The Prodigal Daughter

Adapted from the NRSV

Then Jesus said, “There was a woman who had two daughters. The younger of them said to her mother, ‘Mother, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’ So she divided her property between them. A few days later the younger daughter gathered all she had and traveled to a distant country, and there she squandered her property in dissolute living. When she had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and she began to be in need. So she went and hired herself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent her to a brothel to work as a prostitute. She would gladly have eaten the scraps left by her clients; and no one gave her anything. But when she came to herself she said, ‘How many of my mother’s servants have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my mother, and I will say to her, “Mother, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your daughter; treat me like one of your servants.”’ So she set off and went to her mother. But while she was still far off, her mother saw her and was filled with compassion; she ran and put her arms around her and kissed her. Then the daughter said to her, ‘Mother, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your daughter.’ But the mother said to her slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on her; put a ring on her finger and sandals on her feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this daughter of mine was dead and is alive again; she was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate. “Now her elder daughter was in the field; and when she came and approached the house, she heard music and dancing. She called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. She replied, ‘Your sister has come, and your mother has killed the fatted calf, because she has got her back safe and sound.’ Then she became angry and refused to go in. Her mother came out and began to plead with her. But she answered her mother, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this daughter of yours came back, who has devoured your property chasing after lovers, you killed the fatted calf for her!’ Then the mother said to her, ‘Daughter, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this sister of yours was dead and has come to life; she was lost and has been found.’”

Loss

On May 16, I lost my dad. His death came unexpectedly. He started to feel ill on Thursday, and by the following Wednesday he was gone.

While Dad's death is achingly real, there are parts of me that still do not quite believe it. His presence was so strong and so much a part of my life, it doesn't seem possible that I won't feel it again. I don't want it to be true, but I know that it is. I wish I had him back.

At this point, it seems like my only options are to go around crying all the time, or to reside in a somewhat numb place. My nose prefers the numb place. But I find that, as hard as it is, I have to come out and face the loss, the anguish.

God I miss him.

John Lennon's "Imagine"

Imagine there's no Heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace

There are people who believe that a belief in an afterlife leads to an abandonment of our responsibility to others in the present. While I don't see this as a given, I have actually seen that dynamic at work in certain Christian groups. Their view of the Kingdom of God is completely in the future. They see the world as completely fallen, and consider it pointless to do anything to try and better things. For them, no real good can be done until Jesus comes again, so they wind up living for themselves. They miss that the Gospels make it clear that we are to live as if God's Kingdom has come. Our hope must be lived out in the present.

It is also easy to blame religion for conflicts. And unfortunately, Christians have participated in this. Worse, it isn't just in our past; the human tendency to try and solve things through violence is still with us. But it isn't unique to religions. Every ideology can fall prey to it. In fact, I would argue that it is when a religion moves from spirituality to ideology that it succumbs to violent conflicts. When I am seeking God, I will tend to act with compassion. It is only when I stop seeking God because I believe I have the answer that I begin to judge others and try and impose my beliefs on them.

So while I disagree with Lennon, I view the lyrics as a helpful warning. They portray the result of religiosity supplanting faith, law supplanting compassion, and escapism supplanting hope. Instead, I pray that God's Kingdom "come on earth as it is in heaven," and I pray that my actions help make it so.

Visible Faith

As I sat in McDonald’s eating lunch, I noticed a Muslim woman sitting across from me. I had no idea where she was from, but I knew what faith she followed. I realized that this would not work in reverse. While she could make a guess, she couldn’t actually know what faith I followed by looking at me. Knowing would have taken conversation—she would have to ask me.

Should this bother me? Should my faith be clearly visible to the casual observer? The question sat there staring at me. I had to ignore it for a bit while I attended a meeting, but after that I had a chance to return its gaze. In what way should the public expression of my face be visible?

For some Christians this is done through dress or through accessories. They believe there should be a discernable difference between them and the unsaved people around them. Some wear clothing from a bygone era, some wear crosses, some wear t-shirts with Christian jargon, and some carry Bibles. Something visible to proclaim their allegiance—visible piety. But this isn’t how Jesus called us to express our faith.

Time and time again Jesus instructs us in a private piety: pray in solitude, keep your fasting private, give without bringing attention to yourself. True piety isn’t found in ostentatious displays of public worship, it isn’t found in religious trappings, and it isn’t found in garb or accessories. Rather, we find true piety in a radical compassion for others. The Christian walking down the street, sitting on the bus, or eating lunch at McDonald’s will look like everyone else. Christianity cannot be seen at a distance. We have to engage the world. Only when we enter into other’s lives and let them into our lives will Jesus be seen.

In what way should the public expression of my faith be visible? When I love my neighbor as myself.

The Spitfire Grill: My Chance Encounter

Never start flipping through channels when you should be heading for bed.

Bed was already long past due, but I decided to go ahead and quickly check the movie channels. Quickly…yeah right. One of the movies seemed a bit interesting, so I figured I would watch it for a few minutes. Then I decided to wait and see who would show up to claim a bag of food deliberately being left outside. Then I wanted to see how a certain proposal played out. And after that I just had to find out why one of the characters had been in prison. Yes, you guessed it. I watched the rest of the movie.

The movie captivated me—a fairytale that pulled me along intriguing paths winding through an old forest both familiar and strange. An old woman who lives life how she chooses; an inexplicable offering of food; an unseen presence in the woods; a small-town gathering place; a lost son; a dying town. And into the midst of all this stumbles a blemished outsider hoping to find a new life.

Through the story one finds the familiar and expected strands of wariness, suspicion, jealousy, friendship, love, betrayal, and sacrifice. The story unfolds fairly predictably. But then the magic of a fairytale isn’t in the uniqueness of the story. It’s found in the spark of life breathed into the familiar that transforms the mundane to magic. All is still familiar, but now we see it with unveiled eyes. For a moment, we glimpse beneath the surface, and sit entranced.

Sunday Thoughts on Freire

I've recently started reading Paulo Freire's Pedagogy of the Oppressed. I'm barely into the first chapter, and already thoughts are flying. As I was sitting at Starbucks this morning reading Pedagogy and sipping a raspberry tea frappuccino, a quote lept off the page and grabbed my mind.

The oppressed, having internalized the image of the oppressor and adopted his guidelines, are fearful of freedom. Freedom would require them to eject this image and replace it with autonomy and responsibility. pg 31

As I read this, my mind jumped to the disciples of Jesus and the dynamics within the early church. The following arose from this churning.

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Jesus attempted to create a non-hierarchical community of equals. But we repeatedly see the disciples try to entice Jesus into setting up a hierarchy within the group. We also repeatedly see Jesus refusing to do so. Immediately after his ascension the disciples began to set up the hierarchy they so desperately craved. Their internalization of the image of the oppressor outweighed the transformative freedom to be found in the way of Jesus. They adopted guidelines inimical to the Gospel; and yet despite this, the grace of God shines through, promising freedom for those who dare to walk in it.

But this walking demands a divesting of the old order. Those who wield societal power must relinquish the prerogatives of that power, and those who have been dominated by that wielding must reject the values designed to maintain that power.