Sunday, March 28, 2010

Journey With the Prodigal

Homily for Palm Sunday March 28, 2010

In the story of Christ's passion, and in our procession with palms in hand, we walk with Christ as he enters Jerusalem for the last time. We worship a Lord who is fully human, in his birth, in his youth as the son of a simple carpenter, and in the difficulties and trials of his life, which led him finally to the Cross. He is a human man, entering the city on the back of a borrowed donkey colt, but the people who have heard of him recognize his divinity. Spreading branches and even garments on the road before him, they praise him as they would a king. The disciples shout, "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord." Our Lord is fully human and fully divine.

As I've reflected on Christ during the days of Lent, my thoughts kept turning to the Parable of the Prodigal Son. It came to me that the three figures in the parable, the forgiving father and his two sons, might be seen to represent the three figures in the Holy Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I know this may sound like a stretch, but think of it this way. Jesus often obviously included himself as a character in the parables he told. Certainly he is the good shepherd who leaves the 99 sheep behind in order to search for the missing one. In the parable of the wayward tenants, he is clearly the landlord's son, sent by his father after the servants have failed to reason with the ruthless tenants, who kill him. It may even be possible to see the Lord as the battered victim left to die by the roadside in the parable of the Good Samaritan. In all of these stories, we can see Jesus presenting his own story to his followers. Why not in the story of the Prodigal Son? I find the idea deeply moving that Jesus would prefigure the circumstances of his death and resurrection in this story.

In case you have forgotten the details, let me read it for you again:

"There was a man who had two sons. 12The younger one said to his father, 'Father, give me my share of the estate.' So he divided his property between them.
13"Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. 14After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. 15So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.

17"When he came to his senses, he said, 'How many of my father's hired men have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men.'
20So he got up and went to his father.
"But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.
21"The son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.[a]'
22"But the father said to his servants, 'Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let's have a feast and celebrate. 24For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' So they began to celebrate.
25"Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27'Your brother has come,' he replied, 'and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.'
28"The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29But he answered his father, 'Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!'
31" 'My son,' the father said, 'you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' "

If the story of the Prodigal Son is Jesus's own story, then the ever-merciful and loving Father is God the Father--the usual interpretation. But who are the two sons? The elder son, the son "who is always with" the Father is surely the Holy Spirit. I will return to why the Spirit would challenge the father's decision in showing mercy to the prodigal brother. Now I want to explain how I see Jesus represented in the wayward son.

Sent out into the world on his own, with the Father's blessing, the prodigal brother wastes his time and fortune with sinners and prostitutes. If you recall, Jesus is reviled by the Pharisees for consorting with such people, and yet such sinners are his best friends and disciples. The prodigal brother loses everything and is reduced to the complete humiliation of envying the food of the pigs he tends. Starving and alone, abandoned by his fair-weather friends, the Prodigal brother turns once again toward home, not sure of the reception he will receive there. From a distance, the father sees him coming and rushes to embrace him, to feed him, to welcome him. To compare...Christ died the shameful and lonely death on the cross, betrayed by his apostles and believing in his pain that his father might have abandoned him. But God the Father raises him up on the third day and welcomes him to the place of honor beside him. In the parable, the Father explains to the elder brother, "We had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found."

Seen this way, as told by Jesus himself, the parable tells of his choice to live a life like one of ours, a fully human, fully tragic life among the weakest of people. In this life, he learned compassion for human folly through the shame and pain he suffered. In dying the execution of the worst kind of sinners, he made belief in the Father's compassion and mercy a real and comprehensible thing. In rising from the dead, he was restored to the Father's abundance, and he gave all sinners hope for mercy and resurrection. In returning home, he became One with the Father and the Spirit.

So why would the Spirit, the elder brother, challenge this course of events? The Spirit, also known in the Old Testament as Lady Wisdom, may represent the mother in this story. I have always thought the absence of the mother to be a strange omission. In fact, I've sometimes wondered if the Father, who is prodigal in his forgiveness of the wayward son, does not respond in a way more expected from a mother. If the elder brother stands in for the Spirit in this story, as well as the missing mother, then the lesson is one of tough love. The question this brother/Spirit truly asks of the Father is this: "Are you really sure you want to forgive and welcome home this profligate son?" The Father's answer is yes--there is enough love for all.

Before he leaves the apostles for good, Jesus tells them the Spirit will come to them and be with them always. Jesus's becoming human, living and dying a human death, made it possible for the Spirit to find a pathway to each human heart.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Lenten Reflections

Sermon for Lent 2 February 28, 2010



Two Sundays ago, February 14th, Bishop Shannon made his first official visit to Buck Mountain Church and celebrated with us there the last Sunday in the season of Epiphany. That Sunday is also known as Transfiguration Sunday, appropriately, as it makes the transition into Lent, and we are reminded of the mountaintop event when the apostles saw Jesus shining with the radiance of God. Bishop Shannon counseled us to remember that we share in the transfiguration. As poet and priest Gerard Manley Hopkins beautifully expressed it, "The world is charged with the grandeur of God/it will flame out like shining from shook foil..." Through Christ, who lives within us, we are endowed with the ability to shine forth with God's glory and God's blessing.

The collect we read on Transfiguration Sunday includes the following words: "Grant to us that we, beholding by faith the light of his countenance, may be strengthened to bear our cross and be changed into his likeness from glory to glory." I'd like to point out the way this statement is worded: it says, may we "be strengthened to bear our cross." It doesn't say "if we have a cross, help us to bear it." No, the collect assumes what the Lord knows and what we adults have had ample opportunities to learn: all of us have crosses to bear.

Now, I admit that in a secret corner of my heart, and I expect this is true for most of us, I harbor a life-long wish to live to be at least 100, to have good health my whole life, and to have a pain-free, problem-free life. In other words, I would prefer not to have a cross to bear, thank you very much. Of course I know this is a complete fantasy. There is scarcely a day that goes by when we don't have some difficulty to face, whether it is a small annoyance, like feeling misunderstood by a coworker, or a major crisis, like dealing with illness or the illness of someone we love. Crosses are plentiful.

During a baptism, the priest or bishop anoints the child's forehead with oil, making the sign of the cross and saying, "You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ's own forever." I am grateful we renew our baptismal vows from time to time. It is always good to be reminded that we have been sealed and marked as "Christ's own forever." The sign of the cross symbolizes our union with Christ.

There are three occasions when a priest makes the sign of the cross on someone's forehead. One is at baptism. Another is during a healing service, when the person is anointed with oil and the priest prays for his or her physical and spiritual healing. The third occurs in a solemn ritual to mark the beginning of the penitential season of Lent, the imposition of ashes on Ash Wednesday, when the priest says these words: "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." Why is a cross applied to our bodies in such a personal way on these three sacramental occasions?

The cross traced lovingly on our forehead is the place where divinity and humanity meet. Because we are human, each of us has a cross to bear. The cross reminds us of this, but it also reminds us that Christ became human, lived and died as one of us, so that He could understand and share our suffering. We are not alone in our suffering or in our joy. As Paul writes in the letter to the Philipians, "He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his glory..." The spark of His divinity we carry inside us is a transfiguring spirit, capable of breathing life into the very dust. Some effort is required of us, however; we play an important part in our own transformation from sinner to saved, from cross-bearer to one who is redeemed.

The forty days of Lent are set aside as a time to repent. One definition of repent is "to think again." How often do we willingly revisit the choices we have made or the words we've said? Such self-examination requires us to be honest about our behavior and our attitudes. When we seek forgiveness, we need to acknowledge the ways we have missed the mark, especially since the Lord knows them before we do. Another meaning of the word repent is "turn again." By being honest and humble about our own failings, we make a conscious decision to turn more fully to God.

The gospel lesson for last Sunday, the first Sunday in Lent, was the story of Jesus's forty days in the wilderness. Remember, before he entered the wilderness, Jesus had just been baptized, had just heard the voice of God proclaiming him as His beloved Son. No wonder he needed some time alone, to examine his own heart and determine what he was being called to do. During his long stay in the desert, we are told by Luke, "He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished." It is at this point, at a time of great physical stress and mental anguish, when Jesus undergoes a very human experience: he is tempted by Satan. Luke tells the story of this encounter and Satan's three temptations in striking words:

The first one: "The devil said to him, 'If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.'" And the second...

"Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said to him, 'To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.'" Finally...

"Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, 'If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written,
'He will command his angels concerning you,
to protect you,'
and
'On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.'"

When I was a child, I heard this story and imagined a red-horned devil, like the cartoonish one that sits on a person's shoulder and competes for her soul with the angel on her other shoulder. Now, I think it is more terrifying to recognize in Jesus’s experience a tempter like the one I often encounter. Jesus, in the wilderness to come to terms with the staggering challenge of being called God's son, is not only wrestling with his identity, but is weak and starving as well. At this very vulnerable moment, his thoughts have taken him to a dangerous place: the place where he feels the need to test his power and test the father who gave such power to him. That's not very surprising, is it?

The first temptation, the first wayward thought, has to do with his most pressing need: hunger. Someone who is starving is capable of doing very drastic things in order to get food, and may even be subject to hallucinations. We can almost see that interior demon whispering, “Shouldn’t the Son of God be able to turn a stone into something to eat?” Jesus shows remarkable strength in brushing that thought aside.

While the first temptation had to do with a basic physical need, the next one appeals to pride. “Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world.” Can you imagine that vision, as the Lord must have seen it? We learn much about his humility when he resists the offer of unimaginable power.

The third temptation sounds like a product of fear, a foreseeing into the dark end he faces. He must have wondered, will my father really be there to rescue me when I need him, or is this all my imagination? Yes, the psalm says the angels will swarm to protect him, but can he trust that to happen? Can he trust the absent Father to come through for him? Those are thoughts we have certainly had in our most fearful moments. At this point in his life, Christ has not begun his ministry and is beginning to come to terms with his identity and the difficulties he will surely face. It isn't so surprising his fear may cause him to question God, to have a sliver of doubt.

No, it's not surprising that a starving young man at the beginning of a new and challenging ministry would suffer the temptations of doubt and fear. What is remarkable is how decisively he rejects them. As we face our own inner demons during this Lenten season (and during any season of the year), it is very good to be reminded that Christ has faced demons of his own. He understands that kind of human suffering, too. The forty days of the Lenten penitential season are offered as a kind of wilderness experience for us, and we can be comforted by the knowledge that Christ knows how to deal with temptations and intervenes for us as we confront our own demons.

The point of fasting, or whatever penitential practice we undertake during Lent, is to teach us to endure hardship as it brings us closer to our Lord. Paul says as much in his letter to the Corinthians, "as servants of God we have commended ourselves in every way: through great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities." Now, it is unlikely any of us will have to endure the kinds of afflictions, hardships and calamities that Paul describes, which include beatings and imprisonment. The cross we wear reminds us that Christ endured the worst kind of hardship on our behalves, so we don't have to. Through our Lenten practice, we acknowledge the reality of that gift with gratitude.

The prophet Joel has the Lord say it in this way: "Return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; rend your hearts and not your clothing. Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful." In our Lenten reflection, we rend our hearts with repentance, with self-examination and self-honesty, and with God's mercy, we survive the process.

Close your eyes and imagine a cross being traced on your forehead. Remember, it is Christ's finger touching you, Christ reassuring you that he is ever with you, especially in times of pain. Yes, we are dust and to dust we will return, but even the dust is holy.

Our psalm for today, Psalm 27, offers some of the most comforting words anyone could hear during a time of distress. I would like to have us read that together now. It is found on page 617 of the Book of Common Prayer.

Psalm 27 Page 617, BCP
Dominus illuminatio
1
The LORD is my light and my salvation;
whom then shall I fear? *
the LORD is the strength of my life;
of whom then shall I be afraid?
2
When evildoers came upon me to eat up my flesh, *
it was they, my foes and my adversaries, who
stumbled and fell.
3
Though an army should encamp against me, *
yet my heart shall not be afraid;
4
And though war should rise up against me, *
yet will I put my trust in him.
5
One thing have I asked of the LORD;
one thing I seek; *
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days
of my life;
6
To behold the fair beauty of the LORD *
and to seek him in his temple.
7
For in the day of trouble he shall keep me safe
in his shelter; *
he shall hide me in the secrecy of his dwelling
and set me high upon a rock.
8
Even now he lifts up my head *
above my enemies round about me.
9
Therefore I will offer in his dwelling an oblation
with sounds of great gladness; *
I will sing and make music to the LORD.
10
Hearken to my voice, O LORD, when I call; *
have mercy on me and answer me.
11
You speak in my heart and say, "Seek my face." *
Your face, LORD, will I seek.
12
Hide not your face from me, *
nor turn away your servant in displeasure.
13
You have been my helper;
cast me not away; *
do not forsake me, O God of my salvation.
14
Though my father and my mother forsake me, *
the LORD will sustain me.
15
Show me your way, O LORD; *
lead me on a level path, because of my enemies.
16
Deliver me not into the hand of my adversaries, *
for false witnesses have risen up against me,
and also those who speak malice.
17
What if I had not believed
that I should see the goodness of the LORD *
in the land of the living!
18
O tarry and await the LORD'S pleasure;
be strong, and he shall comfort your heart; *
wait patiently for the LORD.

Glory to the father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen.