Many Stories, One Voice

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

            As we read the gospel this morning, you voiced the parts of the two brothers – the younger son, who went away for a time and then returned to the homestead, perhaps only seeking survival, but receiving grace far beyond his imagining;  and the elder son had stuck around and unfailingly persisted in trying to do the right thing, consistently receiving all that he needed all along, but never really appreciating that fact.

I wonder how reading both parts felt to you? Which voice felt most authentic to you – most like your own experience, most like the character you can relate to?

Most of us have probably heard this parable many times. Therefore, the word, “prodigal,” has become part of our lexicon, and it has come to mean something rather specific to us. So, when we hear someone referred to as a prodigal, or even refer to themselves as such, what do we think of? What assumptions do we make about a person who is a “prodigal”?

Very often, the prodigal is one who has turned away from and rejected familial relationships. The prodigal is one who seems to have moved the family system to a place of irrevocable brokenness. (You know the saying, “A mother is only as happy as her least happy child? It goes for the entire system.) We’ve each probably known someone like that at some time in our lives. Perhaps we’ve been that person.

The story of the Prodigal Son may strike some of us uncomfortably close to home, because there is some aspect of the story that we are living out today.  Someone is lost; someone is missing; someone, while still living, is as good as dead.

Sadly, for some who are locked into situations like this, hurts suffered have never healed and now feel beyond healing – a life has ended, and with it opportunity for reconciliation may be passed. Instead, a scar resides deep within.

Prodigals are created  when someone has “fallen from grace” through decisions made, alternative alliances forged, (like falling in with the wrong people), suffering failures of our own making, or abandoning the relationships and norms that surround them.

If you have ever been a part of a prodigal story, regardless of which character you have been, know that it is with sincere empathy for each of the characters here, that we approach this story today.

While it may be easy to place ourselves somewhere in the story, this parable does not stand alone, but is part of a larger narrative in which Jesus responds to those challenging him by telling three stories that center on the experiences of loss and grace.

The situation is this: the Pharisees and scribes were Kvetching about the social activities of Jesus. He has been spending time with, and even eating with tax collectors and sinners. (Imagine that!) He has been hanging out with outcasts and undesirables. (Oh, my!)

It might be really satisfying for us right now if Jesus just set the record straight and put them in their places.

Instead, (this being Jesus) he tells these three parables – stories in which it is unquestionably clear that God loves and behaves differently than we do, and that God values sinners more than we could ever imagine, (which is good news for all of us!).

As Jesus moves from parable to parable, story to story, he barely takes a breath. He begins with a woman who finds a lost coin – just one coin among many she may own – because of its importance to her, and when she finds it celebrates with great joy and wild abandon.

Then he tells about a celebration that goes on when one measly sheep out of an entire flock is found after wandering away and becoming lost.

And finally, he tells about this huge bash given in honor of the most unlikely of recipients: a kid that was not simply lost, hadn’t just wandered away, but has behaved in the most egregious and outrageous manner, demanding an early pay-out on his inheritance, and then abandoning his father and all that connects him to this place.

What makes this story so interesting and how over-the-top all of the characters behave.

• The father, rather than setting his son straight to begin with, gives in to his demands, and hands over the goods.
• The son then squanders everything and finds himself not just in a bad situation, but destitute – literally in a life-threatening condition.
• The place where he now resides goes through a famine and not one person will offer him assistance.
• He finally takes a thoroughly demeaning job but even then isn’t even given so much as the carob pods which he has to feed to the pigs to eat himself. No one there cares anything about him or his welfare.
• Finally he decides to return to his father and appeal to his compassion and hope for at least the same as the very least of his father’s hired hands would receive, which is more than he has now.
• Then, the most ridiculous thing of all happens: before he can even say a word, while he still just a speck on the horizon, his father runs to him, overjoyed, with arms outstretched.

It’s all quite scandalous, really, but only the elder son in the story seems to know that. Of course, he has his own gripe, because not only has the father behaved shamefully weak and gullible, in his overzealous rush to welcome home his boy, the elder son has felt totally disrespected.

Here this brother of his so cruelly and uncaringly cut himself out of the family, yet is given the hero’s welcome, while here he stands, the polar opposite – faithful, dutiful, hard-working, loyal son – the son who has slaved and tried so hard to always do the right thing. He is flabbergasted to see his brother receive what it is he himself has always wanted – recognition, favor, the party!

This, my friends, is a story of extremes. The father’s over-the-top forgiveness and love for his sons is book-ended by their outrageous behavior.

The thing is, in our reading of this story, while the words and actions of one son may have resonated more than the words and actions of the other son today, many of us may have found ourselves in the shoes of both sons at one time or another in our lives.

The point that this parable makes is poignant for whatever your story might be. There is genius in that, because the truth is that God’s grace is every bit as scandalous and ridiculous as the picture we get of the father in our story. And it doesn’t matter which brother’s actions reflect our own, God’s love is big enough and God’s grace sufficient enough for us all.

The story speaks as much to our lives as it did to the lives of both Gentile and Jew, Pharisee and outcast, sinner and rule-follower, prodigal and elder-brother of Jesus’ day. And the point Jesus makes is just as timely for us today as it was for those for whom these stories were originally written.

It boils down to this: in God’s economy, there is plenty of grace to go around, and God spreads it over each of us as we have need. It is God’s desire that none of the sheep who go astray be lost forever; that the coin that found its way into a corner somewhere is just as precious and necessary to God’s kingdom as any other coin in the purse; and that the gospel is for everybody – rule follower and prodigal alike.

That is indeed good news for all of us. For those of us who seemingly hit rock bottom before we realized that we were invited to the great feast, and sometimes still feel like we’re dangerously close to the bottom of the pit, God especially reaches out to you in love and forgiveness. God wants you to know that you are welcome and cherished, and you are, through the mercy of Jesus Christ, forgiven.

For those of us who have been around here for years, and for those who just started attending church or coming to the table yesterday, God’s grace embraces you equally; you belong here and are equally members of the Body of Christ. For those of us who struggle to get through each day and for those who really have ourselves all pulled together, God love and grace are poured out on you in sufficient quantities to for exactly the need you have. For those who can quote scripture chapter and verse and those who have difficulty distinguishing the Old Testament from the New, God knows your hearts in equal measure and has already surrounded you with God’s compassionate love. You belong to him.  

The good news of the Gospel of Jesus Christ is that it is for everyone. All are invited to the table and in God’s perfect grace it is large enough for us all.

God’s love does not discriminate, it transforms. It doesn’t matter where you have come from or where you are today – in Jesus Christ, God’s grace covers you. The good news of God’s scandalous, ridiculous grace is for those who have always been the straight arrows and for those who have followed the crooked path. And since God’s love enfolds every cherished person, how can our welcome do any less?

God rejoices in the person God has created you to be. It doesn’t matter the color of your skin, the language you speak, or the country from which you or your ancestors derived, your gender, your age, or your sexuality. God’s love enfolds you.

As we read this parable, we acknowledge that we need to die daily to sin and rise to new life in Christ, which is the gift of our baptism. But, only when we are able to let go of our resentment, judgment of the other, bitterness and hatred may we learn what new life and new creation truly mean; it is the radical, scandalous, and ridiculous love of God and God’s eternal and unending grace that we receive through Jesus that will finally, when all is said and done, free us from our own lost paths and need for justification.  

My brothers and sisters in Christ, prodigals all are we. May we live in gratitude that even in his final act from the cross, when he forgave another prodigal, the criminal beside him, Jesus showed us how unfathomably scandalous and huge is the grace of God. Praise be to God! Amen.

Tah Dah! The Great Easter Surprise

Matthew 28:1-10

Christ is risen, Alleluia!

He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

A well-known and often ignored piece of advice to pastors regarding children’s sermons is, “don’t ask questions.” You never know what you’ll get – you know the adage, “Children say the darnedest things?” Of course, there is also the saying that Jesus himself quoted, “Out of the mouths of infants and babes….”

Well, there is a pastor who asked this question in an Easter Sunday children’s sermon a few years ago: ‘What were Jesus’ first words to his disciples after he was raised from the dead?’ To be honest, he didn’t expect an answer. It was sort of a rhetorical question; but before he could give the answer from Gospel of this morning –a little girl waved her hand eagerly, excited to answer the question, so the pastor called on her. “I know what Jesus said,” she answered; “Tah dah!”

Well, today we do indeed celebrate the great “Tah dah!” of the church, for—

Christ has risen! Alleluia! He has risen indeed! Alleluia!

You know, what it is lacking in dignity, “Tah dah!” more than makes up in accuracy, as a reasonable response when presented with the wonderfully surprising, unprecedented, and miraculous resurrection of Jesus.

Tah dah!

This Easter Sunday, we celebrate with great joy the wonderful surprise of that day when Jesus was raised from death to life.

While the real first word the Risen Lord Jesus spoke was in fact a very ordinary greeting – in this extraordinary moment, “Tah dah!” would have seemed about right.

Imagine that you are one of the women who approached the tomb of Jesus that morning. The sabbath is over, so for those in and around Jerusalem that day, it was a regular workday.

The shopkeepers and merchants, the innkeepers and even the government officials and temple caretakeres were cleaning up and recovering from the Passover festival of the week before, even as the great multitude of visitors who had come to Jerusalem for the Passover departed to return to their homes.

It was back to business for many in Jerusalem that day.

It was not, however, business as usual for Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, mourning the death of Jesus. For them and for the other disciples, still reeling from the events of the week before, experiencing a communal sense of loss and failure, grief and shame, there was nothing ordinary about this day.

For these women, a visit to the tomb seemed in order.

It’s the same place where they had sat and watched as the dead body of Jesus was wrapped in linen and lain to rest just a couple of evenings ago. Aside from perhaps anointing the body, the women may simply have wanted to spend time where he rested—they  felt closer to him there.

You may have experienced the same kind of need, following loss.

Cemeteries are full of granite markers placed for our loved ones who have died, a place where we can go and remember them. Some of us have, in our home or in another special spot a place where we can go to remember and feel close to those we have lost.

But as the women approach the tomb, perhaps hoping to experience something of the essence of Jesus but expecting to experience nothing more than grief that day, two extraordinary things happen. On that first Easter morning, just as on the afternoon Jesus died, there is an earthquake. An earthquake!

What must they have thought? Did they remember the way the earth shook as Jesus died on the cross?

Then they saw an angel of the Lord descending from heaven, rolling back the stone from the entrance to the tomb, and they heard him speaking to them, saying, “Do not be afraid.”

These women, who perhaps had lost all hope, who are deep in mourning, who are the only two disciples brave enough to leave the upper room where the rest of the disciples were hiding out on this day, suddenly see an angel whose appearance is like blazing, blinding, white-hot lightening, from whom they are suddenly given words of hope, comfort, and reassurance. “Do not be afraid.”

Jesus is not here, the angel says, he has been raised from the dead just as he had promised he would be. Look in the tomb. See for yourselves.

So, the women take a look, and then, perhaps another, because indeed, “tah dah!” Jesus is not there. His body is gone. The tomb is empty.

The stone was rolled away not to let Jesus out but to let the women in; to let the women in so that they could see and witness for themselves the empty tomb.

Tah dah!

Jesus is risen! Alleluia! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Jesus has been raised from the dead, the angel tells them.

Jesus has risen from the dead just as he said he would be, just as God had planned, just as the Scriptures foretold it, because the truth is that neither death, nor hell, nor the tomb itself, can hold Jesus, the Son of God, the Messiah, who came to set his people free in the most astonishing, perfect way possible.

This is good news for us. For the fear and joy, the pain of illness, and broken relationships, the reality of our vulnerability and the frailty of life, the victorious resurrection of Jesus is nothing short of a life-giving, world-changing miracle.

The angel sends these women to be messengers themselves, carrying a holy “Tah dah!” for the disciples of Christ. “Quickly!” He says, “Quickly go!” Go tell the disciples this wonderful news. Tell the disciples that Jesus has been raised from the dead! Tell them that Jesus is still on earth and even now he’s on the way to Galilee where he will meet them!

So the women, with a mix of fear and joy, rush down the road to share this good news with the disciples.

They don’t understand what has happened and danger still surrounds them. But there is compelling good news to share, and the women can’t wait to share it.

Jesus has risen! Alleluia! He has risen indeed! Alleluia!

And then, Jesus meets the Marys. On the road. On the way.

“Tah dah!”

The women immediately know him and they throw themselves to the ground and they take hold of his feet and they worship him.

In the whole of our gospel today, I think this is my favorite verse. It is a “tah dah” moment, this moment of recognition, where Jesus appears to the women and well, what can they do but fall to the earth? What would we do?

And yet in that moment, Jesus’ response isn’t all that profound “Greetings!” he says.

The women are overcome with joy and wonder and awe and fear, and Jesus is so nonchalant, “Hi!” he greets them.

In their amazement, they have to touch him. They grab onto his feet. He has died, and yet here he is standing in front of them, and he is real! They can feel him!

Tah dah!

I know if I were one of those women, I wouldn’t ever want to let go. There, on the road, still holding onto him, they worship him. They acknowledge him as their Lord.

Jesus repeats the message of the angel – go tell my brothers to go to Galilee, and there they will see me.

Jesus has risen! Alleluia! He has risen indeed! Alleluia!

The good news for us is in the details of the story. Jesus lives so that we will never die. Jesus lives so that we can live fully now and later. Jesus lives so that, though our lives contain both sadness and joy, guilt and shame, fear and wonder, we can be assured that Jesus is with us in and through it all.

This resurrection is ongoing, it is a daily reality, because Jesus is still defeating the powers of evil and death, still bringing us new life, and will bring us ultimately to life everlasting; knowing this makes all the difference in the world.  

We still meet God on the road, in miraculous and every day instances of goodness and joy, as comfort in our struggles, as healing and hope and forgiveness and steadfast love. God leads us constantly to new life through the power of the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Every time that we are up against a wall with no way out; or are suffering the betrayal of those we trusted; or confused about the ways of the world and the suffering we bear witness to, God shows us that these challenges, assaults and struggles are temporary. They will not defeat us. In every way that counts, Jesus is with us and in the power of the resurrection is holding us and making us strong.

            The mystery and power of the resurrection of Christ is the great Tah dah! of God’s compassion poured out for the world. In the mystical power of his love, we can be assured that whatever the future brings, God will strengthen us and empower us. Whatever fear, pain, or challenge we face, God promises that we will not face it alone.

Rather, God promises that there is nothing stronger than God’s love, and God proves it through the resurrection of Jesus Christ. For, since Christ has risen from the grave, nothing can keep us from God’s love and power to save.

            As Jesus met the women and as Jesus he will meet the disciples in Galilee, the risen Christ will meet us on all our journeys. The tomb is empty. Jesus reigns victorious over the grave. And so, it is with Easter joy and Easter confidence that we proclaim the great mystery of faith:       

Christ is Risen! Alleluia!  He is Risen indeed! Alleluia!