Contemporary Word
“...we thought that the Taliban are not that much cruel that they would kill a child, because I was 14 at that time. But then later on, I used to like, I started thinking about that and I used to think that the Tali would come and he would just kill me, but then I said if he comes, what would you do Malala? Then I would reply to myself Malala just take a shoe and hit him, but then I said, if you hit a Tali with your shoe, then there would be no difference between you and the Tali. You must not treat others that much with cruelty and that much harshly, you must fight others, but through peace and through dialogue and through education. Then I said I would tell him how important education is and that I even want education for your children as well and I would tell him, that’s what I want to tell you, now do what you want.”
“...we thought that the Taliban are not that much cruel that they would kill a child, because I was 14 at that time. But then later on, I used to like, I started thinking about that and I used to think that the Tali would come and he would just kill me, but then I said if he comes, what would you do Malala? Then I would reply to myself Malala just take a shoe and hit him, but then I said, if you hit a Tali with your shoe, then there would be no difference between you and the Tali. You must not treat others that much with cruelty and that much harshly, you must fight others, but through peace and through dialogue and through education. Then I said I would tell him how important education is and that I even want education for your children as well and I would tell him, that’s what I want to tell you, now do what you want.”
--- An excerpt from a transcript of an interview by
Malala Yousafzai, a Pakistani activist for female education and youngest-ever
Nobel Prize Laureate. When she was 15, she was attacked and shot in the face by
the Taliban for supporting female education.
Ancient Word
Joshua 5:9-12
Then God said to
Joshua, “Today I have rolled away the reproach of Egypt from you.” So the place
has been called Gilgal to this day.
On the evening of the
fourteenth day of the month, while
camped at Gilgal on the plains of Jericho, the Israelites celebrated the
Passover. The
day after the Passover, that very day, they ate some of the produce of the
land: unleavened
bread and
roasted grain. The
manna stopped the day after they ate this food from the land; there was no
longer any manna for the Israelites, but that year they ate the produce of
Canaan.
Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
Now the tax collectors and sinners were
all gathering around to hear Jesus. But the Pharisees and the teachers of the
law muttered, “This one welcomes sinners and eats with them.” Then Jesus told
them this parable:
“There was a man who had two sons. The
younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he
divided his property between them.
“Not long after that, the younger son
got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his
wealth in wild living. After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine
in that whole country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to a citizen
of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. He longed to fill his
stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.
“When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How
many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving
to death! I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I
have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called
your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ So he got up and went to
his father.
“But while he was still a long way off,
his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son,
threw his arms around him and kissed him.
“The son said to him, ‘Father, I have
sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your
son.’
“But the father said to his servants,
‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and
sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast
and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost
and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.
“Meanwhile, the older son was in the
field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called
one of the servants and asked him what was going on. ‘Your brother has come,’
he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him
back safe and sound.’
“The older brother became angry and
refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. But he answered
his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never
disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could
celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your
property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’
“‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are
always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be
glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost
and is found.’”
***
Will you
pray with and for me? Loving and generous God, open our spirits and hearts to
your word for us today. May all we hear and speak be reflections of your grace.
In all your names, amen.
Our
Gospel reading today is one of those parables that even people who don't go to
church are familiar with, at least in the general outline--guy has a lot of
money, goes away and wastes it all, comes home to ask forgiveness, Dad throws a
big party, big brother is jealous, Dad says to celebrate because his brother
has come home. It has even affected the language--not in the dictionary,
perhaps, but often when people talk about someone as a "prodigal"
they mean someone who has gone away and is now returning in shame. But the
original meaning, the central meaning of "prodigal" is
"extravagant, generous, lavish." So even though it is usually called
the story of the prodigal son, it could also be called the story of the
prodigal father. After all, he throws a wild party when he son comes home--this
younger son who, in a sense, couldn't wait for his father to die, and grabbed
his inheritance when he could.
Now, it's
usually read as a parable of forgiveness, and the two short parables just
before it--the lost sheep and the lost coin--reinforce that reading. And that's
true, I think. But it's more than that. Isn't it also about new beginnings,
fresh starts, a chance at a do-over?
We're
halfway through Lent; beginning that slide down to Palm Sunday, Holy Week, and
then Easter. We've been asking those questions about what we really believe,
whose we really are, and how we respond to God--and whether we need to change
any of that. Today we are looking at what that might look like.
Malala,
although a teenager, has already learned a valuable lesson. Hatred solves
nothing--it only makes us like those we hate. It doesn't bring peace or an end
to violence, it doesn't resolve differences in politics, religion, or even in
the family. And so she lets go of that hatred and anger, recognizing that,
difficult as it is to let go of it, that hatred solves nothing. Only by caring
for those who would hurt her as much as she cares for herself can she rise
above the hatred. "Love those that hate you." Now who said that?
Joshua is
not a book we often read in the course of the lectionary cycle, but there is
some interesting stuff in there! And this is one of those passages. The Hebrews
are letting go of what bound then to the past. They have been forgiven for
their doubts on the long journey to the Promised Land, and as a sign, no longer
are living on the manna from heaven, but only on the produce of their new land.
It is now their land and they are farming it, keeping sheep and growing crops,
planting vineyards and building homes. They have settled into a new place. They
are finally starting over.
And so
the the son and the father. The son realizes his error, and returned home. he
is not looking to regain his former place; he knows the enormity of his
mistake--anticipating his father's death, taking the money, and then wasting
it. He didn't even invest it--just spent it "in riotous living," as
the King James translation says. The older brother claims it was spent on
prostitutes, but how he knew that is a mystery. At any rate, it's all gone, and
so the younger brother returns home.
Robert
Frost once said, "Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they
have to take you in." Which is a bit cynical, but also true. And so the
younger son goes home--not in the expectation that everything will be as it
was--he is willing to be a servant, just as long as he has a place to live and
food to eat. Maybe he does think that he father will be lenient to him--after
all, his father did give him they money he asked for, so he seems to be a bit
indulgent--but he can't know that. And he isn't planning to ask for that, even
if he hopes for it.
And he
receives it. He is given a fresh start, a new beginning--a nice new clean robe,
sandals for his bare feet, even a ring to wear--they start a party, with great
food, and music and dancing, just because he is back home.
Now, the
older brother is not happy about it all. And I think all of us have felt is was
a little unfair of the father to throw this wild party for the return of the
younger brother when the older brother, who had been dutiful and worked hard,
never got any recognition. Especially those of us who have younger siblings who
got privileges we didn't or got them earlier than we did, or, heaven forbid, at
the same time we did. I remember resenting it mightily that my younger sister
got her ears pierced at the same time I did. It seems silly now, but at the
time, I felt it took something away from me, as the older sister.
But the
father points out that the older brother has it backwards. He reminds him that
everything the father has now belongs to him--the older brother--because the
younger brother got his share, even if he wasted it. And besides, this is his
brother--isn't he glad he's come home safe? I can easily imagine the father
suggesting a new beginning-wipe the slate clean between the two brothers and
start over.
Have you,
in your Lenten thinking and journeying and questioning, been feeling the need
for a new start? What better time than Easter, the day of Resurrection, the day
of dying to the old and rising to the new? What do you need to let go of? What
anger or hatred or foolish mistakes have you
made or that others have made do you need to relinquish in order to
celebrate a new beginning?
My
friends, take this opportunity for Easter rebirth; let go of the mistakes and
pain of the past. Forgive where it is needed--whether yourself or others, let
go of the resentment or anger. Start anew, grasp this new beginning offered to
you, take it in both hands and celebrate starting over. In all God's names,
amen.
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