Sermon preached on Sunday, Lent 4C, March 10, 2013, at St. Augustine’s Anglican Church, Columbus, OH.

Lectionary texts: Joshua 5.9-12; Psalm 32.1-11; 2 Corinthians 5.16-21; Luke 15.1-3, 11b-32.

In the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

In this morning’s gospel lesson Jesus is confronted by the morality police and gate-keepers of proper Judaism of his day, the Scribes and Pharisees. They watched Jesus party with some of the most notorious social outcasts at the time, tax collectors and those who hung around them, and these good and proper Jews wanted to know the reason Jesus was doing such an outrageous thing. After all, tax collectors were typically Jews who saw an opportunity to get rich by collaborating with the hated Romans. They did this by collecting the required taxes and anything they could extort beyond that they could keep as profit. And if people refused to pony up, tax collectors had the power of Rome behind them to extract funds from their unwilling victims. It really was quite a nice system—if you were a tax collector or Roman. But this corruption also led to tax collectors being among the most hated groups in ancient Israel and here Luke tells us that Jesus is partying with them! No wonder these proper Jews scoffed and grumbled when they saw Jesus in party mode with the hated enemy. It would be like Americans watching Jesus party with a bunch of terrorists dedicated to our destruction. Jesus responded by telling the Scribes and Pharisees three parables (two of which are not included in our readings) and so I want us to look briefly at his answer to the Scribes and Pharisees to see what we might learn from it. Specifically, why might we feel like partying, even in the middle of this season of Lent with its serious practices of self-examination, repentance, and self-denial?

We can all relate to the brothers in Jesus’ parable because at one time or another we have played the part of each. We know the sad sequence of events in the story. The younger son brazenly asks his father for his share of the family’s inheritance, even before his father had died, a request in that day that basically said to the father, “I wish you were dead,” something we parents love to hear from our children. Yet astonishingly the father gives the son his share of the family’s wealth and the boy promptly goes off and squanders it on profligate living, much like some of our children do when they go off to college and flunk out. It’s a great ride, at least until the money runs out, and when it did for the son it reduced him to feeding pigs, something that would have been a terrible insult to any first-century Jew. And we can relate to all this because at one time or another we too have squandered time, opportunities, and money (and sometimes self-respect) chasing our own disordered desires and dreams or living life as if we and our needs were the only thing to consider in this world.

But after suffering the consequences of his selfish and hedonistic living, the boy finally comes to his senses (in other words he repented) and realizes that even his father’s servants are better off than he is. So he decides to ask for his father’s forgiveness. And here the parable takes another surprising turn because as the boy nears his home we see his father defy all the social conventions of his day and run to meet his wayward son to welcome him home, something that older men simply did not do in Jesus’ culture. Apparently the father had been looking for his son to return home ever since the boy left and we quickly discover this did not sit well with the older son.

We know the older son too because we act like him sometimes as well. We can hear him now. “How dare you welcome home this son (not my brother) of yours! How dare you kill the fatted calf and put your best robe on this derelict and give him your ring and sandals! You know what that means, dad! It means you have restored him as your son and even had the chutzpah to call for a community-wide celebration to welcome him home! How dare you! I’ve kept my nose to the grindstone all these years and followed all the rules. I’m not the one who told you he wished you were dead and then took off to squander your hard earned money on booze and sex and God knows what else. And now you are going to allow this jerk to come back home? Explain yourself! Oh. And by the way, even if you can explain yourself to my satisfaction (which I seriously doubt), I’m still not coming to your stupid party because the whole thing is just not fair!”

Yes, we all know this older son with his pride and self-righteousness and unwillingness to forgive that often accompanies both, especially those of us who have been in this business of trying to live a good Christian life for a long time. We sometimes wonder what right God has to forgive and restore others, especially when they are people we despise or happen to think are especially undeserving of God’s forgiveness and grace (you know, like Green Bay Packers’, St. Louis Cardinals’, and Michigan fans :-)). And to make matters worse, how dare God welcome these people home and not even bother to congratulate us for living such good lives. Like the older brother, we sometimes want very much to put ourselves on a pedestal when it comes to comparing ourselves with others or worse yet, to think that God owes us something because of our ability to follow the rules. When we understand this line of thinking, we are ready to understand what Paul is talking about in our epistle lesson when he talks about looking at things from a human perspective. That way of thinking, which is almost always rooted in human pride, typically results in discord, factions, anger, alienation, fear, loneliness, and all kinds of other nasty things (cf. Galatians 5.19-21a).

But of course this isn’t what Jesus had in mind when he told the Scribes and Pharisees this parable in response to their angry question about why he was partying with the outcasts of his day. No, he was inviting the self-righteous and gatekeepers to consider the very nature and character of God as seen in this parable because God is the father in it. And what do we see?  We see God the Father inviting his wayward children—you, me, everyone—to come home. But there is more to it than that. Not only is God inviting his wayward children to come home, he is actually looking for us, waiting for us to do so. And when he sees us repent and come to our senses, like the father in the parable God runs to meet us, throws his arms around us, kisses us, and welcomes us back home. Is this the image of God you hold in your mind? Is this the God you know and worship? If it isn’t, no wonder you are likely not in party mode most of the time!

Paul paints essentially the same picture of God in our epistle lesson when he reminds us that in Jesus’ cross, i.e., in the blood of the Lamb shed for us, God has reconciled his sinful and rebellious human creatures to himself. Echoing Jesus, Paul is inviting us to look at God’s character and sheer act of grace as expressed on the cross because we humans are too profoundly broken to do what is necessary to bring about reconciliation with God and each other. Instead, we are invited to shed the filthy rags of our sin and put on the robe and ring and sandals that God gives us; or as Paul puts it, to put on Christ and be baptized into his death so that we can also share in his resurrection (cf. Romans 6.5, 13.14; Galatians 3.27). From this language there can be no doubt. We are rescued from sin and death by the sheer love, mercy, and grace of God for us, a love most powerfully expressed in the cross of Jesus.

When we finally start to understand the magnitude of God’s love for us and the history-changing nature of Jesus’ death and resurrection, it cannot help but change us at a deep and fundamental level, especially when we remember that it is always God who seeks us, not the other way around. We see this illustrated in the other two parables that were omitted from our readings today, the parables of the lost coin and lost sheep (Luke 15.3-10). Just as we saw in our gospel lesson, in these two parables we see the owner earnestly pursuing that which is lost so that they can be restored to to their rightful owner, just the way Jesus was seeking out the lost in his day (and continues to do so in ours). It takes a hard heart indeed not to be moved by such gracious love for us and to respond accordingly in faith and obedience to our Lord.

Returning now to our gospel lesson, Jesus tells us there is an additional reason to celebrate. The father tells the older son that not only was his lost brother found, but also that his brother is now alive after being dead. And now we finally see what Jesus wants the Scribes and Pharisees to see. Jesus is telling his opponents that Israel’s ultimate hope in the resurrection has arrived in himself. Resurrection isn’t a belief. Rather, it is found in the person of Jesus and the work he is about to accomplish in his own death and resurrection (cf. John 11.23-26)! So why wouldn’t there be parties and celebrations? Not only that, but as Jesus made clear in the other two parables (and implies in this parable), when the lost are found and the dead are made alive again, there is wild celebrating going on in heaven over this as well! And if there is celebrating in heaven why shouldn’t there be celebrating on earth? As the father told the older son, this brother of yours was dead, but is alive again. He was lost, but now is found. This is no time to be grumpy or stodgy. No! Jesus is telling his opponents that this calls for parties and celebration instead!

Closer to home, Jesus’ teaching applies to us as well. All around us we see dead people coming to life and lost people being found. For starters, look around this room. Everyone you see, yourself included, was dead but is now alive. We know we are alive because by faith we believe that we are reconciled to God by the blood of the Lamb. We believe that our mortal bodies will be raised from the dead one day because God raised Jesus from the dead to usher in his promised new creation, and we have been given the Spirit to work in and through us to transform and heal us so that we can become Jesus’ people, the fully human beings God created us to be. We didn’t know how to ask for this. God did this because he loves us and searches for us to invite us to come back home, to come to our senses. This new resurrection life is part of what we celebrate at the eucharist each week when we come to the Table to feed on our Lord’s body and blood. There’s a party going on in heaven right now and it is appropriate for us to join in.

Paul is essentially telling us the same thing in today’s epistle lesson. He starts by saying, “from now on…” to remind us that in Jesus’ death and resurrection, the hope and promise of a new world that is not bedeviled by evil, sin, and death is already upon us and we are reconciled to God as part of it. And when we really believe that, we are a new creation. We don’t look at others as we used to in our brokenness, but rather as healed and redeemed people of Jesus. We are people with real hope because we are Easter people who were dead but are now alive, lost but are now found. This gives us confidence in the future because we know that in Jesus’ death and resurrection God has sealed the deal and our job is to live like people who really believe the promise.

So what are the implications of all this, both for the Church and for us as individuals? For the Church, it means that we need to be in serious party mode, especially during the 50 days of Easter, to share the Good News of Jesus Christ with others in a variety of ways that call forth celebrations and joy. If heaven is partying over what Jesus’ death and resurrection accomplished, so should we. And so this morning I challenge you to help us think about how best to do that together so that perhaps when others see St. Augustine’s at work they too may ask, “What is the meaning of this outrageous party?” This will allow us to respond joyfully, “We are celebrating and doing this work because our Lord was lost but now is found, was dead but is alive again, and we with him!” I am convinced we need to do this because we have lost the hope and promise of Jesus’ death and resurrection as the only basis to inaugurate and eventually bring about in full God’s promised new world. Instead of seeing Jesus’ death and resurrection as the true turning point in history and the only legitimate source of all real hope and every blessing, we have exchanged our resurrection hope for the myth of human progress as the basis for our future and hope,  and it is leaving us impoverished.

Likewise, as individuals we need to reflect on how Jesus’ resurrection makes us a new creation and what our part is in that process. Because we know that in our baptism we have been buried with Christ so that we can share in his resurrection, our personal party ought to be all about shedding our filthy rags and putting on Christ’s new clothing. In other words, we ought to be all about putting aside the old and dreary ways of the world with its brokenness and greed and anger and fear and loneliness, and putting on instead the new way of life that is characterized by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, self-control, and all the rest so that when people see us and the life we live, they might ask us what this is all about. And we can say to them, “I live this way because this your friend or brother or neighbor was lost, but now is found, was dead, but is now alive again, and that’s a good reason to celebrate! Care to join in the fun?” Of course, this is where Lent comes back into the picture because this is the season where we focus on holiness, on shedding our old filthy rags and opening ourselves to the influence and power of the Spirit to heal and transform us. We do the hard work of putting to death our sinful nature with the help of the Spirit because we have the hope of resurrection and new creation, which transforms us ultimately into being resurrection and Easter people. And being resurrection and Easter people is always worth celebrating. It also means of course that we really do have Good News, now and for all eternity.

In the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.