At Easter this year, we cannot forget those around our nation who have no opportunity to celebrate: those who have lost loved ones, those who have lost homes, those whose communities are isolated, and those whose livelihoods are threatened by the destruction of land and roading caused by Cyclone Gabrielle and other recent storms. For them, the grief, shock and worry may remove all possibility of enjoying this holiday season. One phrase that has stuck out in the news reporting of these weather disasters is “irreparable damage”. It is confronting to see pictures of roads and houses that are so damaged that it will never be technically or financially practical to repair them – they are broken forever.
Of course, it is not just roads and houses that can be irreparably damaged. We sense that our nation is becoming more polarised. Think of the divisions between Māori and non-Māori, left and right, believer and atheist, landlord and tenant, rich and poor, vaccinated and unvaccinated, and young and old, and the list of what can divide only grows. Such divisions seem to have widened and intensified in recent years to the point where family relationships are becoming fractured. It is not hard to point the finger at social media and the communal and personal stress of the pandemic but that does nothing to solve the problems between us. These painful disagreements have split households, friendships and churches in ways that, a few years ago, would not have been deemed to be irreparable.
There is an old story about an irreparably damaged relationship. In a non-Western culture, where family was everything and parents were to be honoured at all times, a young man demanded his share of his (still living) father’s inheritance and went off on his OE to spend it all on partying. Then, when the economy crashed in a famine and he was starving, he decided as a last resort to return to his father’s home and beg for a minimum-wage position in the family business. The problem with telling this story is that many know how it ends (see the Gospel of Luke, chapter 15). Against all expectations, the father, instead of scolding or rejecting his son, ran out and met him halfway with a huge hug and then threw a no-expense-spared party to celebrate his return. What was expected to be an irreparable rift was repaired when both sides moved towards the other.
The father in the story represents God. The son stands for those who have wandered away from God and who are, thereby, assured of a warm welcome if they come home. But there is a third character in the story: an older brother who is not impressed with the younger brother’s return or the father’s welcome. He remains stubbornly outside, refusing to join the party. So, the story assures us all of God’s welcome but also contrasts the two possible responses to those who have broken relationships. Both the father and the older brother know the younger son has broken the relationship, wasted the inheritance, dishonoured his father and abandoned his family. They know his “sin”. But the older brother sees only the sin while the father looks past the sin and sees his beloved son.
This story of the wayward younger brother coming home was told by Jesus on his way to Jerusalem. In Jerusalem, he would be placed on trial by religious authorities and then sentenced and executed – essentially for political reasons – by the Roman imperial authorities. As Jesus was being crucified, he looked at those killing him and prayed for God to forgive them (Luke 23: 34). Even in his own agony, he saw the person first and not the sin they were committing against him.
