Yes, the altar coverings have changed a bit. For those who are a bit more traditionally minded, this is Laetere Sunday. If you were here on Gaudette Sunday in Advent, you might remember this set and you might remember me saying that you would see the set again in Lent. For those wondering what I am talking about, today is one of two Sundays in the Church year where the vestments are rose colored. Unsurprisingly, since the sets are only used twice a year, not every church has rose or pink colored altar sets. It is hard to justify to an altar guild or Vestry the need to spend $7-12,000 on a set that is used only twice a year, especially when the green set or the white set is getting a bit worn!
One of the
benefits of the pandemic was that it allowed the altar guild to do some
re-organizing, without the rush of normal activities. In the midst of cleaning up and cleaning out,
the ladies came across this set. Some
Adventer or Adventers long before us paid good money for this set, and it is in
great shape. So, we made the decision to
use it on those two Sunday’s.
Laetere
Sunday is the fourth Sunday of Lent. The
name comes from the Latin word for rejoice!
Those who really use their Prayer Books understand that the Latin names
of the Psalms are included in our Psalter.
Since this was the middle Sunday between Ash Wednesday and Easter, it
was meant to be a bit of a celebration, a great big “hump day,” for those of us
who remember that term. We have been
focusing in Lent on our sins and wretchedness and our need of the Savior. We are not, of course, traveling through Lent
worried about the outcome. We already
know how this season will turn to Holy Week, and the Passion and Death of our
Lord Christ. Just as significantly, we
know that that seeming defeat of God’s plan of salvation will turn into the
miracle of Easter. Heck, even when we
gather during Lent, we remember His death, we proclaim His Resurrection, and we
await His coming in glory.
The Church,
in Her infinite wisdom, for years began the liturgy with the invitation: Rejoice
with Jerusalem, be glad for her, all that delight in her . . . The focus
was supposed to be on God’s provision for His people, well, all people who
would call upon Him. The Gospel reading
for the day was the miracle of the five loaves and fishes. It was an easy way to get from Jesus’ provision,
with twelve baskets of leftovers after everyone ate their fill, to the hopes
and promises of the Eucharistic meal in which we share each week.
For reasons
known only to the RCL folks, though, the Parable of the Prodigal Son was moved
from the early middle of the green season after Pentecost to today. For my part, I am not a fan of the move. One of the wonderful aspects of the parable
was that it taught us our roles in the season in which we were called to be
growing in our faith. Depending on the
need of the congregation or individuals within, a faithful priest could remind
their flock that we are all prodigal sons and prodigal daughters, that most of
us are often older brothers or older sisters, and that many of us are called to
be loving fathers or loving mothers at various times in our walk with God. By moving the reading to the middle of Lent,
our focus tends to be more on our prodigal, sinful, nature. The parable, of course, remains the same; but
we read it with “purple colored glasses,” rather than the green in which many
of us came to know and love it.
That being
said, the parable is still the parable.
And it is a parable that is worthy of rejoicing on our part. All of us are prodigals, so we can rejoice
that our loving Father forgives us our sins of which we are penitent and
embraces us every bit as tightly and lovingly as the father does in the story. And those of us who have been like the older
brother in the parable, begrudging that we do what we are supposed to do and
that God will forgive those who don’t, if they repent even on the death bed. Oh, come on now, I see faces of
disbelief. Have none of us complained to
God that He was not fair in His treatment of us, relative to others? I mean, many of us gathered here today attend
church faithfully; many of us pledge or give faithfully; many of us participate
in ministries frequently; some of us study the Scriptures more seriously, and
almost all of us think we have a great prayer life, right? OK, well, we do those things better than
those who do not show up, right? Now I
see rueful faces. Yes, in our heart of
hearts we often think we deserve blessings or even God’s grace more than
others. Yes, He knows our hearts. Yes, He forgives even that attitude. And, I am willing to bet, most of us who have
had children have failed to be a loving parent all the time. Those of you with only two kids can only
imagine the failures of a parent of seven!
See, it is worthy of rejoicing to be forgiven! Those of you who miss the reference might
want to talk to Adventers about the let it alone another year reference from
the fig tree parable last week.
Since we
all know these things, there is no need for me to spend time preaching on
them. If you want to talk or argue
specifically, feel free to drop by or call this week. Instead, I felt called to do a bit of
preaching on the parable and its relation to the Eucharist which we celebrate
this day and our call to rejoice! In the
parable there are a couple themes seemingly at odds with one another, themes
which point to our need for circumcised hearts.
The first
theme is the theme of the prodigal. We
have all heard sermons how the son’s initial request was basically a “you’re
dead to me, dad,” an insult in a culture that values honor, and mothers and
fathers if they are faithful. The
behavior of the prodigal shows how far away he is willing to leave his people,
his family, and his God. He eschews an
inheritance in the covenant promises made to Abraham and travels voluntarily to
another land. While there, he engages in
dissolute living, activities which would condemn him under the torah. And before he comes to himself, he finds
himself working for a gentile pig farmer, slopping the hogs as folks from North
Carolina would say. Yes, he is tending
unclean animals. Despite all this bad
behavior, when he finally comes to himself, he decides it is better to be a
slave in his father’s house than live like this. Against all expectation, the father lavishly
welcomes him back. He is robed, ringed,
and feted by the very man to whom he proclaimed severance.
That theme
is easy for us to understand. God tells
us over and over and over and over in the Scriptures how much He loves us,
despite us. Take your favorite story
from the Old Testament. God is faithful
to Israel even when Israel refuses to be faithful to Him. He is not caught surprised by their
rejection. In fact, as the covenant is
sworn by them with Him before the verge of the Jordan, He gives them the signs
of warning to evaluate their faithfulness.
But even as He promises they will be punished, because the will not keep
the covenant, He promises that His wrath will not be kindled against them
forever. One day, He will call them
home, and He will send them a prophet like one of them, who will instruct and
teach and live as He calls all of His people to live, thereby fulfilling the
purposes of His call on Abraham, that he and his descendants will be a blessing
to the nations of the world!
The second
theme, though also easy to understand, is a little tougher to ponder in our
mirrors of self-examination, even in an intentional season where we focus on
such things. The attitude of the older
brother is often far more prevalent in us than we would like to admit. We like to think we deserve or have earned
God’s grace but that others have not.
Who the “others” are differs for us, depending on where we are in our
walk with God and others. Sometimes, we complain
bitterly to God because we go to church faithfully, or give generously, or
volunteer copious amounts of our time to serving others in His name. And in our self-righteous indignation, we evaluate
the attendance, the giving, or the ministry of others, giving little thought to
their own conditions or God’s call on their lives. Sometimes, we determine who is worthy of God’s
grace by the color of their skin, by their ethnic tribe, by their political
affiliation, by their education, by their occupation, or any other ways to
convince ourselves we are right and they are wrong. In truth, we forget that the intended
audience of Jesus were those who questioned His work among the “undesireables”
of their society, those who were supposed to study and know the heart of God.
Part of
Jesus’ important work was to incarnate the covenantal love, the hesed, of
God. God’s commitment to His people, all
of humanity, is beyond any concept of love that you or I see in the world
around or truly understand. Were we
truly to understand it, each of us would remember when we were the prodigal son
or daughter, when we were the lost sheep, when we were the lost coin, or when
we found that pearl of immeasurable wealth.
Yet, for so many of us for so much of the time, we forget that honest
look at ourselves. We forget that Jesus
died even for our sins, even as He died for the sins of the others. And in that attitude of forgetfulness, we are
like those in His intended audience.
When we see God’s love powerfully redeeming others, we are often
resentful. In the parable, we are like
the older brother who refuses to join in the celebration. Thankfully and mercifully, of course, He knew
that about us before He ever went to Golgotha.
Two
themes. How are the reconciled? How can someone be so loved by God that He
would come down from heaven, suffer and die for them? How can someone aware of God’s work ever come
to the conclusion that others are not worthy of the same love from the same
God? Both, of course, are nailed to the
Cross with Jesus in judgment of the world and us. Those of us who have wrestled with the
teachings of the season, who have seriously pondered the readings we have faced
and the illuminations of ourselves through the Holy Spirit, should begin to notice
that the Cross is growing ever bigger in our lives. At various times in our lives, we have been
the crowd, the prodigal, the father, and the older brother. We should, better than most, recognize our
need for His saving embrace on the hard wood of that Cross. And yet, so ingrained in our hearts is that
sin of resentment, that sin of hubris, that we refuse to admit we belong with
those we judge as others.
I said at
the beginning of the service that we are celebrating Laetere Sunday. I reminded you that the name came from the Latin
title of the psalm originally appointed for the day – rejoice! Brothers and sisters, you and I are called to
rejoice this day, to give thanks this day, and every day for that matter, that
God was unwilling to leave us to our own devices and desires. When we were lost, when we were prodigal, he
waited patiently for us to come to ourselves and return to Him. And, like the father in the parable, He
celebrated with the angels in heaven when we returned to Him. But, my friends, that celebration is not just
limited to us! Each and every time a
lost one comes to themselves and returns to Him, He throws another party and
another party and another party. Let to
our own efforts, our own works, our own righteousness, none of us would ever
have a prayer of being invited to that party.
But we rejoice this day and every day because the invitation was not
dependent upon any of us. It was
dependent solely upon our Lord Christ.
Because He was faithful, we are invited.
Because He was wounded, we are healed.
Because He was raised, we know we will get to attend that celebration
that is far beyond what any of us can ask or imagine.
But, before
we party, before we celebrate, we have work to do. Like the older brother, we have tasks
appointed to each of us. Some of the
tasks seem impossible. Some of the tasks
seem rather mundane. But all of them
that He gives us are for the benefit of those whom we serve in His name and for
ourselves. And so, on this day as we are
fed by His teachings and by His Sacrament, we rejoice that He loved us despite
our own unworthiness, and empowers each of us to love others, as He loved us,
that they, too, might have reason to rejoice in their lives. And, once we’ve all gone to that place where
there are no tears nor sighing, join us in that wonderful celebration about
which He is always talking and encouraging and teaching us how to invite
others!
In Christ’s Peace,
Brian†
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