A Father's Heart -- Luke 15:11-31

I am going to pretend that I am a character in the Bible. As I speak, I want you to try to guess who I am. Don't say it out loud -- just try to guess.

[turn back to congregation. Take up props -- glasses & cane. Turn around and assume character.]

You wouldn't know it to look at me now, but I used to be RICH! Really rich. I had Houses, I had Lands, I had Investments. Everything a man could desire.

And you know, its rather nice to have money. People treat you very well when you have money. They come to you for advice when you have money. They treat you very politely when you have money. It's easy to have friends when you have money.

Ah, But wait until you start to get old. [Animated -- building volume] You know how vultures gather around a dying animal. The same thing happens when a rich person gets old. People flock around with beady vulture eyes waiting for you to die so they can feed on your money.

[pause -- tone of resignation] Not that I have anything to worry about. I am just a poor old man now. My boys took care of that.

[warmer, enthusiastic] Have I told you about my boys? [No?] I have two boys. Levi and Jake. They're grown now. I have some baby pictures of them somewhere here. They were much better looking when they were babies. I remember how excited I was when they were born. Levi came first, -- no trouble, hardly a peep. Two years later, Jake arrived. He didn't stop crying for three months.

They were so different from each other!

Levi. He was the responsible first-born. The perfect son. He was always helpful. ["Could I please do the dishes again mother." "Oh, Dad, I would love to mow the lawn.] He was always polite. ["please, thankyou, yes sir, no sir, how do you do"] He worked hard, got good grades, he was responsible with money. Why, one day -- he was about thirteen -- I left him alone. When I came back the lawn was mowed, the laundry done and the whole house cleaned. Amazing boy.

But one thing puzzled me about Levi. He worked so hard and did so well, and pleased everyone. But he never seemed very -- happy. In fact he brooded alot. He was almost sullen at times, and at those times I felt a great distance from him.

Jake. He was not quite so perfect a son. Jake was wild. He was almost never polite. Never helpful. He could never sit still or be quiet. He always had to be doing something. Work never interested him much. And money -- like water to him. It just flowed through his fingers. Jake was always easily bored. Always ancy. Never content. I didn't dare leave him alone. If he was alone for more than an hour he'd organize a party.

The two were constantly fighting. Levi was constantly after Jake for being lazy and messy. One day he took a can of paint and painted a line right down the middle of their room. He told Jake would shoot him if he ever crossed it. Jake would just egg him on.

So different from each other. But oh how I loved my two boys! I loved just to be with them -- to watch them play, to see them grow, to work with them, to teach them. I longed to share everything with them. I couldn't wait for the time when they would grow old enough to be my friends -- then we would hike and fish and argue theology together. They were my greatest joy. And oh how they hurt me!

The day Jake turned 16 he came into my office to ask for his part of my money. "I don't want to wait any longer," he said. "I want to be on my own. The money would be mine eventually -- Why can't I have it now." I felt a pain in my heart, but I covered it with a chuckle. "Usually its considered polite to wait for your father to die before asking for your inheritance," I said. [grim chuckle] "I can't wait for that ", he said. "You're looking too healthy to die naturally anytime soon. I could speed it up, I suppose, but that would be messy. Why don't you just save me the trouble and give me the money."

He wasn't joking. He wished me dead. He wanted what he could get from his father -- but he didn't want his father. [anguished pause -- look down]

[struggles to collect himself] I did what he asked. I divided everything between my two sons -- my land, my investments, everything I had. Within a month Jake had sold all of his share to get cash. He left a few days later.

My heart -- my heart was broken. My boy. My boy had left me.

My neighbors whispered that I was crazy. I should never have given him the money, they said. I should have whipped the spoiled brat into shape, they said. I should have Locked him up until he came to his senses, they said. The fools . Sure I could imprison his body. It was his heart that I wanted.

My friends told me to just forget about him. He'll never be back they said. You might as well treat him as dead, they said And if he ever does come back, he might as well be dead after what he's done, they said.

But how could I forget my boy? I woke up every day thinking about him. Every night I stayed awake praying for his safety.

[conspiratorially] But I did more than that. I followed him. Oh he could run away. But he could not escape my love. Never think you can escape from a true father's love.

No, I knew where my boy was. I was watching as he threw away his money. I saw his wild parties. I saw the greedy eyes of his "friends." I saw the lavish gifts he gave them. I heard their laughter when his back was turned.

And I waited.

I knew when his money was gone. I saw when he was thrown out of his apartment. I saw his "friends" slam their doors in his face. I saw my boy wandering in the streets, sleeping in parks, homeless, hungry, desperate.

And I waited.

I saw him at the farm, when he finally got a job feeding pigs. I saw the filth and the humiliation. The pigs were better fed than he. My son was nearly starving.

And I waited.

Finally it happened -- what I had been waiting for. My son turned his face toward home.

[pensive, tearful] And then I didn't wait any longer. I didn't wait for my son to come to me. While he was still far off, I ran to him. I was NOT going to watch my boy suffer the humiliation of walking through town alone. I knew what would happen. I knew that he would be mocked and taunted. I knew that my neighbors would look on in silent accusation while their children threw stones and cursed. "traitor! foreigner!" So I ran to him. I ran.

Do you understand what that means? My neighbors have NEVER seen me run. They stood on their porches with their mouths hanging open in astonishment. Quite a show I must have made. Teenagers racing me on their skateboards shouting "look at the old man run!" Children running alongside jeering. "Where are you running to, crazy man?" I was a laughingstock.

But I kept running. I ran and did not stop until I could throw my arms around my son.

Now that was an interesting experience. Have you ever tried to hug a telephone pole? He was stiff as a board. And he mumbled a stiff, rehearsed speech. "Father I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son."

What nonsense! My boy did not understand that he was still my CHILD.

I just laughed for joy. "Get this boy my best clothes," I yelled. "Call the caterers. Hire a band. We're going to have a party like this town has NEVER seen," I shouted. "My boy has come home." And slowly as I held him his icy stiffness melted, and he collapsed in my arms, sobbing.

And that should be the end of the story. We all lived happily ever after? I wish it was. Oh, how I wish it was.

We did have a party that night. Everyone in the whole town came. Only one was missing. My older boy's place at the head table was empty. Levi should have been the host. It was his house, his food, his servants. Everything was his. It should have been his party. His absence was like a slap in the face to me -- and an insult to my guests.

But when I saw his place empty, I did not wait for him to come. For the second time that day I ran. I ran out of the house, leaving behind my astonished guests.

I found my boy standing in the back field, sullen, staring into the darkness. [softly, gently] "Your brother has come back," I said. "Please come in. For my sake?" But he turned on me and shouted, "Never. All these years I have worked like a slave for you. And you have never once given even a small dinner party for me. And now this worthless son of yours comes back and you throw a banquet for the entire town -- with my money. I want no part of it."

[look down -- then up]

I lost my older son that day. No, the truth is, I had never had him. He had stayed close beside me, but it was not because he loved me. His body was with me, but not his heart. He stayed close because of what he wanted from me. My boy wanted my property -- but he did not want me. He wanted my position -- but he did not want me. Oh, he was obedient and "good" on the outside. But inside he had the heart of a bitter slave.

And suddenly I saw that my two boys -- my two very different boys -- were not so different after all. Jake was wild on the outside; Levi was obedient. But their hearts were alike -- both proud, both rebellious, both hardened against their father, both needing to be broken to understand their father's love.

Oh how I love my two boys. How I long to hold them both close to me. How I long for them to be my friends.

[Turn back to congregation. Remove props. Resume natural character.]