Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Fourth Sunday in Lent

In this morning’s Gospel Jesus tells the parable that is commonly known as the story of the prodigal son. The term “prodigal” is defined as “being wastefully or recklessly extravagant.

I think that a more appropriate title for this story would be “the prodigal father,” as, from our perspective, I think it is the father who acts in a most extravagant manner.

The two sons in this story represent two rather typical ways that most people respond to treasures entrusted into their care. It is the classic distinction between those who see a half glass of water as either being half full or half empty. One of these brothers is an incurable optimist. The other is a stubborn pessimist.

One way to define a pessimist is to imagine that a child is placed in a room full of toys, and after an hour, is found sitting in a corner, not having touched one of the toys. When asked why he refused to play with them, he responds, “I knew I’d just break them.” A definition of an optimist would be to put another child in a room full of horse manure, and when you came back in an hour, you’d find the child digging like crazy. When you asked why he is digging, his response would be, “Well, with all this manure, I just know there’s a pony in here somewhere!”

I think that there are times when it is appropriate to be optimistic, but there are also times when it is prudent to be a bit pessimistic as well. In this morning’s Gospel the two brothers represent the extremes of these two perspectives. One is a foolish optimist. The other is a joyless pessimist.

The issue is their inheritance; the wealth they will receive from their father. One demands it, and then squanders it. The other accuses his father of wasting it on his worthless brother.

These two brothers are not that unusual. We probably all know someone who has come into an inheritance and managed to spend every penny in a short time. And we also probably know those who most likely still own the first nickel they ever earned.

Note that both of these sons are stewards, not the owners, of this wealth. Their inheritance was the result of their father’s labor. Being good stewards, caretakers of that entrusted to us by another, requires a mixture of optimism; the willingness to invest in the future, and pessimism, the wisdom to not invest foolishly.

What is reckless, and even extravagant, is the response of the father to both of his sons. He greets the one who has squandered his inheritance with joy, and throws a party to celebrate his homecoming. In response to his angry elder son, he invites him to set aside his preoccupation of what is fair and what is not, and join in the party.

The reckless extravagance of the father has nothing to do with the inheritance of material wealth. It is about what is lost being found. It is all about his love for his sons. It is about his relationship with his sons. It is about grace, the unmerited favor a father offered to his sons.

It is with this same grace, this same unmerited favor, that God responds to each of us. It doesn’t matter if we are inclined to be optimistic or pessimistic, a squanderer or a hoarder; God wants us all to come home and join the party.

In his book, A Passion for Pilgrimage, Dean Alan Jones offers these words about homecoming:

The Great Memory is simply this; God has fallen in love with you and wants you to come home! Our first memory is God's love for us, and it is this memory that has been buried and repressed. Your first memory (if only you could get back to it) is that of being God's joy and delight. Why is it difficult to remember the joy of our beginnings in the heart of God? I wonder if it has something to do with our unwillingness to face the fact of our limited future? Memory and hope are intimately related. Perhaps we cannot recall the love that brought us into being in the first place, because we cannot imagine a love strong enough to pull us through the gates of death. I refuse to remember, because I dare not hope. I refuse to remember and I dare not hope, because I am frightened and angry because I will have to change.

God is madly, head over heals in love with each and every one of us. And, as the people of God, it is with this same passionate love that we are called to greet every person who walks through our doors. It doesn’t matter if we think they are worthy. It doesn’t matter where they have come from. We rejoice that one who was lost has once again returned to the family of God, and we invite them to join in the celebration.

We who are already members of the church might consider ourselves in the role of the eldest son. Our culture would the younger son who has left home. The biggest challenge in this story is for the eldest son to accept the prodigal grace, the recklessly extravagant grace, of God. Our challenge is to accept that those who are new to the kingdom of God are seen as equals in God’s eyes with those of us who have worked in the kingdom for most of our lives. There is no pecking order in God’s kingdom. And that doesn’t seem fair, does it? It’s not. God’s free gift of grace is not fair. It is freely given to all.

During this season of Lent, let us seek to return to God, and rejoice with the heavenly hosts when those who once were without hope experience the depth of God’s love. This parable has no ending. We are not told how the older brother responds to his father’s invitation to join the party. The celebration pauses as the guests await the brother’s response, and our response as well. This morning God asks each of us what we will do in response to God’s recklessly extravagant grace.

May we observe a holy Lent, resulting in abundant Easter joy.

Sunday, March 04, 2007

Second Sunday in Lent

Last week, we talked about temptation and personal sin. I mentioned that a good way to think about sin is to consider it as “twisted good.” Sin is a symptom of a spiritual dis-ease. The cure is to repent, to recognize that we have somehow allowed our focus to be turned to something else and to reorient our lives so that our focus is back on God. With God’s help, we can return to the good root.

That is an important part of what we do during the season of Lent. We seek out the sin in our lives, confess it, amend our lives, and turn our eyes once again toward God. That’s part of what we are called to do during this season, but that’s not the end of it. We don’t live in a vacuum. Our personal repentance is the beginning of our Lenten journey. Now we must look beyond ourselves. We look for the need for our larger community to repent and return to the Lord.

To some degree, cleaning up our personal lives is the easy part. Going out into the world with a message of repentance is a lot harder. But, unfortunately, if we are to be followers of Jesus Christ, I don’t think we have a choice.

In this morning’s Gospel, Jesus is warned that Herod is going to kill him. He does not waiver in his mission. He sets his face toward Jerusalem, and the cross. Neither can we hesitate when it comes to proclaiming the message of Christ to the world outside these walls.

The mission of the Church is to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ. To Restore All People. We are Christians not only for our own sakes, but for the sake of the world.

It seems to me that one of the primary roles of any congregation is to "equip the saints for ministry." To some degree, we offer worship and Christian Education opportunities to prepare us for the work God has set before us. But so many times there seems to be a lot of equipping going on, but not a whole lot of ministry. It's as if sometimes we feel that we're not quite ready -- one more class, one more experience of the living God, or one more prayer, and then (and only then!) we'll go out into the world and proclaim the Good News.

In the Gospel According to Mark we hear of John the Baptizer boldly proclaiming repentance and forgiveness through Baptism. We hear also of John's confronting King Herod. I would imagine that more than a few of John's followers gulped hard before accompanying him. But John and his followers continued in their prophetic preaching, and their ministries were blessed by God.

We have been called to go forth into the world and bear witness to the healing power of God's love. Inspired by the prophetic ministries of the Old Testament prophets, John and Jesus, we bear witness in word and deed. And we always remember that with each step of the way, we will find Christ in our midst, who breathes the Spirit upon all disciples. That is all we need. We are ready for this mission, whether we know it or not. What are we waiting for?

Amidst the struggles that the Church faces today, there will be times as we venture out into the world when we are called to prophetic ministry. We must put our hope in Christ, and not shy away from this calling.

We are called to prophetic action. We are called to be the John the Baptists of the world, proclaiming the message, “Repent! For the kingdom of God is at hand!”

The image of John the Baptist may make some of us a bit uncomfortable. He is depicted in scripture as being a hard, angry man, usually delivering his message stridently. And maybe we have good reasons to question if such a strident way of proclaiming our message would be well received outside these walls.

Maybe there’s another way to express our prophetic role. Let’s return to the example of Jesus in this morning’s Gospel. Consider his response to Jerusalem, the beloved center of the world for all Israelites:"Jerusalem, Jerusalem," he says, "how often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!"

Jesus knows that he is going to Jerusalem, and will be will be rejected by the people. He knows what he is going to face there, that he will be arrested, suffer and be executed by his enemies. And yet, he weeps, not for himself but for the very people who will reject him. His heart breaks because he cares for them. He is willing to do whatever it takes to gather them under God’s wings. He weeps over Jerusalem, and all of humanity, because he has the heart of God. And God cares.

Those who follow Jesus, follow his example. At the root of the ministry of Jesus is love. And so, at the root of our message to the world must be God’s love. Two men were sitting at lunch one day when the topic of church came up. The first said that his congregation had a new preacher.

"What happened to the old one?" his friend asked.

"We didn’t much care for him, so he left."

"What didn’t you like about him?"

"It was his preaching," the man said. "He kept telling us we are sinners and that if we didn’t repent we would face the judgment of God."

"Oh," the second man said. "So what does the new one preach?"

"He tells us that we’re sinners and that if we don’t repent we will face the judgment of God."

The second man looked a little confused. "I don’t understand," he said. "What’s the difference?"

"The new one," his friend noted, "has tears in his eyes when he says it."

What was the difference between the two? The new one cared. The plight of people mattered enough for him to weep over their place before God.

Writing in a journal on ministry, William Easum once asked, "When was the last time your church leaders wept over the plight of your city instead of worrying about paying the bills?"

It is a good question isn’t it?

When was the last time we wept for the homeless men and women who live in camps just outside of our towns?

When was the last time we wept for the children who go to bed hungry every night?

When was the last time we wept over the people who have never heard the Good News of God in Christ?

When was the last time we wept because people refused to let God gather them under God’s wings?

Stepping into such a prophetic role will be difficult. We will make some people uncomfortable with our words and actions. No doubt this role was difficult for the prophets of the Old Testament as well, and John the Baptist handed over his very life to it. But if we have been called by God to this ministry, it is time to drop the excuses and go! The road may be hard, but the joy and peace we find on it will be deep, for our companion on the journey is Christ, who promised, "I am with you always, to the end of the age."

First Sunday in Lent, February 24, 2007

As we enter this season of Lent, we are offered the story of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness.

The three temptations that he faces symbolize many of the temptations that each of us face on a regular basis. This morning I want to look at each of them a little closer, in hopes of helping us be more prepared when we encounter them.

First of all, maybe I need to make it clear that we need to be very careful about confusing temptation with sin. Lots of different things might wander through our minds. Some of those thoughts might be quite ugly. We might be able to limit such thoughts by more closely monitoring what we let into our heads…what we watch on TV, what we read, the kinds of conversations we engage in, for instance. But I think we need to be clear that ugly thoughts wandering through our heads are not necessarily sinful. It is how we respond to such thoughts. Do we dwell on them? Do we act on them? Or do we let them just pass by?

Jesus was tempted, as we are. Yet he did not sin. He rejected those ugly thoughts.

The first temptation is to satisfy his hunger by turning stones into bread. Satisfying our physical appetites is a strong temptation for most people. And at its root is something that is not necessarily wrong.

To understand that, let me give you a definition of sin that I’ve found helpful. Sin is twisted good. At the root of every sin is something good. Sometimes when I hear the suggestion that the way to deal with sin is to cut it out over our lives, I find that idea making little sense to me. Do we really think we can surgically remove a part of ourselves without such a surgery affecting the rest of our being? I don’t think we can do that. We may be able to suppress those parts of who we are that we find tempts us to sin, but eventually it will come back to trouble us again.
I think a healthier way is to untwist the sin…to find its healthy root.

Let’s take for instance the temptation to satisfy our appetites. Often this arises out of the uncomfortable longing that most people experience for that elusive “something more.” We feel something missing. Life isn’t quite right. And so we seek some form of physical gratification to fill that void. Often whatever it is we use; food, sex, alcohol, drugs, whatever our particular temptation is, it seems to satisfy us for the moment, but eventually we find ourselves struggling with that same longing, now complicated by our possible feelings of guilt and remorse because of having given in to the temptation previously.

There’s nothing wrong in recognizing our longing for something more. Actually, that is a healthy thing. When tempted Jesus responded, “Man does not live by bread alone.” In another version of this story, he says, “man does not live by bread alone but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.” This is what we truly long for…God. It is God who will fill that empty void.

Most times, there is nothing wrong with addressing our felt needs: our need for food, shelter, security, companionship. The problem comes when we confuse these things with our real needs, our eternal needs. As Thomas a Kempis said, we use things temporal, but we desire things eternal.

The next temptation Jesus faced was power. He was offered the rule of many kingdoms. Power and authority is a strong temptation for some of us. At its root is a desire to have some control of our lives…to assert some authority over those things we can control. This is not necessarily a bad thing. We could even say that it is an appropriate role for good stewards of God’s creation. The problem comes in when we begin to think that the power rests fully in us; that we rule instead of being stewards. The occasion of sin is when we try to play God.

The reality is that we are never in control, and we can never be God. But we are tempted to try. If we give in to that temptation, we might feel for awhile that we are God, but eventually we will come to realize that we have replaced God with another idol; something outside of ourselves that is driving us to seek power. Jesus’ response to this temptation is to say 'Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.'" We let God be God, and we serve as God’s stewards.
The last temptation grows out of the one before it. Once we realize that we are not God, there is the temptation to try to control God, to find ways to manipulate God’s power. I’d suggest to you that throughout history, one of the institutions that has given in to this temptation is the Church.

I’ll let you think about that one a little bit. For now let me just say that as Christians, we are not into magic, or magical thinking. We are not trying to manipulate God. Our intention is to become aware of the ways in which God is already manifest, the ways in which God is already among us. We are not summoning God to make an appearance here this morning through our prayers. God is already here, and always has been. The change happens within us; we grow to see God moving among us, and then join in God’s dance, usually referred to as doing God’s will in the world.

We do not put God to the test by trying to control or manipulate God. Instead, we seek out God among us, within each of us, and rolling through all things.

When faced with temptations, seek things eternal. Let God be God, and open your eyes to God’s presence among us.

May we observe a holy Lent, resulting in abundant Easter joy.