersby look at the signs we will be holding and say: “Look at dem crazy fools!” Because when we dare to be prophetically and publicly prodigal in a conservative, religious town, we are going to look foolish. And perhaps we are. How foolish are we?

  • We’re prodigally prophetic and foolish enough to believe that the only life worth living is a life that is given away.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe the Kingdom of God belongs to the poor.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe those who hunger and thirst for justice will be filled.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe the last shall be first.
  • Thus, we’re prodigally prophetic and foolish enough to use our power and privilege, not to enrich ourselves, but stand up for the marginalized, defend the most vulnerable, and free the oppressed.
  • We’re prophetically prodigal and foolish enough see every human being, every race, color, gender, and every sexual orientation, is the image of God, that every person is a beloved child of God.
  • We’re foolish enough to forgive seventy times seven.
  • We’re foolish enough to turn the other cheek, go the extra mile, give the very shirt off our back.
  • We’re prodigally foolish enough to feed the hungry, love an enemy, welcome a stranger, and visit a prison.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe that this world, this earth can be a better place, that all of creation can live in peace.
  • We’re prodigally foolish enough to get back up when life knocks us down.
  • We’re prodigally foolish enough to never give up, never give in, and never give out.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe that nothing can separate anyone from the love of God.
  • We’re recklessly, profusely, prodigally, prophetically foolish enough to believe that nothing can stop us, not even death, because nothing can stop love. Nothing can cause it to fade or to fail. Love always wins, and love never ends.

Religion Is Making the Pandemic Worse

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Short Articles3 Comments

This pandemic is terrifying, and religion is making it worse.

Science is being denied in the name of religion as pastors, politicians and parishioners are ignorantly insisting that people should still gather for worship putting all of us at risk. But what I believe is even worse than that is the insidious theology that is being expressed by people of faith everywhere.

“God is in control” they post. “God doesn’t make mistakes” they say. “God is trying to teach us something” they sermonize.

Really? God, the creator and source of love, Love Itself, wants the most vulnerable among us to die alone, sick, afraid and unable to breathe?

I believe religion is making this pandemic even more terrifying, because there are too many people in this world who are following the wrong god.

Too many Christians have created their own version of God, their own Lord, their own King, who sits up on some heavenly throne pushing buttons, pulling levers, controlling, dominating, dictating.

A tornado strikes. They say, “God is trying to get our attention.”

Cancer happens. They say, “God has God’s reasons.”

A loved one dies. They say, “God needed another angel.”

A pandemic rages. They say “God must be angry.”

“God is in control. God does not make mistakes. God knows what God is doing.” They think they are making things better by saying these things, but they are only making things worse.

This is why I believe this week that we call “Holy Week” which begins this weekend is so important. The events we remember this week remind us what kind of God, what kind of King, we serve. Holy Week reminds us, contrary to what some of our Christian friends say, God does not rule like the rulers of this world. God does not reign from some heavenly throne in some blissful castle in the sky, but God rules from an old rugged cross, right here on earth, between broken people like you and me.

The rulers of this world rule from places of self-interest and self-preservation. They rule from places of greed and pride.

However, this Holy week teaches us that Christ is a King who rules from a polar-opposite place—a place of self-expending, self-dying, sacrificial, suffering love.

Christ the King does not rule with an iron fist; Christ the King serves with outstretched arms. Christ the King does not cause human suffering from some far away heavenly realm; Christ the King is right here in our realm sharing in our suffering.

Theologian Arthur McGill put it this way:

God’s power is not a power that takes, but is a power that gives.

God’s power is not a power that rules, but is a power that serves.

God’s power is not a power that imposes, but is a power that loves.

God’s power is not a power that dominates, but a power that dies.

This is why it is no accident that Jesus undertakes his mission to the poor and to the weak and not to the rich and the strong; to the dying and not to those full of life. This is why Jesus was so concerned about those marginalized and demonized by organized religion and the power-that-be. McGill continues:

For with these vessels of need God most decisively vindicates the divine power: a power of service whereby the poor are fed, the sinful are forgiven, the weak are strengthened, and the dying are made alive.

God did not cause this pandemic. The day the first person was infected was a day of anguish for God.

God did not create the layoff. The day you were told that your job was ending, God stayed up with you and worried with you all night long.

And God did not take our loved one. When they died, something inside of God died too. For self-givers are never takers.

A more accurate and theologically sound way of describing what happened to our loved ones when they breathed their last breath is that God came, and God, wholly, completely and eternally, gave all of God’ self to them.

So when this pandemic gets us down, we need to remember the great truth of Holy Week—Christ is King. And this King is reigning, suffering, sacrificing and giving all that God has to give from the cross. God’s throne is not made of silver and gold. God’s throne is made of wood and nails. God wears not a crown of jewels, but God wears a crown of thorns.

And when more people begin to understand this, that God did not bleed for only a few hours during one Holy Week, but continues, even today, to bleed for us, to pour God’s self out for us, perhaps religion will cease making this pandemic worse.

It will be what gets us through it. And then, together with our Easter God, we will make something very good come out of it all.

We’re Able, but Are We Willing?

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year C2 Comments

bridges not wallsLuke 16:19-31 NRSV

This morning, Jesus is telling another story to teach us something about the nature of God—who God is, how God acts, and what God desires. And as I said last week, we usually find that something in that part of the story that takes us by surprise, shocks us.

It is not difficult to find that moment in this morning’s lesson. But to fully grasp it we need to know a little background about original audience.[i] The Pharisees were notorious for believing and teaching some very bad theology. It is what we call “TV evangelist theology,” “the prosperity gospel” or the “health and wealth gospel.”  It means that we can find favor with God, and if we do, whether it is by living a pure and holy life or by giving generously to God “through a seed offering to the name and address displayed on your television,” then God will bless you with health and wealth. In fact, if you give regularly to their ministry, not only can you expect to receive an autographed copy of their new book, but you can expect to get unexpected checks in the mail! You will not only feel good that you are supporting a great ministry, but you may also be healed your disease or disability.

So here’s the thinking:

Have a lot of money, a great stock-portfolio, growing investments? Blessed. Living from one social security check to the next? Not blessed.

Have plenty of food, nice clothes and a nice car? Blessed. On food stamps, wear worn, old-fashioned clothes, drive a broken down heap? Not so much.

Have great healthcare, low co-pay and deductible? Access to great doctors? Blessed. No insurance, can’t remember your last check-up? Not so blessed.

Nice home? Blessed. Live in the projects? Not blessed.

Healthy and fit, training to run a 5k? Blessed. Sick, in a wheel-chair, homebound? Unblessed.

The sick and the poor, well, they’re just not living right. They make poor decisions in life. I hate to say it, but a lot of them deserve their plight.

The healthy and wealthy, well, evidently they have been living right. They make good and wise decisions, and because of that, they have caught the eye of God and found some divine favor. The poor? The sick? Well, they’ve caught the eye of God too!

And because of that belief, the Pharisees kept the poor and sick at a distance, outside of their circle of friends. They did everything they could do to keep a large gap between them. They were never invited into their homes and they cringed each time one would stumble into the synagogue.

So Jesus tells a story. There was a rich man from a big family who was well-dressed, well-fed and well-off, and of course lived in an exclusive gated community. And right outside of that gate, was this poor, hungry and sick man named Lazarus.

Lazarus would look through the gate and dream of being able to eat just the left-over scraps from the rich man. The only attention and care he received were from the neighborhood dogs that came and licked his wounds. How unblessed is that?

Well, one day, both men died. After all that’s what all men do, don’t they?  All of the money, good fortune in the world can not prevent it. So, no surprise there.

But hold on, because here it comes. The poor man, the man who was seemingly blessed not so much in life, is carried away by the angels to be with Father Abraham.

And, by this time, you know it is really coming. You can almost feel it! If the church pews had seatbelts, I’d be hearing a lot of clicks about now.

The rich man who had a stellar reputation in the community, the one who was seemingly very blessed in life, the one who always bragged to his friends down at the synagogue how good God had been to him, found himself being tormented in Hades.

C’mon Jesus, really?!? Really?

Really! He looks up and sees Abraham with Lazarus at his side and cries out, “Father Abraham, it’s hot as Hades down here! Please send Lazarus to visit me with just a drop of water!”

Abraham responds, “It’s too late. You are no longer able to be comforted. Besides, there is now this chasm, this gate, this wall separating you from us and us from you. And it has been fixed.

Now, isn’t that ironic? In life, the rich man who separated himself, who kept his distance, segregated and protected himself from the likes of people like Lazarus, is now eternally separated from him. And he is unable to do anything about it.

“Ok,” he says, “If I am unable, my five brothers who are still living are very able! Please send Lazarus to warn them so that they will not join me in this God forsaken place!”

Abraham responds: “They’ve already been warned in the scriptures.”

“But, Abraham, look, uh, I know my brothers, and I am afraid that they are not really into Bible Study, but if someone rises from the grave, then they might listen.”

“No,” says Abraham, “If they are not willing to listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced, even if someone rises from the dead.”

Oh – my – word! Jesus is not just speaking to the Pharisees here, is he? Jesus is speaking to crowds of people gathered almost two-thousand years later on Sunday mornings at 11am who proclaim to know someone who has indeed rose from the dead.

It is too late for the rich man. He is no longer able to change—change his theology, change his heart, change his view of his neighbors living on the other side of the tracks. He is no longer able to tear down the wall and begin building bridges. And although his five brothers are able to change, we learn the sad and the scary truth that they are simply not willing to change.

And here we are, as able as those brothers. The truth is, we are more than able. For not only do we have Moses and the Prophets, we also have Matthew, Mark, Luke, John and Paul and the risen Christ himself. So, the scary question is: are we willing? Are we willing to change our theology, our hearts and our actions? Are we willing to tear down the walls and build some bridges?

Yes, we hear bad theology all of the time from the TV preachers, but we also hear it right here in the local church. And sometimes it comes out of our very own mouths.

When someone compliments us by telling us what a nice home we live in, or what a nice car we drive, or what a beautiful family we have, or how good we look for our age, we respond how we think all good Christians who go to church every Sunday should respond, “Well, the Lord has really been good to me.” “The Lord has really blessed me.”  And we even believe responding in such a manner might coax God into blessing us some more!

Through the story of the Rich Man and Lazarus, Jesus says that our wealth and our health and our nice teeth are not signs that we are God’s favorites. In fact, those things may be some of the bricks in the wall that separates us from those who are poor, sick and have never seen a dentist. And according to Jesus, if we do not do something about it, that wall, that chasm, will eternally separate us from God.

When someone who is doing the best they can to make ends meet, who is struggling to put food on the table and keep the lights on, hears someone who has it all proclaim, “Yes, the Lord sure has been good to me! The Lord has really blessed me!” what are they to think?  What else can they think except: “Obviously, for some reason or another, I am not one of God’s favorites.”

So, should those of us with good jobs, nice homes and a clean bill of health thank God for what we have? Absolutely! But should we interpret our nice things as a sign that God has looked down on us favorably, given us a nod and a wink—a pat on the back? Jesus says, absolutely not!

One week before Hurricane Katrina paralyzed the Gulf Coast, a young mother went into labor about 10 days before her due date. Although she needed a C-section, she delivered a healthy boy in a New Orleans hospital. She later interpreted having the baby 10 days early as a sign of God’s divine favor. She said, “God knew that if the baby was born on the due date, we would not be able to get to a hospital. So, God made the baby come early.”

There’s no doubt she should thank God the baby came early; however, Jesus says she needs to be very careful how she interprets and shares her story because, without knowing it, she may be building a wall or a chasm between her and someone else. For example, what is the New Orleans father to think whose baby did not come early, whose wife was unable to go to the hospital because of the flood, and because of that, lost not only his baby, but his wife too?  Did God favor one family over the other?

Jesus said, absolutely not! And if you think that because of your good fortune in life you are blessed, one day you might find yourself asking someone who was less fortunate than you in life for a sip of water!

Jesus also put it this way: the sun shines on the good and the evil and the rain falls on the just and unjust alike (Matthew 5:45).

One day Luke says that Jesus cried out, “How often have I desired to gather everyone together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, but you were not willing!” (Luke 13:34).

The question for us this morning is this, “Are we willing to be gathered under the wings of grace[ii] and see all people, rich and poor as our brothers and our sisters. Are we willing to start building bridges or keep putting more bricks in the wall?”

The good news for us is, unlike the rich man in our story, it’s not too late. We are able, more than able. The question is, “Are we willing?”

[i]Cousar, Charles B.; Gaventa, Beverly R.; McCann, J. Clinton; and Newsome, James D., Texts for Preaching: A Lectionary Commentary Based on the NRSV–Year C (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 1994)

Craddock, Fred B., Luke, Interpretation. (Louisville:  John Knox Press, 1990)

Craddock, Fred B.; Hayes, John H.; Holliday, Carl R.; and Tucker, Gene M., Preaching Through the Christian Year, C (Valley Forge:  Trinity Press, 1994)

Culpepper, R. Alan, Luke, The New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume IX.  (Nashville:  Abingdon, 1995)