Christ the King Sunday

Sermon delivered at Grace UMC on November 24, 2013

Christ the King Sunday

Jeremiah 23:1-6 (NIV)

(1) “Woe to the shepherds who are destroying and scattering the sheep of my pasture!” declares the Lord.

(2) Therefore this is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says to the shepherds who tend my people: “Because you have scattered my flock and driven them away and have not bestowed care on them, I will bestow punishment on you for the evil you have done,” declares the Lord.

(3) “I myself will gather the remnant of my flock out of all the countries where I have driven them and will bring them back to their pasture, where they will be fruitful and increase in number.

(4) I will place shepherds over them who will tend them, and they will no longer be afraid or terrified, nor will any be missing,” declares the Lord.

(5) “The days are coming,” declares the Lord, “when I will raise up to David a righteous Branch, a King who will reign wisely and do what is just and right in the land.

(6) In his days Judah will be saved and Israel will live in safety. This is the name by which he will be called: The Lord Our Righteousness.”

Colossians 1:11-20

New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

11 May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully 12 giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled[a] you[b] to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light. 13 He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, 14 in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.[c]

15 He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; 16 for in[d] him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. 17 He himself is before all things, and in[e] him all things hold together. 18 He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. 19 For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, 20 and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.

Luke 23:33-43

New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

33 When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus[a] there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. [[34 Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.”]][b] And they cast lots to divide his clothing. 35 And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah[c] of God, his chosen one!” 36 The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, 37 and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” 38 There was also an inscription over him,[d] “This is the King of the Jews.”

39 One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding[e] him and saying, “Are you not the Messiah?[f] Save yourself and us!” 40 But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” 42 Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into[g] your kingdom.” 43 He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

This week has been quite an emotional enterprise for many people. In fact, as I began preparing for the sermon earlier on in the week, it became apparent that I had to really wait until later on in this week to find the right words to speak today. This is a week that has had some major remembrances and some major occurrences. While it may be tempting to not bring to mind some things that have happened this week, I know it would not be responsible if I were to just ignore them, no matter how hard they may be to talk about.

Some of the events this week are remembered by some of you because you lived through them. The assassination of President Kennedy is one of those “key” moments that, for those who lived through it, stay burned in your memory and you can recall exactly what you were doing that day, 50 years ago. My mother, I know, was in 2nd grade and she can tell me exactly what transpired that day for her. My father, in much the same was was just shy of 15 years old. Much like September 11 for those of my generation, it is a day that remains imprinted on our psyches, etched forever into the memory of our lives in a way that brings us to remember, to recollect, to feel a connection between then and now. It is part of who we are, no matter how close or how far we may have been from the actual event.

No one here was alive that day 150 years ago this week when President Lincoln spoke those famous words just a short drive away from where we sit this morning. We have no actual recollection of that day, but the words spoken, the emotions that war bring to mind, the idea that we are to honor those who sacrifice for the greater good, all of that stays with us. We have heard those words dozens if not hundreds of times. I remember in the fifth grade, when each kid in my class had to memorize that speech and stand in front of the class and recite it. I don’t know if they make kids do that anymore, but I hope they do. Especially in our world that is increasingly electronic, there is a lot to be learned from forcing ourselves to test the limits of our own memory, of our own abilities, to participate, even in a minimal way, with the events of our collective past. It helps us to tie together the past and the present, and in a way, helps us go from that past through that present and into that future which awaits us all.

We may know what Lincoln looked like from the various paintings and some of the photographs we have of him. We know that Kennedy looked like, we know what he sounded like. In the US, we don’t have kings, we have no one that, by right of birth or ancestry is chosen to lead the country as its ruler. To some extent, the closest examples we have of this is Lincoln and Kennedy. Not because they wanted that distinction, but because their legacy left such a lasting effect on the country that their lives speak to more than just their relatively short time in politics and their relatively short lives, both ending violently as the result of a hatred for difference and a fear of the change that comes from people standing up and saying to the powers that be, “No more will we stand for that which is wrong, no more will we wait by while others are denied their humanity because of distinction that humans make or because of how they were born, what color their skin may be or property rules that are not in line with the better angels of our nature, the better ideals that our faith represents.”

This week we also heard of the church trial of a member of our own denomination, again a small drive down the road for an act that he undertook. We may or may not agree with his action, and it technically may be against “church law”, yet what we must also understand that he acted according to a conviction that his faith brought him. We don’t always agree with how others interpret faith, especially if they interpret it differently than we do. I do not intend to stand here this morning and defend the actions of this particular member of the clergy, nor to I intend to stand here and rail against his action as being “unchristian.” My point is merely that, at no point in history have we all agreed on issues of doctrine or dogma. Expecting us to all agree at this stage in the development of Christ’s church is both unrealistic and downright dangerous. Doing so brings us to a point where we use the lesser angels of our nature while claiming a righteousness that in reality is nothing more than blind rancor.

Today is the last Sunday of the church year. Next Sunday we will gather together to celebrate, once again, that magical season of Advent and over the next couple of weeks, we will gather to celebrate the awaited arrival of that holy Baby, the Christ Child, who came incarnate into our world. We celebrate the arrival of a God who loves us so much that he came to us himself, incarnate, because it was the only way for us to truly believe and fathom and understand how very much we are loved by that God himself. Yet, today the church year ends. So, how do we tie together the end of one church year and the beginning of the next? The great thing about the church calendar is that it is, in a certain way, circular. We end where we begin. Christ, the King. Maybe it is not the best image to use in reference to Jesus Christ. We call him a King because that is the image used historically. Yet, it is not an image that speaks to us the way it may have spoken to those early saints of the church.

So why am I trying to say that an image that worked for the church for thousands of years may not be the best image for us? Simple, the idea or image that comes to mind when we think of a King is a person who is separate, higher, aloof, and many times ignorant of the needs of the inhabitants of the Kingdom. We do have royalty in our world. Not only do we have royalty, we still hold them in very high regard. Even here in the US, where we stand for independence and democracy, we still look on royalty with an infatuation that doesn’t match up with our rhetoric. We are amazed at the weddings of the royals of the British Crown, the birth of their babies, the downfalls of their morality. Just about every little girl, my own daughter included, dreams of being a princess, or honestly believe that they truly are. Yet, we will stand on the corner and argue for hours about how a love for royalty will be the downfall of any modern republic.

Even here, the Kennedy family has been called, more than once, as America’s Royal Family. We know their travails, the ups and downs of their lives. We rejoice at the births of their babies and we cry along when one of them suffers tragedy. Yet, comparing Christ to this is not an image that really makes sense for our time and place. Christ is the King in the sense that, as God, there is nothing that isn’t under His control, His power, His presence. Yet, Christ is not the King in the sense that He is in it for his own gain, his own ends, his own thirst for power. We know this because His power came about in a very different way. It came about by being born, not in a palace with the best linens and servants to take care of every need, but in a stable, in a cave on the outskirts of a city, surrounded by his earthly parents as well as cows, donkeys, and maybe some random chickens clucking around. And it ended, at least in the earthly sense, not on a bed of gold surrounded by his riches and admirers, but rather, nailed on a cross, hung high for all to see, as those few who knew and loved him gathered together on the ground before him, weeping at the loss of this, their leader, their friend, a member of their family. This is not the birth or death we would expect from a King.

But, it is the birth and death of the one who proves that we are all God’s children and that God loves us so much that he is willing to intervene in the world in a way that we can understand, in a way that tells us that we can participate with this King in service, in sacrifice and in love for each and every other child of God that we encounter. That is the good news today. That despite our disagreements, despite the divisions present in this life, despite the hatred and anger and violence that we allow to infiltrate our lives, God is there with us. He is there with us because he loves us, because he wants us to claim the identity that he has given each and every one of us. God is real, that is the message today. God is real. God is real in a way that helps us through those difficult moments, through those difficult days in our lives. God is real and God is there. I would like to close with a story that, I think, speaks volumes to seeing God, to understanding God, and to trusting God as we should. This is what it looks like when we allow ourselves to not only to gather together to worship Him weekly, but we allow ourselves to experience this king in our world, in our struggle and through our difficulties.

Many of you have heard the name Frank Deford. He is a columnist for Newsweek and he is a sports and culture commentator on National Public Radio. He has also written a number of books, most of which are about sports, but not all. This is a story that he tells in one of his books, called, “The Life of a Child.”

Deford writes, “My daughter, Alexandria, died of cystic fibrosis when she was just eight years old. I know it helped all of us that we believed that Jesus was going to be there where she was going. That mattered. It’s all very grand - and spiritual - to expound something like Alex would be with God, but that is something hard to grasp.

But Jesus, whatever his parentage, had been a person, one of us. If we didn’t know for sure what He looks like, if He really wasn’t tall and slim and sandy-haired and blue-eyed, the way the great artists would have him, at least we have grown familiar with WHO the man is. You could deal with Jesus the way you finally meet someone who you’ve talked to a lot on the phone. You may be surprised at your phone friend’s appearance, but you KNOW that person, so looks are incidental.

You see, when a child dies - when Alex died - she has a special problem. The child is not just leaving one place for another. She is going to be alone in that new place. In fact, when Alex died it was going to be the first time she’d ever been alone. That was why Jesus meant so much to her - and to all of us - her parents and her brother, too.

An hour or so before she died, when she knew the end was close, she suddenly said, ‘Which way do I go?’ Maybe she just meant something simple like, ‘What’s the best place to turn my head now?’ But we had been talking about heaven, and I took some kind of deeper meaning. So I replied, ‘Any way you and God think is best, Alex.’

But, with what little energy was left to her, right away, she wanted a clarification. ‘And Jesus too, Daddy?’ she asked. Urgently.

She knew Jesus, and if He were there, she was comfortable that she would be taken care of.

After that, the abstraction of Jesus, the Son of God, the Jesus Saves and all that, was crystallized for me into something much more vivid. Even now, I see Him there to welcome Alex, to show her the ropes in this new place and to make sure she felt at home.”(Sullivan, et al., 1996)

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Sullivan, Robert, and Frank Deford. "He Is All Things to All Men." 1996. Who Do You Say That I Am?: Reflections on Jesus in Our World Today. New York: Macmillan USA, 1996. 100-01. Print.

As part of my studies in seminary, I have to take preaching classes, of course, it is school for preaching after all. The following was written for a class and then was given at Grace UMC in York on November 17, 2013. 

Romans 10:5-15 (NRSV)

(5) Moses writes concerning the righteousness that comes from the law, that “the person who does these things will live by them”

(6) But the righteousness that comes from faith says, “Do not say in your heart, ‘Who will ascend into heaven?’ (that is, to bring Christ down)

(7) or ‘Who will descend into the abyss?’” (that is, to bring Christ up from the dead).

(8) but what does it say? “The word is near you, on your lips and in your heart” (that is, the word of faith that we proclaim);

(9) because if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.

(10) For one believes with the heart and so is justified, and one confesses with the mouth and so is saved.

(11) The scripture says, “No one who believes in him will be put to shame.”

(12) For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; the same Lord is Lord of all and is generous to all who call on him.

(13) For, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.”

(14) But how are they to call on one in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him?

(15) And how are they to proclaim him unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!”

If you ever have the chance, I encourage you to take a trip to the small Central American country of Nicaragua. Despite what you may think of this backwater, impoverished country and its complicated and difficult past, the truth is that if your heart and your mind are open, you will see some of the most amazing things you could imagine. Let me set the scene. You arrive at the airport in Managua, and after a day or so adjusting to the tropical heat and amazing cuisine, you head off to towards the thing that you have really come to see. If you are lucky you can catch a bus. Now, this bus will probably be way too full, you might have to share a seat with three or four other people, if you can find one at all. There’s even a chance that sitting next to you is a cage with two or three live chickens. Don’t be too alarmed, this is very much to be expected, just keep an open mind.

If you travel northwest of Managua a few hours, you will eventually get to an intersection with not much there except the highway and a gravel road leading up into the mountains. If you have called first, someone can be there to meet you. They will put you in the cart that is attached to the tractor and they will begin the ascent. Enjoy the ride, travelling like this up through the mountains, you will be blessed with amazing views of this tropical rainforest. After forty minutes or so, you will arrive at the top, past many of the clouds. When you get off the cart, you can walk around this small little hamlet. There is not much here. About half a dozen houses, a few barns, and one main community building. Everything else is just forest for as far as you can see. It is likely that some children from the community will come out to greet you. They will want to play games, they may ask you for some candy, and they will take to you to the main building where you can meet with the adults in charge. You see, this isn’t any old backwater village. You are standing in one of the most amazing coffee plantations you will ever see.

Now, coffee plantations may be a dime a dozen in places like Nicaragua, but this one is different. The entire plantation works together to get the job done. Every person has a job. Some tend the fields, some prepare the meals, some teach the children, some serve as doctors or nurses or even clergy. But there is more. This particular plantation is made up of three different types of people. In the seventies and eighties, Nicaragua was in a constant state of war. I don’t want to go into details, but in this civil war there were really three separate factions. First, there were the Sandinistas, the revolutionaries. They were fighting the government’s forces, the National Guard, who in many ways served as the dictators death squads. Lastly, there were the Contras, or the counterrevolutionaries. These were mainly impoverished rural dwellers who were supported in funds and weapons from the US and other western powers who were, for right or for wrong, fighting the threat of communism. These three factions were in an all out war and would kill on sight. After the war, though, things had to change. This particular coffee plantation was an experiment. Equal numbers of families from each of the three factions began this enterprise shortly after the war ended. To this day, they live and work in peace with each other and, despite pitfalls and setbacks, they have become a success story. What is it that has enabled them to literally trade swords for plowshares? Their faith.

The scripture that I read this morning, is likely one of the most eloquent that Saint Paul ever wrote. Many theologians count the epistle to the Romans as the most theologically pure and well written of any that we have. And there are any number of different approaches to take when considering Paul’s words today. However, I want to focus one one main idea that I think speaks volumes about the larger point Paul is making. He mentions it right at the beginning of the reading. Paul makes an important distinction. There is a big difference, he says, between righteousness that comes from the law and righteousness that comes from faith.

He is not saying that the law is irrelevant, but that it is not all that we make of it. He is making a distinction that is both a recognition of the past as well as an invitation to the future. The law had been THE way to live righteously. Just in this short passage there are a number of references to the Torah. The law has served a purpose and that is to be recognized. Theologian Bruce Shields argues that “the law is a helpful guide to living in the will of God, as long as we do not demand more of it than God intended. It is not a way to earn God’s favor. God already loves us. It is not a way to work toward justification. In the redemptive death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God has already done all that is necessary for our justification.” (Shields, p.63-64)

To some extent, it is hard for us to really understand just what Paul is saying here. Think about it, Paul is writing this at a time and place when there is no real common understanding of the difference between what we call the Old and New Testament. Before Christ, righteousness is through the law. But for Paul, that wasn’t so long ago. So, while there was an understanding that Christ changed that, it is not something that is taken for granted. But, for us it is. Especially, here in 2013, most people will have heard that we are justified by faith. Especially people who are in church. We have heard it our whole lives and our parents heard it their whole lives and our grandparents and so on and so forth. Granted, those unfamiliar with church might not have heard it, but many of those will have some basic knowledge of it. So when we read these words, we need to be cognizant of the fact that we are reading it and interpreting it in a context that is very different from the one Paul wrote in.

But then again, maybe it isn’t so different. We know that we are justified by faith, but in our practice, we act as if we are justified by the law. We read the Bible and we understand it to say one thing or to say another and from that point on, we just parade around with an air of superiority, knowing that we are right. We read scripture and are quick to point out how others have been lax in their own lives. We see it all the time, even if we don’t recognize it. We see certain ideologies, certain behaviors, certain lifestyles and can immediately point to chapter and verse to back up our belief that the particular individual isn’t following the laws of God. Unfortunately, this isn’t a trait common to one brand of people, it is one that we all are guilty of.

Over the past couple of years working in the church, I am amazed at how blatant this becomes sometimes, especially when I do it. I, and others here, can beg and plead with this congregation to open up, to not only be welcoming to the community around us, but to venture out into the neighborhood, introduce yourselves, and invite people in. Yet, when it doesn’t happen, I have to imagine that the whispering begins. I can’t go out there, the neighborhood is full of addicts, it is full of drug dealers, it is full of those people on welfare who won’t go and get a job and be respectable. There are those who flaunt around their sexuality as if God is ok with what they are doing. And, even worse, there are democrats all over the place. They certainly can’t be righteous because I am and they are nothing like me.

Yet, even when I hear these things, and I do, and they bother me, I find myself or others saying equally judgmental things. I know I tend to complain about those who care only for their own needs and act as if the world would be a better place if everyone was just more independent, because I disagree. I am dismayed that so many conservatives can honestly think they are right with God. Because, deep down, I know I am right and those who are different just can’t be right with God.

See where I am going with this? You see, I am not trying to condemn but rather to show how we all tend to condemn before we praise. I have tried to be honest here, about my own faults, and they are many. Hopefully you all can see a bit of yourselves in some of this, because I think we all can. And yet, we read these words from Paul, we say that we are saved by our faith and our faith alone and then we wonder why people say the church, any church, all churches are full of hypocrites.

So, what does it look like to both believe and live in the understanding that we are righteous by faith? What does it look like to do exactly what Paul is suggesting here?

It looks like the coffee cooperative that I described earlier. People able to get over some very difficult pasts and work together into the invitation they have gotten to their future. It looks like an apology given to that person you misjudged. It looks like that group of friends at the restaurant who meet every week and argue over their different politics, but each week a different person picks up the check and they all walk out together looking forward to their next meal together. It looks like every member of this church, looking past what we think we see in those around us to be able to see the heart and mind and very hands of Christ himself as we greet one another, as we worship together, as we pray for each other and as we serve together.

We, the church, have a herculean task in front of us. We are called to be the light for a world full of darkness. We are called to bring the good news to the world. We are supposed to be those who Paul describes as having beautiful feet. Our task is not to bemoan, to complain, to belittle, to ostracize, to judge. Yet we all do each of these things far too often.

Our task is not to enrich ourselves, or to ensure that our futures are comfortable. We gather together weekly, sometimes more often and go on and on about what it means that we can’t earn salvation. We take pride in knowing that we are God’s even before we know who we are. We evangelize, convincing others that our faith is simple and easy. We say our prayers and expect God to do the rest. Because, we convince ourselves, if all we must do is accept the truth, that God will take over. The thing is, even though all of that is true, it will work only when we let ourselves be open to God working through that faith to change the world. And we can’t truly be open to letting God work through us if we can’t see the good, the divine spark in the eyes of so many around us. God promises lots of things, but he never promises it will be easy. If anything, he lets us know it will be very, very difficult. But if we do the work, if we are open to seeing the Risen Christ in each others eyes and in the lives of all of those we encounter, then God’s will can be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Amen.

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Shields, B. (2004). Preaching Romans. (pp. 65-66). St. Louis: Chalice Press.

This is the text of the sermon I delivered today (September 29, 2013) at Faith United Methodist Church in Sandy Ridge, Pennsylvania. This was a homecoming and it is also the first time I have preached in the area I grew up in.

Micah 6:6-8 (NRSV)

(What God Requires)

(6) “With what shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before God on high? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old?

(7) Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?”

(8) He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

Luke 15:11-32 (NRSV)

(11) Then Jesus said, “There was a man who had two sons.

(12) The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’ So he divided his property between them.

(13) A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living.

(14) When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need.

(15) So he went  and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs.

(16) He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything.

(17) But when he came to himself he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger!

(18) I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you;

(19) I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”’

(20) So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.

(21) Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’

(22) But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe - the best one - and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.

(23) And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate;

(24) for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate.

(25) “Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing.

(26) He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on.

(27) He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.’

(28) Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him.

(29) But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends.

(30) But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’

(31) Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.

(32) But 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.’”

I first want to thank you for the opportunity to worship here with you this morning. Believe it or not, this is a big honor for me. I have been working as a pastor in one form or another for just over three years, but this is the first time I have preached here in the area I grew up in. Maybe it is for that reason that I am more nervous standing before you today than I have ever really been at the church I serve at every week. The Gospels remind us of the reception Jesus got when he preached in his hometown, so I guess it is par for the course to be a bit anxious this morning. Truth be told, I never thought I would be here. Just like any young kid growing up, I had plans with what I wanted to do with my life. Those plans changed over time, like they are wont to do; yet, at no point would I have said I wanted to be a pastor.

But, life has a way of coming full circle. We spend our youth trying to get away from home. As adults, we spend our time trying to make a home. As we age, in one way or another, we always end up on our way home again. Home is a place, both real and imagined, that we are constantly in relation with. We are either trying to get away or trying to get back there, but we always measure ourselves by how far away from it we are.

Home is a center for our lives. Yet, home is also the beginning and the end of our lives. And, at some point in our life, we long to go home. So what does it mean to want to go home? What does it mean to be away from home? What does it mean to be at home? What is home in the first place?

Home is that place, both real and imagined, that we belong. It is that place, real and imagined, where we find our identity. It is that place that defines us, that makes us who we are. And it is that place that we are called to, that we return to, that we yearn for.

My life, in a lot of ways, has been a search for home. I spent my youth, like many, trying to get away from it. I wanted to see more, to travel around, to experience life in a way I felt wouldn't be possible here in the place I grew up in. Home, then, was the place I knew, but I wanted to know more. Life would be successful in my eyes, if I learned that which home couldn't teach me.

So I went in search of that which I sought. I kept searching. I searched in south America. I searched in central America. I searched in the Caribbean. I searched in Lewisburg. I searched in Athens, Ohio. I searched and I searched and I searched. Then, I fell in love and the search changed. Instead of searching for my home, I searched to create one. I began to search for the things that can create a home. I searched for a job, for a city, for a place, for a life to provide for my wife, my children, myself. But it was then that I realized that as I searched for a home, my need and yearning for my own home became stronger. I no longer looked to get further away, but looked for how to get closer. I looked for ways to create a home. And I realized that while home may be a place, more than that it is a feeling, it is a reality that is made up by those who surround us. The old saying Home is where the heart is is true because home becomes the place where the people are that we love. Home is where our family is.

It is in the company of family that we are truly at home. It is a shame that some of us need to venture far away from our loved ones before we realize it was their company that we were searching for in the first place but never realized.

I began to come to this realization about 5 years ago, at least in earnest. I didn’t realize that I was on the path that would lead me here all my life, but about 5 years ago I began realizing that ministry was what I was supposed to do. Give years ago, as I was still learning to be a father, as I was still learning to be a husband, I began to realize that God was calling me to something that would eventually put me in a position to lead a church, and it was in this process that I began to piece together these different parts of my life in a way that allowed me to see the hand of God all around me. As my eyes were opened to this tapestry, I realized that home had been there all along, what I was missing was the right frame of mind to see it.

God had been there in my youth. God had been there in my travels. God had been there with me when I was on camping trips with Boy Scouts. God had been there with me in high school when my heart was broken. God had been there with me when I felt alone and when I felt loved. God had been there every step of the way. In ways both visible and invisible, God’s was working in my life to help me get to the point where I could look back and see the larger picture.

I thought long and hard about which scripture to use this morning. I originally didn’t want to use the story of the prodigal son because I didn’t want my words this morning to be about me. I didn’t want to portray myself as the prodigal son. But over the last couple of weeks, after talking with some close friends of mine at seminary, I realized that this story actually would be perfect. It is a story we all know, we have heard it countless times in church over our lives. But, in addition, we all are that son that goes off to live his life for himself only to realize later that what he sought was there all along.

Much like the son in this story, I wasn’t able to recognize when I was younger those sacrifices that my parents made for me. I wasn’t able to recognize how much they loved me and because of that I wrote them off way too much. I wanted more, I wanted it my way, I wanted to live my life the way I knew would be best and my only consideration was my own happiness. Being a father now, I know that there are days ahead of me that my own kids will want to do the same thing and that is scary, because a father or a mother always loves their children no matter how much trouble they might get into, no matter how many stupid stunts they pull, no matter how many times they don’t follow our advice, we love them. And we know that despite loving them so much, we know there will come a day when they won’t see how much we love them and will claim that we are just not getting them, that we just don’t understand.

But, looking back, I can say that I was blessed to have two parents who turned me into the person I am today, who helped me to be a better father than I would have been without them, who helped me be a better husband than I would have been had I not had their example. And I am thankful for that. It means more to me that I can explain that my mother is here today. And it hurts to know that by the time I figured out I was being called into ministry, it was too late for my father to be able to hear me preach. More than anything else, his absence is the one I feel the most. I have come to realize that the love which defines home is sometimes best understood as the love between father and son, even though for much of our lives the relationships we have with our fathers is complicated. But as complicated as the relationship may be, the love is stronger than just about anything else.

I would like to share with you a short story that I came across the other day. It is the sad but inspiring story that emerged from the Vietnam War and it is about the stamina and cohesiveness of the Elmo Zumwalt family. Admiral Elmo Zumwalt Jr., a graduate of Annapolis, quickly progessed from rank to rank. He was appointed chief of naval operations at age 49, the youngest person ever to hold that position.

Lieutenant Elmo Zumwalt III embraced his father’s credo, “Duty, honor, intelligence, and compassion.” Much against the admiral’s wishes, the young man elected to serve in Vietnam. He neither sought nor received special treatment from the Navy. In fact, his assignment was an extremely dangerous one: patrolling the rivers in small craft. During this time the powerful chemical defoliant, Agent Orange, was used along the riverbanks.

In 1983, Lieutenant Zumwalt learned he had developed cancer. It was traceable to Agent Orange; ironically, his father had given the order to use it.

Their book, My Father, My Son, details the unbelievable account of the family’s courage and commitment to one another. There was no blame; each man did what he thought he had to do. The son’s painful days finally ended. However, before his death he wrote his father a beautiful letter. Here is the last paragraph:

“How I loved you. How I would have loved to continue to fight battles by your side. You always made a difference. You made my last battle, the journey to death, more gentle, more humane. I love you, Elmo.”

We all love the story of the prodigal son, because to a some extent we all can empathize with the son. But, to some extent, too, we can empathize with the father. We know the importance that forgiveness can bring to a relationship and we all know what it is like to be in need of forgiveness.

This morning I didn’t want to stand up here and recount a sad story, but sometimes it is in the sad stories that we see the most joy. The father in the story, at the sight of his son coming home, rejoiced. Even if he knew all the wrong his son had done, at that moment, he didn’t care. He was joyous simply with the knowledge that the separation was over. Coming home is a celebration.

It is in that celebration that we gather today. We have come home to share our lives with one another. This celebration today we share with those that we love. While there may be a few people missing from our tables today, their absence also reminds us of the fact that we all are on our own way home. From the day we are born we are on a journey home. For some that journey is long and for others not so much, but the destination is the same. Much like the prodigal son, we may fear that homecoming, but the parable we read from Luke’s Gospel this morning reminds us that while we may not think we deserve a homecoming celebration, the Father will be ready to welcome us back to the home that we all share and that day we will feast with Him, with those who have gone home before us and those that still journey to join us. That, my friends, is the good news.

The prophet Micah reminds us this morning, too, that getting there isn’t as difficult as we make it. The Bible is big and complicated, but the story of the prodigal son and the words from Micah remind us that there is a home we are venturing too and getting there is more simple than we know. We may say that the Father expects a lot, but in reality what he expects is not that difficult to do. He wants us to do justice. To know that there is a wrong and a right and that our decisions should reflect that. Yet, even after the call for justice, we are to love mercy. We are to acknowledge that God’s grace is what helps us stay on the road home and that we are to reflect that mercy to others. And He wants us to acknowledge and live into the fact that we do not journey alone, for He is with us and we walk with Him through it all.