Sinners and tax collectors

Lent 4, Year C, RCL




Each Monday before I preach, I dig in to the Scriptures of the day. I prefer to do that from a Bible because I think it's important to know what happens on either side of the Scripture reading we hear read in worship. As I'm reading it, I have a bit of an internal dialogue as I ponder the Scripture and this important question: What does the Holy Spirit want the people of God to hear from these texts on this occasion? So here's a little of what my internal dialogue was like earlier this week:

Joshua -- Good stuff about God keeping promises. I like this scene... Maybe it will be good for the Children's Homily...
The Psalm -- I don't usually preach on the Psalm, but I wonder... No, this piece about "Do not be a horse or a mule..." that won't fly.
Second Corinthians -- Great spring-time reading, "If anyone is Christ, there is a new creation."
Ok... I wonder what the Gospel reading is... 

At this point, my internal dialogue became an external, um, groan, when I bellowed "THE PRODIGAL SON!?!? AGAIN!?! REALLY?!?!
Cortney comes in my office ask if everything is Ok, and I say, "I feel like I draw this passage every year!"

My amazing assistant reminded me that this passage only comes up once every three years in our lectionary, always on this, the 4th Sunday of Lent. I did a quick "trust but verify" research to find out she's right. (But I still feel like I get this passage every year!)

I'd be lying if I said I didn't ponder every possible angle with all of the other Scripture lessons, but nothing struck home the way the lesson from Luke did.The Prodigal Son is one of those passages that we only hear once every 156 Sundays or so, and yet the story is such a part of our culture, eve extending beyond the sacred and into the secular. So when the lectionary serves up a well-known story such as this, like a low-hanging curve ball over home plate, you have to take a swing at it. 

This story has been hashed out and cut up and dissected in more ways than one could possibly imagine. I would venture to guess that the story of the Prodigal Son has been looked at in more ways than any of Jesus' feeding miracles. I know hat I have heard it preached (and maybe you have too!) from the perspective of the father, the un-mentioned mother, either or both of the brothers' perspectives, from the perspective of the servants, Jesus' hearers at the time, and even one desperate attempt to preach from the perspective of the fatted calf. And if yo u want to hear more about those angles (except may the calf one...) I'm glad to sit down and talk with you about any or all of them. 

But as I wrestled and tussled with this passage this week, I kept coming back to those first two verses, where Luke tells us why Jesus told this parable to begin with:

"All the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to Jesus. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them."

The Prodigal Son story is the longest of three stories that follow the introduction. Before he gets there, he tells the story of the lost sheep and the shepherd who leaves the 99 other sheep to go after the one. And the story of the woman who turns over her whole house to find the one lost silver coin of the 10 she had. "Truly I tell you," Jesus says, "There will be more rejoicing in heaven on that day when one sinner repents than for those who do not need to repent."

Then Jesus moves into this famous story, this scandalous story of a younger son demanding his inheritance and then squandering it to such a degree that he realizes his father's servants have it better than he does. So he goes back home, and Jesus adds to the scandal by having the father not only accept his son, but to restore him to his place in the family and in the community and throw him a party. And of course, the older sibling throws a fit because... well, we all know the younger sibling gets away with everything. 

In telling these three parables, Jesus does some pretty amazing things. In the first two, the ones about the lost sheep and the lost coin, Jesus uses lost and found as key words. In this story, at the end, TWICE the father uses the words dead and alive. The first two were about items that while they have value, are not nearly as valuable as the person, the sinner, the tax collector, the dealer, the con artist, who turns their life back to God. 

Jesus tells this story, not because everyone around him was righteous and upright, but because the sinners and tax collectors heard in Jesus' message something that fed their souls, that made them might actually believe they were worthy of whatever this Kingdom of God that had come near may be. For the sinners and tax collectors of our day, whether their deceit happens on the streets or a board room or in their own home, the message of this story of the Prodigal  Son is one each of us sinners and tax collectors need to hear: That the grace of God in Jesus makes a way for us all to be new creations, to be reconciled to God, as the Apostle Paul wrote. The sinners and tax collectors in Jesus' audience most likely heard a reflection of the grace and reconciliation they had already found in Jesus' preaching. 

I wonder if we can do the same. Or have we lifted ourselves up to the point that we feel like the eldest son, who has worked and worked yet had those us a party?  It would be perfectly natural to find yourself feeling both at various points in your life. But whether we have put ourselves up on a pedestal or are walling in pig slop, we are never, as Jesus teaches us today, beyond the reconciling grace of God.

My favorite part of the Prodigal Son story is probably the most scandalous. When the younger son comes to his senses, he practices this speech, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands." On the road home, he probably practiced it a thousand or more times. Yet as he gets the first part of the statement out of his mouth, the father says, "Bring out the robe -- the best one! -- and put the ring on his finger so everyone will know he is a member of this family! And prepare a party like we haven't had in years!" 

When we turn our hearts back towards God, God does the same thing for us. 

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Every start has a beginning

The First Sunday after the Epiphany

Everything has a starting point. The road trip. The swim meet. The concert. The ministry to which God has called us. Everything has that defining moment where we can say, “It started here.”

The key goes in the ignition, and the car pulls out of the driveway. The sound is heard, and the swimmers dive into the water. The first note gets played to the thrill and anticipation of adoring fans. The first encounter of serving Christ by serving others. And the journey, the race, the concert, the ministry starts.

Or does it?

Before it can start, it has to have a beginning.

Long before the key can go in the ignition, the trip has to be planned. Locations researched, reservations made, or at least a quick text to see if someone has a sofa you can crash on. The weather checked, clothes packed. Arrangements made so the mail and the newspapers don’t pile up and our pets are cared for while we are away.

For the swimmers, the race doesn’t begin when the horn sounds. It beings when they first learn to get in the water and swim on their own. It begins when they find out they might be a little faster or have a little better stroke than their peers and that it’s actually fun to propel yourself through the water, and you find yourself working harder and harder to get better and better.

The concert began long before the lights went down on the stage. Whether it’s Mozart and Chopin being performed in a concert hall or Taylor Swift at PNC Arena, the concert began when the musicians were first so moved by the music that they had to help make it themselves, and they began to work (sometimes joyfully, and sometimes not) to hone their craft to the point that they can share that sound with thousands of people at once.

What we often think of as “the starting point” is rarely the true beginning.

By now, you have probably figured out that the ministry to which each of us is called did not start when we got involved in that ministry. It began even before the waters of Baptism washed over our heads, and we were marked as Christ’s Own for Ever.

The First Sunday after the Epiphany is when we celebrate the Baptism of Jesus, an event marked in unique ways in each of the Gospels. Christian tradition holds that this marks the starting point of Jesus’ earthly ministry. In fact, if our Gospel lesson today had gone one verse further, we would have heard Luke tell us, “Jesus was about 30 years old when he began his work.”

But did Jesus’ ministry begin at his Baptism? Or did it begin well before that? “In the beginning, was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God,” John’s Gospel tells us. Long before the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us in the person of Jesus, the work of the Word of God was being done in the world. So that by the time Jesus was born and was of age to begin his earthly ministry, a foundation had been laid. Whether the people were ready or not, the precedent had been set for someone to speak on behalf of God and share the Good News of God’s love for the world.

It’s worth noting that in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, before Jesus says, “The Kingdom of God has come near!” he spends sometime in the wilderness, away from other people and the business of life. He’s tempted to run away from his calling and his ministry, but instead he keeps his focus on God and the work to which God is preparing him for. We will hear more about that episode from Luke 4 on the First Sunday of Lent, February 14.

We mark two very different, yet related, events in the life of our parish today, two events that mark the start of something, but not necessarily the beginning. At the 8:45 service, we Baptize Avery Ruth Witten, the daughter of Hank and Liz, the sister of Zach, the granddaughter of Alice and Myra. As their family friend, the Rev. Steve Miller, pours the water over Avery’s head and she becomes a full member of the church, she will, in many real ways, begin her ministry as a follower of Christ. I would contend that the impact of her ministry began when Hank & Liz first started thinking about bringing a child into the world, and maybe even before that. Avery will be supported in her Christian faith and life by all of us, so in many ways, her ministry began when you and I were Baptized, too.

At the 11:00 service, we formally install the 2016 Vestry, who spent Friday and Saturday in retreat at Trinity Center to consider the work ahead of us in the year to come. The ministry of each Vestry member did not begin when they were elected, or even when they arrived at Trinity Center on Friday afternoon. It began even before they agreed to have their name submitted to this parish family for a vote. Their ministry first began when they heard the call or felt the nudge from the Almighty to be a part of the Church, that sacred and wonderful institution that reminds us we are part of something so much bigger than ourselves. I am very thankful for the many gifts and passions of this Vestry, and that they have chosen to answer this call to Baptismal ministry at Christ Church. It is an understatement to say that no two people on this Vestry are alike, and in that variety, they bring so many of the things we need for leadership in this parish.

I hope it goes without saying that they are not the only 12 people at Christ Church who are exercising their Baptismal ministry in this place and in the community. Each of us has a ministry rooted in our Baptism. Our readings from the Gospels over the next few weeks will be about Who Jesus Is and how he is revealed to the world around him. I hope that as you listen to those readings, you will consider not only what your Baptismal ministry is, but how God led you to that ministry, and what ministries God may be preparing you for as well. Epiphany is an outstanding time to rededicate ourselves to both the main task as followers of Jesus which is spreading the light of Christ in the world around us and to the ministries to which we are called.

We may even find that we start something new, but something that began long ago.

Be better where you are

Advent 3, Year C         

          So, John the Baptist… I imagine he’d be the real “life of the party” if he showed up. People would start hearing things about “vipers” and “axes at the roots of the trees,” and they’d look around say, “Who invited that guy!?” He message stands in contrast to our other Scripture readings today, too. This is the Sunday of Joy; we call it “Guadete” Sunday from the Latin word for “rejoice.” That’s part of why we light the rose candle, to remind us in this season of preparation, there is much to be joyful for. And then we have this encounter with John the Baptist. If he were at your dinner party, and people stuck around a few minutes, they might realize that John doesn’t just call out the bad behavior, but gives his hearers a way forward as well.

            The masses to which John was teaching and preaching were an occupied people, thirsty, starving for some Good News. They were like a flock without a shepherd, and here comes John to offer some hope to them. He calls on them not only to bear fruit, but fruit worthy of repentance. They might not have known what “fruit worthy of repentance” looked like or tasted like or what tree it grew on, but I bet that he said it in a way that made them want to know more.

            John calls people to repentance a lot in the short time he’s in the Gospels. Repentance means literally to “turn around;” to change our ways, to alter our ways of thinking and acting and working.Repentance isn’t about looking back at the wrong of the past and saying, “We’ll try not to do that again.” And it’s not about looking back on those wrongs and injustices and beating ourselves up about them, either. Bearing fruit worthy of repentance means looking back on the wrongs of the past, whether as a community or as individuals, and then looking forward to the future, about how we will learn from those sins and live a different life, as a people transformed and forgiven in God’s grace!

            The Good News of John, and later Jesus, is that we are not left to figure out that fruit worthy of repentance all by ourselves. God has never left humanity to figure it out on our own, and doesn’t here either. It’s important to note that John doesn’t wave a magic wand and say, “Everything is better now!” I mean, it would be nice if he did, wouldn’t it? But God doesn’t do that, because God wants us to grow, and in order to grow, we have to do that work.

            How many times have you said, or have you heard someone else say, “Oh! If God would just TELL ME what I’m supposed to do! Write it in the sky! Booming voice from above! Text me! Something!” (In my line of work, I probably hear that a lot more than most, but I will also admit that I’ve said it once or twice, too!)

            It begs the question, though, Whatever God said to us, would we do it? Because so often, we KNOW, deep down in our hearts, what it is we are supposed to do. But it scares us. Shakes us to our core. Leaves us paralyzed and unable to actually do it. Think about the story of the rich, young ruler in Luke 18. He asks Jesus, “What must I do to inherit eternal life? I’m a good guy, I’ve kept all the commandments, and did I mention, I’m a good guy!” Jesus says, “Yes, I heard that you’re a good guy, and thanks for keeping all the commandments. But you need to sell what you have and give the money to the poor.” Luke tells us that the man went away sad because he was very wealthy. We don’t know what happened to him after this encounter, but in that moment, he is unable to turn himself around and do what God in the person of Jesus just told him to do.

            John’s hearers, after the parts about vipers and axes, ask, “What should we do.” Three times, they ask, “What should we do?” This is a powerful moment in Luke’s Gospel and in John’s exchange with the people. Not only do the oppressed but even the oppressors ask, “What should we do?”          

            The first group that asks “what should we do” are the very people that John was blasting for thinking they were good enough because they have Abraham as their ancestor. John doesn’t tell them to abandon their faith. He tells them to live their faith, the faith that was passed down from Abraham and Moses; that the one in need is a higher priority than our own self-preservation. The tax collectors are the next group to ask. You know about the tax collectors, right? They didn’t earn a living by collecting taxes, so they had to pad their collections practices to make money. Sometimes they went back for more, claiming to have “forgotten” that they’d already made that round. Beyond that, most tax collectors were citizens of Israel and employees of Rome. So not only were they in-between both worlds, they weren’t really liked by their fellow Jews and tolerated by the Romans. Yet they were seeking repentance: How could they do better going forward? And John tells them: “Collect no more than prescribed for you.” No stealing, cheating, blackmailing, or doing what ‘everyone else is doing.’ And then there’s the soldiers, who have nothing to wield but power, and yet seem aware that there is a larger message to which they need to respond. “And what should we do?” they also ask. No deception, John tells them. No threats or extortion or coercion.

            Luke does not tell us how the people who asked actually responded, either in the moment or in the weeks and months following. But in that moment, all three groups of people faced the same question and opportunity we all face every day: To turn our lives away for our own self-interest, to live for others (whether or not we know them, whether or not they can return the favor). John the Baptist give his hearers then and now a chance to do ordinary acts of grace. There is no call ot heroic measures or abandoning everything you’ve known. John calls them to stay where they are, but to be a different person where they are. This Gospel lesson reminds us to be where God has called us to be, but to look forward to be the best we can where we are. John seems to be telling us that by being where we are, our seemingly ordinary lives can be steeped with the extra-ordinary spirit of God to transform the world. And who cares how many people notice. We aren’t doing this to make headlines or be on the six o’clock news. We are out to serve God by serving the people whom God loves so dearly.

            What then should we do?

            Wen we are sorely hindered by our sins (and fears) as our Collect today says, we should look outward, not inward. We should look in our closet and see if we have a coat or belt or shoes that someone else may need. When we are at the grocery store, we can pick up one of the items on the RCS Food and Stuff list (cereal & soap for December!). We can be honest in our dealings with others, and not tolerate dishonesty when we see it. It’s not the big things that will show people we are followers of Jesus. It’s not by the big things that we will make the world ready for the 2^nd Coming of Christ. If we are willing to turn our hearts and our minds and our eyes towards God, we will see how God is acting in our midst, and we’ll see where we can do something seemingly small that can change the world.