This afternoon I have been doing my background reading for the last of my three re-visits to well-loved tales from the gospels.  This Sunday we will be looking at the series of three 'lost and found' parables in Luke 15.  Reading them through I was struck very clearly that they are not 'of a piece', the first two, lost sheep and lost coins, operate very differently from the third, often termed 'the prodigal son'.  I had a few ideas of what I might play with arising from it and decided to check the commentaries I have both on Luke and on parables.  Alas or hurray, not sure which, all my ideas had already been had by other people, along with several others.  A key one is that actually this is a story of two sons... 'a man had two sons...' which is pretty obvious when you actually spot it.  I had thought of trying to retell the story from the viewpoint of the elder son because he represents the religious orthodoxy which is, whether we like it or not, what we are as part of the church.  I was going to try to allow him to speak, to justify his anger and then to invite the congrgeation to decide 'what happened next.'  But now I'm not so sure whether that would work.

Instead I am wondering about writing the mother's version - watching her family tear itself apart, sharing her husband's pain and loss, longing for reconciliation between her loyal, obedient but rather bitter and legalistic elder son and his wayward, impetuous but ultimately repentant younger brother.  The tricky bit is of course that the allegorical aspect doesn't then work - if the father is God, the younger son the 'sinners' and the elder son the religious establishment there is no role for the mother to take.  But then part of the beauty of parables is their inherent ambiguity and the impermanence of any interpretation.

If this doesn't work then maybe I'll resort to a normal sermon!

In the last couple of days people have asked me for two lists which they seem to think I maintain - the Girls' Brigade membership list at D+2 and the church membership list at Dibley.  I have now supplied said lists to those requesting them.  Interesting, in updating and handing them over, to reflect on how many poeple I've had contact with these past few years (hundreds though not all on either list) and to wonder what impact on their relationship with God knowing me has had (ulp!).  These people are all part of my history and I part of theirs even if no one ever knows our names and we forget each other.  It reminds me of something that I am told Bonhoeffer said that is important and runs along the lines of 'it doens't matter if our names our recorded in the history books, what matters is that our names are written in the Lamb's book of life.'  I think he's right, and somehow in this statement an appropriate humility is balanced by the assurance of our infinite worth in the eyes of God.

Maybe some Bonhoeffer scholar can give me an exact quote and source?