03-14-2010
Sermon for 3-14-10
While I was growing up, I was a bit hard of hearing… Like when my mom would ask me to vacuum the house; Or when my dad asked me to wash the cars.
And, sometimes I couldn’t quite hear it when my sister begged me please, to borrow some music… And so I’d say, I’m sorry, your going to do what for me in return- it’s hard to hear you- speak up? Sound Familiar???
Unfortunately, as today’s Gospel story points out, being hard of hearing isn’t just a joke for kids acting selfish; but as a person matures, being hard of hearing can turn into something much more serious- being hard of heart; especially when it comes to forgiveness and family. For some families, the hardest thing to hear each other say, is what comes straight from the heart, and that is their love for each-other; and for some families, hearts have already hardened too much- miracles need to occur.
There are all kinds of families, and certainly the one in today’s parable isn’t ideal: in fact, it seems to be missing a mother… but other factors have upset it also, to the point where 2 sons are caring more about their… inheritance …than their parents.
In response, “The temptation a parent faces is to allow the child’s separation to become reciprocal. If the child separates from the parent, the parent may be tempted to respond in kind.” (NIB) This is the danger of becoming hard-hearted because someone else was hard-hearted or back to the metaphor… hard of hearing: hearing they are loved, hearing they are welcome, forgiven, or more. However, even if a person refuses to hear our Father God, God is still good hearted, creating the best return for us, patiently lifting our spirits up when we were down and out.
Now, let me tell you a family story of my own… During my first years of community college, while still mostly living at my parents home in Newbury Park, life in my family changed forever, quite drastically. My brother Steve, was already out of the house off at the University of California, Davis. He was, and still is, an intellectual powerhouse of a brain, but then, while cramming 26 units of Junior Year advanced Bio-Chemistry, suddenly something went wrong, something went horribly wrong.
And then, unexpectedly, my parents were at UC Davis packing my brothers things, bringing him, and everything, back home. He had a breakdown, an mental, emotional, spiritual breakdown that started in his brain and for years after sent my brother back and forth from Psycho-Therapists diagnosing him with Schizophrenic-Affective Disorder.
At the time, I was basically living at home; I was managing Holiday Inn nightshifts, producing underground rave clubs, and cruising through part-time community college; basically staying away from the family home as much as possible; trying not to think that my brother was really going crazy, literally crazy- that word, that I’ve tried to use carefully ever since.
My Parents quietly adjusted over the next few months, spending through retirement savings on missed therapist appointments and on drug therapies that my brother refused to take. One book said… his refusals were actually a symptom of the disorder- to refuse help is in fact to become hard-hearted, he refused hearing of any help, and refusing to hear our love and compassion; and instead hardened inside with real paranoid fears and drastic anger.
Mom and Dad bought books and downloaded every document on the internet trying to figure out how to heal a Schizophrenic-Affective Disorder. My sister Joyce and brother Dave kept their distance by living elsewhere…
My parent’s son had returned, after years away, but his was far from a celebration.
It wasn’t half the land- like the parable, but they did refinance the family home.
Thank God though, it was the first time in life that I saw my father with loving tears.
About a year into this illness in our family, Steve was becoming more and more paranoid, thinking that everyone, even us- his brother and parents, wanted to hurt him somehow. Then he would panic; once even pushing me through the second story bedroom window.
More often he would verbally lash out at all our family, neighbors, everyone- it really was a lot like the demon-troubled souls and legions that Jesus encountered. About three years into it, my mother had heard enough from him. It was a tipping point. She had already absorbed years of so much abuse from Steve’s-troubled mind,
that she on one afternoon asked me what I would think if– we just locked him out of the house, forcing him to leave who knows where, hopefully arrested and then forced into treatment.
As the observer of the Gospel parable noted, “The temptation a parent faces is to allow the child’s separation to become reciprocal. If the child separates from the parent, the parent may be tempted to respond in kind.” This is the temptation towards being hard-hearted. The same temptation goes for brothers. But, what does the Lord’s Prayer say again- “and lead us not into temptation”, Lord. With God’s heart, fortunately, my parents responded with a well of spiritual resilience.
Soon after, I left the house for Northern California and graduated from Humboldt State University. With a year before seminary, I moved back to Southern California, working for a Christian Radio Station and a pizza place.
Steve however, was still paranoid in his corner room at my parents; so I stayed there only on Saturday nights for Sunday morning service.
The next year though, as I began attending seminary in Claremont, I stayed my first year living with my grandparents in Glendale. Steve finally started committing himself to forms of therapy, and then returned to school at CSUN.
Soon, Steve was no longer living at my parents. And now it’s been another 10 years, and now Steve has two Master’s degrees, one in Film and one in Biology; he’s now with a loving wife and Baby Peter. So far- even with all the ups and downs, the inflation in home prices has made up for what my parents spent towards Steve’s recovery, and my undergraduate rent.
My parents are still merciful, now caring for 99year old Grandma at the old family home; even as my 92 year old Grandpa is having his own mental-physical-Spiritual breakdowns threatening the family with guns, until the police came and finally took them.
In my family, I can’t tell you that in the future everything is going to work out perfect. In fact, the parable doesn’t tell the end of the story either.
But the parable does pause to end the way I will also…
“Celebrate and rejoice, because this brother… was dead and has come back to life; he was lost and has been found.” (Luke 15:32, Jude 2)
And that goes for Steve, and this brother (myself) too…
Found by God…Loved through our parents.
May mercy, peace, and love be yours in God. Amen.
