The Main Course

It was Thanksgiving time. I got a call that a woman’s husband was dying and they needed the pastor. I had been there 2 years as an associate, and had never met or even heard this name mentioned. I wondered at what the story was.

I gathered with the family. The dying man, whose nickname was Shorty, suffered from Alzheimer’s and cancer that had spread everywhere. This is why they hadn’t attended services in the last five years. The family wanted me to go into the room and pray with him. Shorty would get agitated whenever they would go into the room and everyone had been kicked out save for the wife and one grandson. Shorty would start talking about how he was going to hell and how he could see demons and feel the fires, and the family was troubled by this.

I went into the room. Shorty was in his late 80s, but the ravages of cancer made him look ancient. He was almost flat with the bed, just a head and two feet and then a flat sheet in between. He asked who I was and I introduced myself, “I’m the pastor from the church.”
“No you’re not!” he spat. He then told me that the last pastor was the real pastor.
“Well, I’m new. And the other pastor was busy. Can I pray for you?” I asked.
“No.” And then he shut his eyes tight and pretended to sleep.

I read him Psalm 23. I prayed the Lord’s Prayer. I looked up and saw that Shorty was actually asleep, and I went out to talk to the family. I told them that he wasn’t going to trust me. I’m too new. But I could advise them. I told them how when he started talking about hell, remind him of their love. To let their love guide him back to a place of safety. I told them that I would check in on them tomorrow and left.

I returned the next day and found the situation worse. The family was at their wits end. I asked what had happened, they said that they took my advice and it just made thing worse and the man more agitated. It then occurred to me that some men of a certain age never said the word “love.” They had other ways of saying that. I mentioned that to the family. One daughter said, “Oh, yeah. My dad only said, ‘I love you’ when I graduated from high school and college, and when I got married.”

“Whoa, you got two more than me!” said a son.

What words did he use instead? “You did a good job.”, “Good job, tiger”, and “nice work” were his “I love you” phrases. I said that they should use those. And then tell stories about him. Give him their good memories. Then I left and returned the next day.

I found the family was at ease. There was laughing. There were stories. When I came in, I was swarmed. “This has been the best Black Friday Ever!” one grandson exclaimed. The stories worked. The “good job, tiger” was just the thing. Shorty died a few days later, surrounded by friends and family.

Someone asked Jesus, “What is the kingdom of heaven like?” And Jesus answered them, “Once there was this younger son who told his dad to ‘Drop dead, put the will into effect, and give me what’s mine!’ The father did what was asked and the son went to a far land and spend all his inheritance on women and booze. He lost everything and ended up living like a pig. He came to himself and thought, ‘If I’m going to live in humiliation, I might as well do it around familiar faces.’ He went home and his dad ran out to meet him. ‘I’m sorry…” the son started to say but the father cut him off. ‘Welcome home!’ The dad said. ‘Son, you wanted a party? I’ll give you a party.’ That is what the kingdom of heaven is like.”

If you ask me what the kingdom of heaven looks like, it looks like that Black Friday with Shorty’s family. Shorty needed the father’s reminder. He needed to remember who and whose he was. His family was able to act like the father.

The point of the Prodigal son isn’t the brothers. I think that both sons were lost. The first went to look for freedom and happiness in a distant country and got lost doing so, but the older one who stayed home also became a lost man. On the outside, he did all the things a good son is supposed to do. But inside, he wandered away from his father. He did his duty, worked hard every day, and fulfilled his obligations but became increasingly unhappy and unfree.

The sons are not the point. Jesus is calling us to become the father. The father offers grace and forgiveness. He understands both of his sons and calls them both home, into a relationship with one another. Just as Jesus did to those sinners and saints in his world, leper and Pharisee, tax collectors and scribes, Gentiles and Jews all ate at one table.

Maybe, if you’re an older sibling, you’re worried that Jesus is giving people permission to go out and do all kinds of terrible things as long as they walk in afterward and take the free gift of God’s forgiveness. I don’t think it works like that. Once prodigals experience this type of love, you don’t forget. According to Robert Capon, Jesus has the father say only one thing to the older brother: “Cut that out! We’re not playing good boys and bad boys anymore. Your brother was dead and he’s alive again. The name of the game from now on is resurrection, not bookkeeping.”

For a few days in Thanksgiving 2012, Shorty’s family lived out the parable. They brought heaven to earth for their dad, even as he lay dying. I mention this story because you know Shorty. When I walked into this church not quite a year ago, I sat in your new library. I was nervous. I looked around the room and my eyes fell on your list of veterans. And there was Shorty’s name. His name wasn’t always Shorty. His obituary reads, “Steve A. Oravecz JR, 88, of Sylvania, Ohio, passed away Saturday, December 1, 2012, at his home surrounded by his loving family. He was born November 30, 1924, in Medina, Ohio to Steve and Katherine Oravecz Sr.”

God has a funny way of welcoming us home. I knew that was a good sign and y’all have felt like home from that moment on. I see you trying to live like the father that runs to meet the lost and invites the stubborn back to the party. The father throws a party for all. There will be some who can’t stand the party. They see the guest list and they can’t believe that the Baptists, Catholics, Muslims, Atheists whoever is also invited. So they’ll sulk outside wishing they could have been in charge of the guest list. The good news is that we aren’t and God is. Some people can’t stand the party. It’s why we need to surround ourselves with those who speak our language of love. Who remind us of who and whose we are and that same person is in charge of the guest list. We keep welcoming back until all see themselves and everyone else as children of God, invited to this party.

This is the final sermon in our Table Talk series. We started at the wedding party at Cana where we learned the life of faith is something to be celebrated, not mourned. We then learned that the mission of Christ is global and includes the gentiles, those who were once “out” are now “in.” And today, we see everything coming together. The father throws a party for a son that was once “out” to welcome him back “in.” And the son who thought he was “in” is now “out” and is invited back in. Celebration. Welcome. These two things should mark our life together as we come to the Lord’s table.

Bibliography
Bolz-Weber, Nadia. Pastrix: The Cranky, Beautiful Faith of a Sinner & Saint Jericho Books, 2013.

Capon, Robert Farrar, The Mystery of Christ… & Why we don’t get it. Eerdmans 1995.

Nouwen, Henri. The Return of the Prodigal Son; A story of homecoming. Image Books/Doubleday, 1992.

Willimon, Will. ANIMATE! The Bible, Interpretation; Scripture Reads Us. DVD. Sparkhouse 2012.

 

“Shorty” is the second row, 4th name from the bottom

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