by the Rev. Craig Lemming
Rejoice, Mother Church: and come together all of you that love her: sing with joy, you that have been in sorrow: that you may exult, and be filled from the breasts of God’s consolation. Amen.
Those words are an adaptation of the Introit sung in the Church today: “Laetare Jerusalem.” This Fourth Sunday in Lent is Laetare or Mothering Sunday. These rose-colored vestments and paraments symbolize a brief relaxation from our normal Lenten rigors – a day of hope as Easter is at last within sight. Mothering Sunday was when Christians returned to their mother church – the church in which they received the sacrament of Holy Baptism. The third Sunday in Advent and this Fourth Sunday in Lent are particularly meaningful for me, as these rose-colored vestments and paraments were given to St. John’s in honor of my return from my priestly sabbatical. Today’s sermon is about the gifts of returning and rejoicing.
Today, we hear those reckless, extravagant, prodigal words of love again:
‘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.
And, in case we didn’t understand the prodigal father’s recklessly loving choice the first time, we hear again: “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.’”
What exactly leads the prodigal son and each of us to the ways of non-being? What exactly causes us to lose our way and to get so lost? I have three fancy theological words for us to re-learn and nerd-out about today. They’re also really handy for playing Scrabble! Are you ready? Repeat after me: Apostacy, Hubris, and Concupiscence. According to theologian Paul Tillich, these are the three faces of Estrangement.[1] Apostacy is when we turn away from and fail to trust in God’s love and providence. Hubris is when we elevate ourselves above God and our neighbor and make an idol of our selves. Concupiscence, according to Tillich, is “the attempt to cram the whole world into one’s own mouth” in selfish, unlimited, heedless, and ruthless striving. When we choose Apostacy, Hubris, and Concupiscence we estrange ourselves from our neighbors, from God, and from being our true selves. We witness all three faces of estrangement in the prodigal son, in today’s political leaders, and in ourselves. We turn away from God’s love and providence. We worship our self-centered egos. And we greedily devour or waste resources that could have been joyfully shared with others.
Jesus chooses to tell the parable of the Prodigal Son when all the tax collectors and sinners came near to listen to Jesus and when all the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” Like the prodigal son, we come near and listen to Jesus when we long to be liberated from Apostacy, Hubris, and Concupiscence. Like the prodigal son’s older brother, we come near and listen to Jesus when we long to be liberated from our self-righteousness, perfectionism, and hypocrisy. Sinner that I am, I long to come near and listen to Jesus so that I can be liberated from estranging myself from God, my neighbors, and my true self. Perhaps you do, too? Like the prodigal son, today, we have a choice. Today, like the prodigal son, we can come to terms with ourselves. Today, we can reckon with the ways we have estranged ourselves from belonging to God and to one another in right relationship. As individuals in a reconciling community, we can take responsibility for the meaning of our lives.
In our Lenten parish read, Man’s Search for Meaning, Viktor Frankl writes about Logotherapy. According to Frankl, logotherapy focuses on the meaning of human existence and our search for such meaning. Frankl writes,
Each [person] is questioned by life; and he can only answer to life by answering for his own life; to life he can only respond by being responsible. Thus, logotherapy sees in responsibleness the very essence of human existence.[2]
Taking responsibility for the meaning of our life, for Frankl, begins in 3 ways:
1. By creating a work or doing a deed for others;
2. By experiencing goodness, truth, and beauty in nature or culture; and by experiencing another human being in their very uniqueness – by loving them.
3. By the attitude we choose to take toward unavoidable suffering.[3]
When we turn back to the creative, healing, and compassionate love of God and neighbor, our search for meaning can begin again. In the sacrificial, extravagant, prodigal love of Christ for all people, we find new life again. Saint Paul proclaims:
If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation.
If you’re like me, and have ever turned away from what is good, and true, and beautiful. If your petty, self-centered, greedy little ego has ever led you to worship the idols of money, prestige, and power. If your insatiable appetites have led you to ruin relationships. Know this: God is waiting and watching for our return: “while the prodigal son was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.” God’s reconciling love is what we can all return to and rejoice in together this Mothering Sunday. Can we forgive ourselves as God forgives us? Can we forgive those who harmed us as God forgives all people? Will we choose to live lives of love, service, and integrity by belonging in a reconciling community? Frankl writes, “The more one forgets himself–by giving himself to a cause to serve or another person to love–the more human he is and the more he actualizes himself… self-actualization is possible only as a side-effect of self-transcendence.[4] We transcend our selfish Apostacy, Hubris, and Concupiscence with God’s prodigal love. We can return to God’s extravagant, unconditional, compassionate embrace and rejoice. God has rolled away the disgrace of being estranged. God the mother and father of us all, sees us, runs to us, embraces us, kisses us, and loves us back to life again. May we receive and give these gifts of God for all the people of God recklessly. Amen.
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[1] Langdon Gilkey, Gilkey on Tillich (New York, NY: Crossroad Publishing Company, 1990), 126-130.
[2] Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning (Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 2006), 109.
[3] Ibid., 111.
[4] Ibid.
