Sermon - Midweek Lenten Worship -
Text - Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
The Road Back Home
Pastor
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord
Jesus Christ. Amen
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
- Robert Frost
I think I was about four years old or
so when I ran away from home. I had
gotten into some sort of mischief and had received what was probably a
well-deserved scolding from my mother and, as a result, was sent to my room to
take a nap. Angered by this obvious
injustice, I decided I had had enough and so, with Mom preoccupied with her
household tasks and assuming that I was sound asleep in my room, I packed my
little blue leather suitcase and snuck outside.
With determination in my eyes, I set out, walking east right down the
middle of our country road toward Grandpa and Grandma’s house, a mere six miles
away, where I was sure they would take me in.
I made it a good quarter of a mile or so down the road when one of our
neighbor ladies spotted me out her kitchen window, called my mother, and asked,
“Do you know that Greg is walking down the middle of the road carrying a
suitcase?” Within moments of that phone
call, Mom was running down the road after me.
Little kids, I believe, when given a choice, usually choose what comes
most naturally to them, and I was certainly no exception. Instead of turning around and going back home
to my mom, whose earlier anger towards me had certainly not been diminished any
by this latest stunt, I did just the opposite and started to run, running as
fast as my little feet would carry me, until at last Mom caught up with me,
grabbed hold of my arm, and began dragging me back home. Unlike the ending of Jesus’ story of the
prodigal son, there was no party waiting for me upon my return, but rather
those proverbial words so often spoken on the lips of my mother, “Just wait
until your father gets home!”
When caught in our Sin, how much
easier it is for us to run away - running away from our relationships with one
another and running away from our relationship with God - than it is for us to
turn back home, admitting our Sin, and asking for forgiveness. The alcoholic, instead of admitting his
disease and seeking treatment, turns his back on everyone who tries to stand in
the way of him and his addiction. The
wife, having an affair on her husband, instead of being truthful with both herself and her family, isolates herself from them, spending
more and more time away, until finally there is no family left. The teenage son or daughter, home way past
curfew, instead of admitting their own fault, comes up with one lame excuse
after another, until all trust between parent and child is whittled away. The road back home, the road that leads us to
confess our sin and to be reconciled with both God and others, is by no means
the more popular road these days. It is
indeed “the road less traveled.” And
yet, as Jesus so powerfully illustrates in his familiar parable of the prodigal
son, awaiting us at the end of the road back home, though a road less traveled
and a road that causes us to be dreadfully honest about ourselves, is the
welcome embrace of our loving, heavenly Father.
“But while he was still far off,”
tells Jesus, “his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put
his arms around him and kissed him. 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.’
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. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let
us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was
lost and is found!’ And they began to
celebrate.” Having run away from home,
squandering every last penny of his inheritance, the younger son chooses the
road less traveled and goes back home, confessing his sin, admitting his
unworthiness before his father, and having done the difficult thing, his father
welcomes him back into his arms. What
grace! What amazing grace!
This season of Lent is a season that
calls each and every one of us to choose the road less traveled and to return
home - to confess on sinfulness - to be honest about those ways in which we
have hurt others - to admit our unfaithfulness to God. And like the prodigal son, when we do, we
know that we too will be met with open arms from our Father in heaven who waits
for us until he can welcome us back home.
I love the story that is told of a man
who was traveling on a train and who noticed a teenager seated near him who
seemed in great distress. The boy would
look out the window, get up, walk up and down the
aisle, only to look anxiously out the window again, repeating the process over
and over. Finally, the man said, “Son,
you seem to be worried about something.”
“It’s about my father,” the teenager responded. “we had a violent
quarrel a few weeks ago; he told me to leave home and never return. My mother has written me that Dad shows some
signs of wanting me to come back. She
said for me to look out of the window as the train goes by our farm. If Dad is ready to be reconciled, she will
have a big white rag tied to the branch of the pear tree nearest the
tracks. But I can’t bear to look. Our place is just around the next bend; and
if there is no white rag on the tree, I am going on by, and will never
return.” The boy’s fellow passenger put
his hand on the boy’s shoulder, and said, “Son, sit down and close your
eyes. I’ll watch for you, and I’ll tell
you what I see.” The boy sat down and in
a moment, the train rounded the bend.
The man shook the boy by the shoulder excitedly, yelling, “Look! Look!
Look!” The boy hesitantly opened
his eyes, looking out the window, only to see not one white rag, but hundreds
of white rags hanging from every branch of the tree.”
What are you running away from in your
life? A broken relationship that needs
fixed? The truth about
your own Sinfulness? God? Whatever it is,
Jesus invites us to turn around and take the road back home where with
outstretched arms our heavenly Father waits for us.
God’s
Peace