Sermon for 4 Lent C

March 21, 2004

The Rev. Eric Williams

St. Luke’s Episcopal Church

“But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion.”

“In Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting [our] trespasses against [us], and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us.”

My parents have enjoyed some wonderful blessings in their lives—

	47 years of marriage
	relatively good health and an active lifestyle
	good friendships
	grandchildren

But by far the best thing that has happened in the last ten years has been the restoration of a good relationship with my brother James. In many ways this Gospel is the story of my family. James is the prodigal son, who acted out his part to the fullest. I won’t bore you with the depressing details, but suffice it to say, we had all truly given him up for lost. He was to all intents and purposes dead to us. My parents were even warned by their attorney to have no contact with him by phone or in person. Many of you are parents. You know the powerful mixture of hope, love, anger and disappointment that so often overwhelms you when it comes to your children. When they are young, you dream so much for them and as they grow older you must let go of those dreams as they choose their own course and make their own mistakes. But you still feel every pain they experience, you still agonize over every mistake. The path of parenthood is the path of suffering and the path of love. Suffering and love are sometimes indistinguishable.

So it was with, I’m sure, incredibly mixed feelings that my parents picked up the phone that day several years ago when my brother called. Yet they never faltered. Perhaps they did not rush right out like the father in the story and kill the fatted calf. This has been a more gradual story. Their trust was restored, not in a moment, but day by day, week by week, year by year. The important thing, the really crucial thing is, he never had to earn back their love. My parents never stopped loving James and never stopped showing that love in small ways and big ones. I was (and am) a lot like the older son in the story, you remember him—the stiff-necked Episcopalian. When I heard they had welcomed him back home, I frankly thought they were nuts and I told them so. I didn’t want to forgive my brother and I didn’t think they should either. But even I have to admit that something amazing has happened to him and to them. They have experienced the grace of reconciliation. He who was lost has been found and he who was dead is alive. And their joy, all of their joy, is tangible at what they have gained.

If you were to try to sum up the whole gospel in one sentence, you couldn’t beat St. Paul who said this:

“In Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting [our] trespasses against [us], and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us.” That’s truly what it’s all about—reconciliation—the prodigal returning, the joyful reunion. But it all comes at a price. I watched my parents age as they suffered with my brother. I saw the pain etched in their faces. Reconciliation always comes at a price. For all its faults, you cannot watch Mel Gibson’s movie without seeing the price Jesus paid to bring about reconciliation. And here’s the thing. There’s no accounting at the end. My brother will never be asked to “pay back” my parents. How could he? And you and I will never be asked to pay God back for what he did for us. Even if we wanted to, we couldn’t. All we can do is to live the rest of our lives the best we can. I have a vivid picture in my mind of the end of the movie “Saving Private Ryan.” Ryan, now in his 70’s, visits the graveyard in Europe where the men who saved him are buried. Weeping for those brave young men he tells them that he has tried to make his life mean something, tried to make their sacrifice worthwhile.

And how do we do that? How do we make our lives mean something? I think it is simple—simple to understand, that is, and hard to do. And it all comes from that same verse from 2 Corinthians.

We need to do two things: Be reconciled and Be reconcilers.

We need to be reconciled to God. In one way, that’s the easy part. God in Christ has done all the work, has paid all the price. All we need to do is accept it by accepting him. He is the open-armed Father rushing out to us with the royal robe and the fatted calf, forgiving us before we can even ask. All we need to do is admit our sin, our need and receive his forgiveness. It is not always easy, however, to feel forgiven, to know and claim the forgiveness that God so freely offers. We seem to have a need to revisit our sins and beat ourselves up over and over.

The second part is even harder. We need to become reconcilers—doing the same thing for others. This is hard because we like to keep score. We want life to be fair. People, we think, ought to get forgiveness the old fashioned way—by earning it. We are hard on ourselves and equally hard on others. Yet becoming reconcilers means forgiving first, loving first, accepting first, even when it is not deserved or even appreciated. It means tearing up the scorecard. This does not mean we approve of bad behavior. But we refuse to let others’ sins stand in the way of God’s love and our own. After all, think of what stands between you and the people in your life right now. What resentments, offenses, grudges, and sins are you punishing them for right now in your heart? What will it cost you to let go and forgive? Now step back for a moment and gaze at Jesus. Picture him on the cross. See the marks of the nails in his hands and feet, the mark of the spear in his side. See his crown of thorns. Remember what he has forgiven you and the cost of his forgiveness. Be reconciled and be reconcilers.

Our lives will be measured, in the end, not for what we have done or what we have earned or even by what fantastic kids and grandkids we have. Our lives will be measured by the extent to which we have been agents of reconciliation. Have we forgiven others as we have been forgiven? Have we loved others as we have been loved? That’s the key to a meaningful life. It is the joy of the kingdom of God, where through the reconciling love of Jesus Christ the dead come to life, and the lost are found.

You can respond to this sermon by contacting the Rev. Eric Williams.