God is a loony dad (or mom)

by Kari Henkelmann Keyl

It’s no secret that parents sometimes do crazy things, embarrassing things that send their own children into near panic-attacks. Often those loony things are done due to loony-level love, a love so deep and fervent that it loses sight of what the rest of the world deems appropriate.

When Sandra Bullock  accepted her Academy Award last Sunday night, she gave a prize part of her “I’d like to thank…” speech to some such crazily loving people. She thanked those whom she said her film about a risky adoption,The Blind Side, was all about: “those moms that take care of the babies and the children no matter where they come from”.

She then went on to thank her own mother who taught her “there is no race, no religion, no class system, no color, nothing, no sexual orientation that makes us better than anyone else. We are all deserving of love.”

That assertion that we are all deserving of love does not seem so terribly unusual. But actually living out that claim can easily take us into the quite counter-cultural.

Here enters our counter-cultural, crazily-loving God.

In last week’s blog, Heidi referenced a Boston Globe op-ed piece by James Carroll who amazingly has managed to get some pretty good theology into a newspaper. A few of his powerful words have been echoing in my brain ever since: “God is not an executioner,” he writes, adding: “God is not a nanny either.” I couldn’t agree more. But if God does not fit the common stereotype, the one who tempers life’s chaos by disciplining the bad and coddling the good, then who is God?

I’m pretty sure that this is just the kind of question that would have made the eyes of Jesus shine bright with eagerness-to-respond. And you can bet that he wouldn’t give a treatise on the topic. He’d tell a story. A story like this one:  Luke 15:11-32.

Now it would be all too easy to see this as a tame story about a naturally kind and welcoming God. After all, how unusual is it for an adult child to return to the homestead after finding it impossible to make it on his or her own? Not very. And plenty of parents are opening their arms to welcome their children home… because it makes good economic sense, and because the parents love their kids enough to put up with the inconvenience.

But back in Jesus’ time, this story would have had much more bite. Just the thought of a son abandoning his father’s land and wasting a slice of the family fortune on a fling... would have deeply enraged the listeners. Such humiliation this father would face in his community! And honor was not a luxury; it was a matter of life and death. Live honorably and you have the protection of the clan. To break the rules of honor is to risk living separately and dangerously. The only way he could even partially claim back his honor would be to declare his wayward son to be dead and gone.

When the son comes home in desperation, the father does the impossibly crazy thing. What he should do is look the other way and say, “You are not my son; my son is dead.” But this dad is so wildly in love with his wild son that he risks everything to sew back up what has been torn apart. He runs out to meet his son, an extremely shameful thing for an elder to do, probably racing to save his child from the angry mob of folks who would lynch the wicked kid in a heartbeat.

This loony dad does so much more than that. His joy at seeing his lost son spills out all over the place. The fact that he chooses barbecued beef for the welcome-home party means that he intends to bring the entire community together, eating the best meat, drinking the finest wine, having a blast. The only ticket you need to get into this rocking feast is the ability to embrace this crazy guy’s outrageously-forgiving, passionately-reconciling way of loving.

So… do you think this crazy parent would actually get people to come to the feast or would they just lynch the father and son together? In Jesus’ story, the music and dancing invites all to come in, even the resistant older brother. But in Jesus’ life, it’s a different story. As Jesus invites all to come into the party of God’s generous love that knows no boundary lines… he must truly put his own life on the line to give that love.

What would it mean for us to take this risky, boundary-less love into our lives? What grudges would we feel compelled to give up? What prejudices would start to melt? What healing of relationships might be born? What self-hatred could be disarmed and forgiven?

So what you’re saying, Jesus, is that God is a loony parent, right? One that will always mess up our categories of what is appropriate and expected.  God runs toward us to forgive and heal us, even when we are running away. God adopts us into the family no matter where we come from, and in the joy of that love we do the same for others. God is so determined to bring together all of God’s children that God will do anything to draw us close… close to God’s heart… and close to one another.

Feel free to jot your thoughts down in our comments and/or join in our audio skype conversation 7pm (EST) on Thursday, March 11, when we'll dig into this some more.  (If you're new to this, create a skype identity and contact bythewaycommunity). 
For more reading on the power of this story in Jesus' culture and in our time as well, check out  "The Parable of the Dysfunctional Family"  by Barbara Brown Taylor. It is an amazing read.

If quiet contemplation's what you're after, here's a song (sung by Amy Grant) to get you thinking/feeling about coming home to the God who waits for you, called Softly and Tenderly.