Lent 4

You’ve seen guys at the mall and in other public places dressed in them. They’re usually regular pants, though often they seem cut for someone of larger girth than the wearer. But instead of pulling them all the way up, these gentlemen wear them some four to six inches below their waistline, often without benefit of a belt. Typically, these groupies of the hip-hop world have on a pair of colorful boxer shorts underneath the dipping denims, and — gratefully — these are worn at the standard height.

Thus, those of us who see these characters are treated to what seems like a billboard-sized view of their posterior swathed in plaid, checked or paisley underwear. Low-riding, oversized trousers have become popular among hip-hop performers, alternative music groups and certain other groups thanks to the beltless jeans prisoners often have to wear, making such pants part of a tough-guy mystique.

Tough guy or not, however, when a wearer of such garb walks down the street in front of me, my first thought is, “What keeps his pants from falling down?” Not much, it turns out.

Police all over the country say that it is getting easier to catch young, male suspects when in foot pursuit because, in many cases, the suspects’ pants fall down.

Consider the case of Noah Donell Brown of Hendersonville, North Carolina. This 24-year-old would-be criminal tried to leap over the counter of a sandwich shop while attempting to rob the place, but thanks to his bebop-baggy pants, he stumbled and fell flat in front of the store employees he’d been waving a gun at.

At that point, Mr. Brown thought better of the robbery idea and fled the store, heading for a nearby neighborhood. Police didn’t have much difficulty catching up with him, however. He had tried to climb over someone’s fence, but his loose Levi’s got hung up on the pickets. When the police arrived, they found Brown dangling upside down, his dungarees around his ankles, binding him to the fence. The officers had to use a knife to cut him free.

Of the incident, the police chief commented, “He was wearing underwear, thank goodness.”

The fad of wearing pants big and low has been around for only a decade or two, but even the Bible has a story that fits into the same genre as the account of Noah Brown’s debacle. It’s one of Jesus’ parables. Here it is, slightly updated:

There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, “Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.” So the father divided his property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and stuffed it into the pockets of his cargo pants. He then traveled to a distant country where the weight in his pockets kept dragging his pants down, and tripping him up, until finally, he was left in just his underwear, with his money all gone.

After trying unsuccessfully in that condition to earn enough to buy food, he was desperately hungry and felt totally abandoned.

Isn’t that like the problem we have when, grabbing for the gusto, we walk away from any place where we’ve been truly loved and which we now want to leave behind? Somehow, it’s impossible to leave such a place without the weight of guilt and bad choices filling the pockets of our pants. The farther away we go, the heavier those ill-informed choices become, and the greater the consequences, and soon our drawers droop and drop us before we can make good our escape. The weight of our own stupidity can feel like the weight of the world in our pockets, dragging down the fancy pants in which we are arrayed and exposing us as the misguided fools we’ve become.

There are consequences in life, you know. Sometimes we don’t want to face that truth about God. We want God to be like an indulgent parent following behind us, cleaning up our messes. We want a soft, flabby God, created in our image who will somehow deliver us from our own misdoing. 

Businessman Harold Geneen had always been something of an enigma. Long after he had been running International Telephone & Telegraph (ITT), he remained a mystery man to such an extent that the press often misprinted his name as Geheen or Green. People in his own company were not even certain how to pronounce his name. There was a joke about it inside ITT: “Is the g hard as in God, or soft as in Jesus?” 

That is a contrast that many of us make in our own minds: hard as in God or soft as in Jesus.  Jesus showed us a God who was like a loving Father. But Jesus did not rescind the law of consequences. As one cynic has put it, “Some of us want to sow our wild oats and then pray for a crop failure.”

The prodigal son abused his freedom. He squandered his wealth and was reduced to feeding swine. For the Jews, pigs were unclean. How could a nice Jewish boy fall much lower than feeding pigs? The Bible says that the young man gladly would have eaten the pods that he fed to the pigs. 

But one day he came to himself. What a great statement! He came to himself. He wasn’t a pig. He was a boy. He wasn’t a swine but a son. Even the servants in his father’s house had plenty to eat and a warm place to sleep. What was he doing in a pigpen? The young man came to himself and he started home. Listen to the rest of the story:

So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. Then the son said to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” But the father said to his slaves, “Quickly, bring out a fresh pair of pants — the best ones — and put them on him; put a ring on his finger and Nikes on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!” And they began to celebrate.

The Father welcomed him back unconditionally. He said to his servants, “Bring quickly the best robe and put it on him…” The robe was a symbol of honor. “Put a ring on his hand…” The ring was a symbol of authority. “Put shoes on his feet…” Slaves went barefoot; sons wore shoes. “Kill the fatted calf…”

In the ancient world there was no possibility of preserving meat. When guests came, an animal was killed for the guests to eat. If one family came, it would be appropriate to kill a chicken or perhaps a pigeon. If two families came, it might be a duck or a goose. If more came, it would be a goat or a lamb. The killing of a fatted calf was done only if the entire village was invited. So, this was indeed an event of great importance. 

There was an even further significance in this killing of the fatted calf. The actual slaughter of the animal would take place in front of the doorway. When the guests would step across the blood of the animal that had been slain, it was a sign that the past had been left behind, that there was a new covenant or new relationship between the host and the guest. As the son then stepped over the blood of the animal that had been slain, it was a sign of his father’s total and complete acceptance and forgiveness. The father welcomed him back unconditionally.

The boy didn’t deserve that kind of reception, did he? Many who heard Jesus tell this story were surely offended that a boy who treated his father so badly should get off scot-free. Their discomfort is reflected in the envy of the elder brother. He had stayed home all these years, and the father had never killed the fatted calf for him. It wasn’t fair. 

Paul Tournier, the Swiss psychiatrist and theologian, emphasizes that Christianity is the only religion in the world which says that God loves the unrighteous more than the righteous. How unfair can God be?  But listen. There’s a reason. If you or I could stay home in the Father’s house and keep all the rules and obey all the laws, we might have the idea that we somehow deserved the Father’s favor.

Even worse, like the Pharisees, we might get the idea that we were morally and spiritually superior to the rest of God’s children. We wouldn’t hear the Gospel that we are all sinners saved by grace. Our virtue would be in vain, for we would trust in our own strong willpower rather than in the mercy of the Father. But there’s one thing the Father rejoices in more than virtue. And that is faith. 

Why? Because faith produces virtue, not vice versa.

Grace is about love that is more interested in redemption than judgement. Most of the problems in this world are caused by people who do not really know that they are loved and accepted.  How about you? Is there a need in your life to come home? But I’m not good enough, some would say. That’s the whole point. None of us are, no matter how faithfully we have stayed in the Father’s house. Thank God, we don’t have to be.

The Father loves us enough to let go. We are free to choose our own paths. The Father patiently waits for us to decide. He will not force His way into our lives. But there is unconditional love – unconditional acceptance – awaiting our decision. Earthly fathers may be tempted to kill the prodigal son, but our Heavenly Father kills the fatted calf.