St. Margaret's Sermon Archive
Lent IV - Susan N. Blue - 03/18/07
"An eighty-five-year-old man was sitting on a park bench, crying. A passerby who noticed the tears running down the man's cheek, stopped to see if he could be of any help. "I don't mean to intrude," he said, "But is there anything I can do to help? Is there anything wrong at home? The man replied between sobs, "No everything is fine there. I have a big beautiful home, two cars, and a swimming pool. I have a wonderful wife, much younger than I, who is a superb cook, treats me like a king and is always attentive to all my needs." "Well, then, why in heaven's name are you crying?" said the passerby. The old man replied: "I can't remember where I live."
(Sunday Sermons, vol. 37, #2, p. 7)
Most of us, too, have at times lost our way. The parable of the two sons today follows that of the lost sheep and the lost coin. All are about those who have been lost and then are found. The first two serve to heighten the central importance of that of the Prodigal. In all three the Pharisees were challenging Jesus' orthodoxy when he reached out to those who were in most need or were the greatest pariahs. Jesus only affirmed that which the Pharisees already believed and most disliked about him, that all the law-keeping, rule-following in the world cannot earn a person God's grace.
The parable of the two sons finds its center in the loving nature of the father. His love is excessive, invitational and makes him supremely vulnerable in every way. Rarely would a father give his sons their inheritance prior to his death. Traditionally, the younger son received on third and the elder, two thirds. By distributing his wealth the father made himself totally dependent upon the elder son. He risked all for his sons and was left in penury.
When the younger son returned from squandering his portion, hoping to serve as a servant in his father's home, the father ran to him (unheard of in that time) and embraced him before the son could even utter any words. The father immediately called for a robe (an offering for an honored guest), a ring (the sign of son-ship), shoes (indicating he was restored to full membership in the household), and ordered the fatted calf killed (an event that happened only at times of major feasts). The son was forgiven before he asked for it and received God's grace.
The elder son, petulant, jealous and self-absorbed refused to enter the party. Again, uncommonly, the father left and implored him to join them. The elder son had the meretricious belief that one could earn grace, that, perhaps love was a finite commodity, and that he deserved more than his brother. The end of the parable is open-ended – we are not told what he finally decided.
There is much of the elder son in most of us who have lost our way. We often think of justice and rights and compare ourselves to one another. We don't understand that God's mercy extends to all, including our self-righteous selves, and that that mercy is expressed in our renewed relationships with one another.
"A Jewish story tells of the good fortune of a hardworking farmer. The Lord appeared to him and granted him three wishes, but with the condition that whatever the Lord did for the farmer would be done double for his neighbor. The farmer, scarcely believing his good fortune, wished for a hundred cattle. Immediately he received a hundred cattle, and he was overjoyed until he saw that his neighbor had two hundred. So he wished for a hundred acres of land, and, again he was filled with joy until he saw that his neighbor had two hundred acres of land. Rather than celebrating God's goodness, the farmer could not escape feeling jealous and slighted because his neighbor had received more than he. Finally, he stated his third wish: that God would strike him blind in one eye. And God wept." (New Interpreter's Bible, vol IX, p. 298)"
In all three parables, when the lost is found – be it a sheep, a coin or a son – there is rejoicing in heaven and a party ensues. It has been said that the younger son, in coming to himself, learned to say "Abba" again, and that the elder needed to say "my brother" again. (Joachim Jeremias, copied)
We are currently in a struggle in our communion about the meaning of faith, the reading of scripture, and the application of each to our lives in community. Do we believe that God is active today, bringing about new realities and understandings about who and what we are and are to be, or is scripture and tradition graven in stone and – a kind of orthodoxy, if you will, to which all of us must adhere.
"Howard Thurman, an African American minister and educator, found that this parable offered a new insight as he reflected on the meaning of the Christian faith in bringing us to ourselves:
"…I believe that Jesus reveals to a person the meaning of what s/he is in root and essence already. When the prodigal son came to himself, he came to his father…
My mind and spirit churned in a fermentation of doubt and hope. I was convinced there was no more crucial problem for the believer than this – that a way be found by which his religious faith could keep him related to the ground of his security as a person. Thus, to be a Christian, a person would not be required to stretch himself out of shape to conform to the demands of his religious faith; rather, his faith should make it possible for him to come to himself whole, in an inclusive and integrated manner, one that would not be possible without his spiritual orientation." (Howard Thurman, With Head and Heart: The Autobiography of Howard Thurman, San Diego, Harcourt Brace, 1979)
For me, the heart of this quote is: "…to be a Christian, a person would not be required to stretch himself out of shape to conform to the demands of his religious faith; rather, his faith should make it possible for him to come to himself whole, in an inclusive and integrated manner…" In talking about clergy transitions, Canon Mary Sulerud suggested that we ponder a number of things, one of which was that we should "…not confuse certainty with faithfulness." (WECA, March 12, 2007) For me this means that it is not adhering slavishly to a set orthodoxy or set of rule that will save us, but that, in the midst of our lost-ness, in our humanity, we come to ourselves and acknowledge who and whose we are; that we admit that we are totally dependent upon God and God's mercy.
This admission is lived out in our relationship with one another as we are called to reconciliation in our private and corporate lives. Reconciliation does not require agreement or theological conformity, but rather a reaching out in love and acceptance over the barrier of our differences. This is true for us all: men and women, black and white, gay and straight, and conservative and liberal. God wants all of us, each and every one of us, to come into the party, to celebrate. The only ticket for admission is coming to ourselves and accepting God's love and mercy.
AMEN
(Sunday Sermons, vol. 37, #2, p. 7)
Most of us, too, have at times lost our way. The parable of the two sons today follows that of the lost sheep and the lost coin. All are about those who have been lost and then are found. The first two serve to heighten the central importance of that of the Prodigal. In all three the Pharisees were challenging Jesus' orthodoxy when he reached out to those who were in most need or were the greatest pariahs. Jesus only affirmed that which the Pharisees already believed and most disliked about him, that all the law-keeping, rule-following in the world cannot earn a person God's grace.
The parable of the two sons finds its center in the loving nature of the father. His love is excessive, invitational and makes him supremely vulnerable in every way. Rarely would a father give his sons their inheritance prior to his death. Traditionally, the younger son received on third and the elder, two thirds. By distributing his wealth the father made himself totally dependent upon the elder son. He risked all for his sons and was left in penury.
When the younger son returned from squandering his portion, hoping to serve as a servant in his father's home, the father ran to him (unheard of in that time) and embraced him before the son could even utter any words. The father immediately called for a robe (an offering for an honored guest), a ring (the sign of son-ship), shoes (indicating he was restored to full membership in the household), and ordered the fatted calf killed (an event that happened only at times of major feasts). The son was forgiven before he asked for it and received God's grace.
The elder son, petulant, jealous and self-absorbed refused to enter the party. Again, uncommonly, the father left and implored him to join them. The elder son had the meretricious belief that one could earn grace, that, perhaps love was a finite commodity, and that he deserved more than his brother. The end of the parable is open-ended – we are not told what he finally decided.
There is much of the elder son in most of us who have lost our way. We often think of justice and rights and compare ourselves to one another. We don't understand that God's mercy extends to all, including our self-righteous selves, and that that mercy is expressed in our renewed relationships with one another.
"A Jewish story tells of the good fortune of a hardworking farmer. The Lord appeared to him and granted him three wishes, but with the condition that whatever the Lord did for the farmer would be done double for his neighbor. The farmer, scarcely believing his good fortune, wished for a hundred cattle. Immediately he received a hundred cattle, and he was overjoyed until he saw that his neighbor had two hundred. So he wished for a hundred acres of land, and, again he was filled with joy until he saw that his neighbor had two hundred acres of land. Rather than celebrating God's goodness, the farmer could not escape feeling jealous and slighted because his neighbor had received more than he. Finally, he stated his third wish: that God would strike him blind in one eye. And God wept." (New Interpreter's Bible, vol IX, p. 298)"
In all three parables, when the lost is found – be it a sheep, a coin or a son – there is rejoicing in heaven and a party ensues. It has been said that the younger son, in coming to himself, learned to say "Abba" again, and that the elder needed to say "my brother" again. (Joachim Jeremias, copied)
We are currently in a struggle in our communion about the meaning of faith, the reading of scripture, and the application of each to our lives in community. Do we believe that God is active today, bringing about new realities and understandings about who and what we are and are to be, or is scripture and tradition graven in stone and – a kind of orthodoxy, if you will, to which all of us must adhere.
"Howard Thurman, an African American minister and educator, found that this parable offered a new insight as he reflected on the meaning of the Christian faith in bringing us to ourselves:
"…I believe that Jesus reveals to a person the meaning of what s/he is in root and essence already. When the prodigal son came to himself, he came to his father…
My mind and spirit churned in a fermentation of doubt and hope. I was convinced there was no more crucial problem for the believer than this – that a way be found by which his religious faith could keep him related to the ground of his security as a person. Thus, to be a Christian, a person would not be required to stretch himself out of shape to conform to the demands of his religious faith; rather, his faith should make it possible for him to come to himself whole, in an inclusive and integrated manner, one that would not be possible without his spiritual orientation." (Howard Thurman, With Head and Heart: The Autobiography of Howard Thurman, San Diego, Harcourt Brace, 1979)
For me, the heart of this quote is: "…to be a Christian, a person would not be required to stretch himself out of shape to conform to the demands of his religious faith; rather, his faith should make it possible for him to come to himself whole, in an inclusive and integrated manner…" In talking about clergy transitions, Canon Mary Sulerud suggested that we ponder a number of things, one of which was that we should "…not confuse certainty with faithfulness." (WECA, March 12, 2007) For me this means that it is not adhering slavishly to a set orthodoxy or set of rule that will save us, but that, in the midst of our lost-ness, in our humanity, we come to ourselves and acknowledge who and whose we are; that we admit that we are totally dependent upon God and God's mercy.
This admission is lived out in our relationship with one another as we are called to reconciliation in our private and corporate lives. Reconciliation does not require agreement or theological conformity, but rather a reaching out in love and acceptance over the barrier of our differences. This is true for us all: men and women, black and white, gay and straight, and conservative and liberal. God wants all of us, each and every one of us, to come into the party, to celebrate. The only ticket for admission is coming to ourselves and accepting God's love and mercy.
AMEN