Lent 4, 2013
Well today it appears that we have
quite a lot going on in our readings. First, we have the story of Israel
finally emerging from their 40 year excursion through the Wilderness, and
taking possession of the land that was promised to them.
Next, we have in the second letter
to the Corinthians the reminder that in Christ we’re not to see one another
only from a human perspective—but to see one another as new creations.
Finally, in our Gospel reading, we
hear the familiar story of the Prodigal Son; this parable about squandered
wealth, and a return to unconditional love (a pretty good story, really).
Anyway, with all of these seemingly
disconnected themes floating around, I’ve decided that it would be a fantastic
idea to preach on all three of the readings.
Now, for the sake of our visitors,
I have to say that I do not regularly do this sort of thing. And for the sake
of all of us, I promise not to be too long winded (please hold your applause).
So, as I mentioned, there are a lot
of themes in our readings, but it’s my hope that once I’ve given some context
for each of them, a singular theme will begin to emerge—namely that seeing
God’s work of grace takes on-going practice. (So, we’ll see if we get there…)
As you may remember from the story
of the Exodus, Israel had spent about 40 years wandering in the Wilderness.
There was a lot that happened over those 40 years, as you could imagine—and we
can gather from the text that it wasn’t really the easiest of times for God’s
People. They complained a lot. There were bandits—armies—snakes (probably even
spiders), but even in the midst of all of that, God still took care of them.
Interestingly enough, while Israel
may have remembered this time as bitter; God seems to have remembered it as a
kind of honeymoon. After all, this was the first (and perhaps the last) time
that God had the people together without any distractions. This was the time
when God called Israel to be God’s People—so, this was a very special and
intimate time.
It was just too hard for the people
to see that fact; because, I suppose, sometimes when you’re being chased by
bandits, armies, snakes and spiders; it’s a little difficult to really take
stock of God’s providence…
But the big finish comes when this
young man hits rock bottom and decides to return home to beg for any job he
could on his father’s land. After all, he knew that even the people with the
worst jobs on his father’s payroll were treated better than he was being
treated by that point.
To his surprise, when he returned,
his father welcomed him with open arms, and even threw a party.
Meanwhile, when the young man’s
brother shows up after a hard day’s work and finds his lousy brother back, and
a party in his honor happening—well, he’s less than thrilled. He even stands
outside and pouts.
In the end his father comes out to
him and tries to console him by explaining that it’s as if his brother had been
dead and returned to life—and this was certainly something to celebrate.
Even though we don’t see any
resolution with the brother, we might hope that he sees the wisdom in his
father’s words and goes in to welcome his brother.
Unfortunately though, like most of
Scripture, this Second Letter to the Corinthians doesn’t leave a lot of room for
us to hold on to our angst—no matter how justified we may feel.
The writer (probably St. Paul)
begins by stating clearly that our perspectives of one another are to be
changed. We’re not supposed to hold grudges, or keep score on those who have
been redeemed by the same Jesus Christ who redeemed all of us.
This sounds like a very good
thing…the trouble, however, is that we’re human. We’ve always been human; we’ll
always be human. After all, that’s what we were created to be—and God even
called our creation “good” along with everything else.
However, while we’ve been made new
creations in Christ (as Paul says), there is no sense that we should
immediately be really good at seeing things in the proper way. In other words,
we shouldn’t expect everything to just ‘click,’ especially trying to see God’s
grace in every situation.
Now, I had already heard of this
test, and knew what to expect—so, it probably wasn’t fair. However, if I didn’t
know what to expect—it’s likely that I would have missed this bear moonwalking
through the group of basketball players.
The point was that we often don’t
always perceive everything that’s happening—especially if we’ve been told to
look for a specific thing. In those situations, we suddenly get tunnel vision
and miss quite a lot.
But what if we could learn to be attentive
to things like bears moonwalking through basketball players? I suppose we might
even be able to learn to recognize God’s grace—whether we’re running from
bandits snakes and spiders, or welcoming back our good-for-nothing siblings.
So, the question is, how do we
learn such a thing as spiritual perception and perspective?
Well, I think that we do this a
couple of ways.
I for one know my own potential to
be a pretty terrible person. So when I realize that I can always, under any
condition, return again to God’s house, and God’s table…well, it gives me some
perspective about being more patient with others as well.
Another thing that we have to do is
be intentional about being in a community of faith. Without sharing the stories
of our faith, and being reminded about how these stories connect to our
own—it’s easy to lose hope. It’s easier to lose sight of what is essential, and
it’s easier to feel that we’re alone when things are difficult.
The point is that we can’t learn
how to be perceptive of God’s grace immediately, and we can’t learn it on our
own. Because on one hand, it takes time to be able to begin to discern even the
smallest places where God shows up in our lives. On the other hand, it’s
difficult for a fish to know it’s wet, just like it’s hard for us to always be
mindful of how much grace surrounds us.
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