“You Are Always With Me And All That I Have Is Yours”

Sermon Text for March 18:
Luke 13:1-9

The sounds of the party were all around him. People were laughing, sharing stories, and generally having a good time. There were toasts and singing, and good natured ribbing. Everyone seemed at ease at the party except for him, he wasn’t in a party mood. The more he thought about it the more troubled he became, and he wondered why he had come to the party at all. He found a quiet corner in the small library off the main room where people were partying and began reading esoteric books about church law. The relative quiet of the library was soothing, but he couldn’t help hearing the laughter from the other room, and he didn’t like it. How could those people have such a good time?

He remembered with nostalgia when laboring among the Children of God brought joy to him. In those days celebration came easily and naturally because even work was invigorating. In those days he believed that his hard work was an investment in a better world, and maybe even a down payment on the Kingdom of God. But that seemed a lifetime ago. Sometimes he struggled to recapture the feeling of those earlier years, but the feeling was faint, a vanishing wisp, a phantom.

In his heart and mind he still tried to hold onto the values that he had when we started working in the family business. But inside he felt hollow and exhausted. Why were those people laughing? He felt so left out.

Sometimes he wondered if he had become the prodigal son. Certainly he felt distant from God. And yet he had not gone away into some far off country to wallow in sin. He had never denied God, and so far as he knew he had never conducted himself in a way that brought shame to the family. But still in his heart he knew that part of him had gone away to a place where God seemed absent.

It wasn’t that he abandoned the people of God. He was always with them, even when he was uncomfortable, like he was at this party. More than that, he seemed always to be in God’s house. He still worshiped every week and tended to God’s people. He still did his best to follow God’s law. But he was on automatic pilot working mindlessly and expending energy fruitlessly. Why were those people having such a good time?

He wanted to enter into the party and join the others in their laughter, but there seemed to be an unbreachable wall between himself and the others. He felt as if they knew some joyful news that they hadn’t shared with him. How else could he explain their joy and his numbness?

Do you recognize this man? He is the older brother, and a composite of people I know from across the Church. He is a pastor, an elder, a Sunday school teacher. He is the woman who always sits by herself in the back of the sanctuary, a choir member and a deacon. Some part of him is you and some parts are me. He is the older brother that Jesus talks about, who is incapable of entering into the joy of his Father.

Usually when we talk about the parable of the Prodigal Son we spend most of our time talking about the younger brother who behaves shamefully, wishes his father dead, runs off and looses his inheritance living an immoral life. We all feel good when the prodigal comes home because it helps us believe that one day the prodigals we know will come home and find redemption in God’s house.

But we don’t very often spend time talking about the older brother because he might just be us. And if that’s true then the lesson cuts too close to home. We don’t know too much about the older brother except that he is a good steady worker. If there is a field to be planted he is there. If hay needs cutting he is there. If the grass at the church needs trimming, or a class needs teaching, or the youth need one more sponsor for a trip, he or she is ready to step in. But don’t expect the older brother to be happy with rule breakers, people who have new ideas or those who want to do things differently.

The older brother works tirelessly for the good of God’s Kingdom and never admits that he wants a reward. We older brothers believe we work selflessly and that the work itself is its own reward. We do the work of God because the work is there to do, and it is a mark of our faithfulness.

But sometimes a disturbing, unsettling thought creeps into our minds, and before we know it our joy is replaced by anxiety. It says, “You deserve special recognition for the job you are doing. You really are more special than those others who don’t work as hard as you do. At the very least you ought to get you own way most of the time.” And suddenly if we are not careful we are no longer working for God, but for the special recognition that others give us. And that is the wrong focus – it is natural but it is wrong. If we work so that others will recognize us then the recognition becomes its own reward.

Jesus told the story of two brothers. One ran away from home and the other stayed. One lived an irresponsible, disgusting life, and the other was as steady as a rock. One ventured far from his Father geographically, spiritually, and emotionally. The other stayed physically close but created emotional and spiritual distance. One came to his senses and came home and the father celebrated with a lavish party. The other could not celebrate because in his heart he wanted some of the attention the other was getting. So he sat in the library during the party and reviewed books on Church Law, to see where he went wrong.

We older brothers and sisters sometimes find ourselves depleted. We are exhausted from always being there and carry thing the load while others benefit from our work. And sometimes someone else gets the reward that the tiniest voice inside us says belongs to us.

The Father’s words to the older brother are among the most moving in scripture, and if you are an older brother or sister then you should take them as God’s word to you. I know that I do. Friends, this is our recognition. The Father says, “Son, daughter, you are always with me, and all that I have is yours.”

We older siblings are always with God and the Kingdom belongs to us. Now there’s a reason to party!

Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock

Living in God's Purpose

Sermon Text for March 11:
Luke 13:1-9

What do you think about the Anna Nichole Smith story? It’s kind of disgusting in an irresistible way isn’t it? Even those of us who are not celebrity watchers were still drawn toward it for its lurid details. For weeks we wondered what juicy tidbit would be coming next. How did she juggle that many lovers? Did they know about each other? In the end of the day who is going to turn out to be the baby’s father? And just what killed her?

This story draws us because of what I call the “ick” factor. We read it and say to ourselves, “Ooh ick! What kind of person is she?” But “ick” sells, so several magazines are in print just to keep us in the know about people like Anna Nichole, even if we don’t really care. If there is an “ick factor” we want to read it, if only surreptitiously in the grocery line. And this has probably been going on forever. Our gospel lesson proves that.

One day some people approached Jesus with a horrifying story about devout believers whom Pilate killed as they were offering sacrifices to God. It was said that the blood of the worshippers mingled with the blood of their animal sacrifice and ran down the altar.

The story brought revulsion and disbelief. But it was the kind of story that people loved to repeat. How could God allow a sacred moment to be marred by something so terrible? The only way first century believers could make sense out of it was to conclude that the worshippers must have been terribly sinful.

But when Jesus heard the story, he turned it around on them so the focus was not on those who died but rather on those who told him the story. Instead of judging others, they were forced to examine their own lives. When told about the worshippers whom Pilate murdered He said, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all of the other Galileans because they suffered this way?” There was no question in the peoples’ minds, “Of course they were terrible sinners, perhaps the worst sinners. What other explanation could there be for what happened?” But Jesus had a different perspective, and turned the question around so that the gossips were invited to examine themselves. “No I tell you, they were not worse sinners, but unless you repent you will all likewise perish.”

Then to emphasize his point Jesus reminded them of another unbelievable tragedy. He said “Do you remember those eighteen upon whom the Tower of Siloam fell and killed them, do you suppose that they were worse sinners than all the other who lived in Jerusalem? No I tell you but unless you repent you will all likewise perish.”

So Jesus denounces the common idea that there is a relationship between sin and tragedy, but at the same time accentuates the need for all of us to repent. And there is a warning in his teaching that might have made his first century audience squirm. “Just because nothing tragic has befallen you, do not become complacent. Do not assume that everything is alright between you and God. Recognize your own need to repent!”

The word “repent” literally means to turn around and go a different direction, or to change one’s mind. In the faith context it means to turn from the attitudes and values of our culture and toward the perspective of the kingdom of heaven. So Jesus says to us as we journey into Lent, “Turn around and go a different direction! Turn from the path you are following and come toward me.”

To help the disciples understand this teaching he told the story about a fig tree that was planted in a vineyard that never bore fruit. After watching this worthless tree for years the owner of the vineyard ordered the tree cut down because it was wasting good soil. But the gardener argued for a reprieve saying, “Let’s wait a year and let me dig around it and fertilize it. If it bears fruit after that then well and good. If not then we can remove it.”

In ancient Judaism the vineyard is always the symbol for the community of faith – the chosen people. Sometimes God is depicted as the owner of the vineyard and sometimes as the gardener. In this parable God is the owner of the vineyard who is growing more and more impatient as he waits for the tree to bear fruit. The gardener talks the owner into one more year of life for the tree as he gives it special attention.

The message is clear. God wants us to bear fruit, to be productive. It is not enough for us to be simply taking up space, marking time, or passing along juicy stories. We are called to be productive citizens of the Kingdom of God.

As we move through Lent let us repent of judging others as being more or less sinful than we are. Let us repent of taking up space in God’s garden while not being productive. And let us welcome the Savior’s nurture and care as he prepares us to live up to our purpose in life. Jesus wants us to live as if we are on borrowed time. It is time we have been given to bear fruit for the kingdom of God.

Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock

Forgiving and Forgiven

Sermon Text for March 4:
Mark 2:1-11

The memory was hazy, but each image brought anxious pains to his stomach and he felt nauseous. It couldn’t really have happened could it? Surely even in a drunken rage he would never do something like that! But the images kept flashing relentlessly in his memory. The images were not complete, just a flicker every now and then.

Nevertheless the images were distressing. He saw himself raging at his son and he could still see the look of terror on his son’s face. He couldn’t quite remember the words he was screaming, but the mental picture made him ashamed. He saw his son running away, rushing out of the house and into the street. Why was he running? Didn’t he know that fathers never hurt their sons?

His heart was pleading, “Please God let this be another nightmare!” But something told him it was real. He saw himself jumping into the car and trying to stop his son. No ... it was more than that ... he was trying to run over him. O God! How could this be? The son ran into the field at the end of the street and ducked down in the tall weeds. And to his horror the father remembered driving into the weeds trying to run over his son.

The images and memories kept coming. And the man heard himself praying, “O God, I am so sorry! Can you ever forgive me?” But it didn’t really make any difference because the man knew he would never forgive himself. He knew that he would carry these images and memories with him to the grave.

Forgiveness is one of the themes for the Lenten season. During this time we become introspective and remember what is lacking in our spiritual lives. Often what we lack has something to do with forgiving and being forgiven. Sometimes looking at ourselves can be painful, but believers can do it because we trust in the amazing grace of Jesus. We know that no matter how painful the memory, he is with us all the way. Even so these journeys are difficult because many of us have a real problem with forgiveness.

I told you the true story of the drunken father dealing with the hurt he caused because the things that most of us have done probably seem small by comparison. His courage in looking at himself can encourage us to examine our sin more honestly.
But here is a question: Can someone like the drunken father be forgiven? Not only were several laws broken – drunk driving, assault, child abuse, attempted murder, but both father and son are traumatized many years later. If it were in your power, would you forgive the father? Many of us will discover that what we feel is opposed to what the scriptures teach.

Biblically speaking, forgiveness is letting go of, releasing, or covering sin so that it no longer has an effect on our lives. So when forgiveness is real we experience liberation, graciousness, and freedom. And the sin no longer has power over us.

The scriptures teach that there is only one unforgivable sin. But there is not a unified explanation on how forgiveness is received. Sometimes forgiveness is given without repentance and without it being asked for and at other times penitence seems necessary. So for example in the second chapter of Mark a paralyzed man is forgiven and healed without his being penitent or confessing.

When Jesus hung dying on the cross he looked down at his murderers and prayed, “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.” Again there is no penitence or even any sense that they are doing something wrong. Jesus set the bar high for his followers when in a gracious act he offers forgiveness while the crime is being committed.

But sometimes forgiveness and confession seem to go hand in hand. When John the Baptizer invited people to come for baptism he said, “Repent and be baptized for the forgiveness of sin.” So John believed that in order to receive baptism the believer needed to be sorry for sin.

So back to the question: Can the father in the story be forgiven? Or more personally, if you were the son would you forgive your father? Are there people in your own life that you simply cannot forgive?

My challenge to you is to use this Lenten Season to ponder the things for which you need forgiveness, and believe in your heart that you are forgiven. Then think about those persons you have yet to forgive. Ask God for the grace to be like Jesus, and to forgive as you have been forgiven. We can start the journey toward forgiveness today, right now during this communion service. As you receive the elements experience God’s forgiving love and offer a prayer forgiving others.

Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock