We human beings
have a rather remarkable capacity
for self-deception,
a capacity to willfully overlook truths
about ourselves and our situation,
truths that by all rights should be quite clear to us.
I think of myself as a kind and generous person,
always willing to help out and volunteer,
while somehow not noticing the way in which
I neglect my spouse and children.
I believe that others have succeeded more than I
because of favoritism and backroom dealings,
when in fact they are just better at their jobs.
I tell myself that I am a social media edgelord
unmasking hypocrisy and subverting paradigms,
when actually I’m just a jerk and a bully
spouting off on Twitter.
Truths about ourselves
and our place in the world,
are denied and deflected,
often through strenuous effort.
The truth lies before us,
and we choose not to see it.
We are not the people
we think ourselves to be.
have a rather remarkable capacity
for self-deception,
a capacity to willfully overlook truths
about ourselves and our situation,
truths that by all rights should be quite clear to us.
I think of myself as a kind and generous person,
always willing to help out and volunteer,
while somehow not noticing the way in which
I neglect my spouse and children.
I believe that others have succeeded more than I
because of favoritism and backroom dealings,
when in fact they are just better at their jobs.
I tell myself that I am a social media edgelord
unmasking hypocrisy and subverting paradigms,
when actually I’m just a jerk and a bully
spouting off on Twitter.
Truths about ourselves
and our place in the world,
are denied and deflected,
often through strenuous effort.
The truth lies before us,
and we choose not to see it.
We are not the people
we think ourselves to be.
Self-deception not only pervades our world;
it pervades our Gospel reading today as well.
We see it at work
in the younger brother,
who desires independence so much
that he drastically misjudges
his capacity for “adulting,”
as they call it these days,
and seems also to believe
that his inheritance is limitless,
though a little basic math
might suggest that it is not.
We see it in the older brother as well,
who is convinced that he is a dutiful son,
showing true love and respect for his father,
when in fact he is seething with resentment,
not simply toward his brother,
but toward his father as well,
whom he seems to have served out of hope for gain
rather than true devotion and affection.
The truth lies before them,
and they choose not to see it.
They are not the people
they think themselves to be.
Self-deception is a funny thing.
It is different from being ignorant or misled.
It is not a lack of information about ourselves,
since the truth about ourselves is readily available
and often perceived, and commented upon, by others.
It is also different from being lied to,
because in self-deception,
we are both the one deceived
and the deceiver.
We willfully mislead ourselves,
which is quite the trick
when you think about it,
since it seems to involve
both knowing and not knowing
what it is we are doing,
both seeing and not seeing
the truth we are avoiding.
We deceive ourselves by focusing
on one truth about ourselves,
and letting the other truths
that make up the total picture
fade into a kind of blurry background.
I focus on my immediate desires
and my grandiose dreams
in order to overlook
my limited skills and resources.
I keep in the front of my mind
years of dutiful service and obedience,
to divert myself
from the anger and resentment
that seethe within me.
Self-deception requires us to simplify the world,
to avoid seeing reality in all its complexity,
in order to avoid hard and painful truths.
It might seem like an effective coping strategy,
but it requires an immense outlay
of psychological effort:
it exhausts us,
and diminishes us,
and deadens our lives.
Plus, reality has a way of catching up with us.
Like the way that famine in the land
left the younger brother hungry and penniless,
looking longingly at the food of pigs.
Our Gospel translation says that “he came to his senses”—
the original Greek says literally “he came to himself.”
His eyes were opened to the truth of himself,
the truth of his situation.
He encountered reality,
and reality was merciless in its truth telling
and humbling in its mercilessness.
to avoid seeing reality in all its complexity,
in order to avoid hard and painful truths.
It might seem like an effective coping strategy,
but it requires an immense outlay
of psychological effort:
it exhausts us,
and diminishes us,
and deadens our lives.
Plus, reality has a way of catching up with us.
Like the way that famine in the land
left the younger brother hungry and penniless,
looking longingly at the food of pigs.
Our Gospel translation says that “he came to his senses”—
the original Greek says literally “he came to himself.”
His eyes were opened to the truth of himself,
the truth of his situation.
He encountered reality,
and reality was merciless in its truth telling
and humbling in its mercilessness.
We deceive ourselves
because we fear the truth about ourselves.
We fear that if we let reality come into focus
we will not be able to carry on
in the face of that merciless reality,
that we will see ourselves revealed
as unlovely and unlovable.
But the parable of the prodigal son,
is not simply a story
of being humbled by merciless reality.
It is the story of the merciful God,
who rejoices that
we who lay dead in self-deception
have come to life again,
we who were lost in lies
have been found by the truth.
because we fear the truth about ourselves.
We fear that if we let reality come into focus
we will not be able to carry on
in the face of that merciless reality,
that we will see ourselves revealed
as unlovely and unlovable.
But the parable of the prodigal son,
is not simply a story
of being humbled by merciless reality.
It is the story of the merciful God,
who rejoices that
we who lay dead in self-deception
have come to life again,
we who were lost in lies
have been found by the truth.
For, in the end, to be found by truth
is not to be subjected to merciless reality;
it is to be found by the God
who came to dwell among us in Christ,
who is the way, the truth, and the life.
The face of reality is the face of Jesus Christ,
and the deepest truth about ourselves
is that we are children of a loving father,
a father who runs out to embrace us
when our illusions collapse
and we see ourselves as we really are.
The reality of our situation
is that even as we seethe with anger and resentment
God seeks us out and invites us to join the banquet.
God calls us out of self-deception
not simply to humble us—
though learning humility is a part of it—
but so that we might come to see,
as the two brothers in the parable
must come to see,
that we are beloved,
that we are embraced,
that we are invited to the banquet of life
prepared for us from all eternity.
God calls us out of deception and into reality
so that God who is merciful
might have mercy on us all.
is not to be subjected to merciless reality;
it is to be found by the God
who came to dwell among us in Christ,
who is the way, the truth, and the life.
The face of reality is the face of Jesus Christ,
and the deepest truth about ourselves
is that we are children of a loving father,
a father who runs out to embrace us
when our illusions collapse
and we see ourselves as we really are.
The reality of our situation
is that even as we seethe with anger and resentment
God seeks us out and invites us to join the banquet.
God calls us out of self-deception
not simply to humble us—
though learning humility is a part of it—
but so that we might come to see,
as the two brothers in the parable
must come to see,
that we are beloved,
that we are embraced,
that we are invited to the banquet of life
prepared for us from all eternity.
God calls us out of deception and into reality
so that God who is merciful
might have mercy on us all.
