Palm Sunday Sermon

Palm Sunday

Luke 19: 28-40

Luke 22:14-23:56

The Street Sweeper

"And when he had said this, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem. When he drew near to Bethphage and Bethany, at the mount that is called Olivet, he sent two of the disciples, saying, "Go into the village opposite, where on entering you will find a colt tied, on which no one has ever yet sat; untie it and bring it here. If any one asks you, 'Why are you untying it?' you shall say this, 'The Lord has need of it.'" So those who were sent went away and found it as he had told them. And as they were untying the colt, its owners said to them, "Why are you untying the colt?" And they said, "The Lord has need of it." And they brought it to Jesus, and throwing their garments on the colt they set Jesus upon it. And as he rode along, they spread their garments on the road. As he was now drawing near, at the descent of the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen, saying, "Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!" And some of the Pharisees in the multitude said to him, "Teacher, rebuke your disciples." He answered, "I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out."" Luke 19:28-40, RSV.

"What a mess!! I come to work on Monday morning and what do I have? A messy street. I wonder what happened? I see palm branches thrown all over, even some clothes. What a mess!! Who could have done such a thing, and why? I did not see on the schedule that we were suppose to have a parade this weekend, or I would not have left for the lake for the weekend. Now look at the mess I have to clean up.

Hey you, what happened here? Why the palm branches in the middle of the street, why the clothes strewn all over? What you don't know what happened either. Yea I will get it cleaned up, hold your pants on.

Boy I need a break. This is tough work. I haven't seen a mess like this since king Herod came to town. Everything was a mess the next day, but we knew he was coming, and we planned for it. But this, this was not expected.

I think I drop by the coffee shop and rest a moment.

Hey, inn keeper, a cup of coffee and make it snappy. I have a huge mess to clean up. Do you know anything about what happened here yesterday. You do, well tell me about it so I can charge the guy who started the parade without a license or permit.

What? You say it was that guy Jesus. He came riding in here on a donkey and a crowd gathered, and people started throwing palm branches in the way and even their clothes!!

Didn't anyone try to stop them?

What's that you say? The crowds started to sing Hosanna, hosanna, "Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!" It was like a king coming to town. Everyone was singing, dancing as this Jesus came riding in on a donkey.

That Jesus fellow. I've heard of him. He was making trouble up by the lake. Seems he has healed people, casting out demons, raising people from the dead, and says He is the son of God. He has 12 followers and a rag tag group following him where ever he goes. Didn't anyone try to stop him?

The inn keeper told him that the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, rebuke your disciples." They should not be calling you King!! We have one King and that is Herod. You want to get all of us in trouble."

So, did this Jesus fellow stop? No, he rode all the way into Jerusalem like he owned the place.

Well, thanks for the lowdown. I better get back to work. I have such a mess to clean up. When I find out who to send the bill too, it's gonn'a be a whopper, they will be sorry they made such a mess.

Push, push, push, bend, bend, bend, that 's all I do all day. Push the stuff into a pile, then bend over and pick it up and throw it into the basket. Then haul the basket to the dump and start all over again.

Push, push, push, bend, bend, bend, haul, haul, haul. Hey what's all the commotion up their at the temple. Hey, it's that Jesus fellow again. Wasn't it bad enough He made trouble yesterday and gave me this mess to clean up, but He's at it again.

Hey, you, what's goin' on? I can't hear you with all the noise, speak up man. What, Jesus just turned over a bunch of tables in the Temple. He is driving out the money changers, and He is calling the Temple His Father's house. He says: "the Temple shall be a house of prayer, but you make it a house of thieves."

His Father's house?? I suppose when I am done here, I'm goin'na have to go in there and clean it up too. But one good thing. There are places in there I can't go. Them Temple people are going to have to clean that up!!

Wait just one doggone minute!! Jesus said the Temple is his Father's house!! But the Temple is God's. Is God Jesus' father. No it can't be.

Push, push, push, bend, bend, bend, haul, haul, haul. The Temple Jesus' Father's house. Jesus the son of God. I remember something about that awhile back, maybe 30 some years ago. My cousin up at Nazareth told me a story he heard from an inn keeper up there. He said a couple came to the inn when everyone was forced to go to their own town to be enrolled. Boy, we had a mess here, too, that time. So many people no place to put them. There was no place for them in the Inn, so the inn keeper put them in the stable. He had his son clean out the place, replace the straw. Turned out to be a comfortable place. Then a baby was born. And shepherds came in from the fields and said that the angels told them "Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which will come to all the people; 11* for to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. 12* And this will be a sign for you: you will find a babe wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger." And the story goes that baby is this Jesus character.

Push, push, push, bend, bend, bend, haul, haul, haul. Leaning on his broom, the street sweeper thinks, and up at the lake I heard something about this guy Jesus that he was baptized by a guy named, what was that name, oh, John the Baptist. And people told me that a voice came from heaven and said, "Thou art my beloved Son; with thee I am well pleased."

Push, push, push, bend, bend, bend, haul, haul, haul. Looking up toward heaven, the street sweeper thinks, this is really strange. Jesus the son of God coming to Jerusalem now for the Passover. Coming here like a King. Is He the king, the Messiah that we have all been waiting for?

Push, push, push, bend, bend, bend, haul, haul, haul. It is almost quitting time. At last, time to go home put the old dogs up and relax. Got most of this mess cleaned up. Got some time off the rest of the week. Don't have to show up till late afternoon on Friday. Everyone wants the street cleaned before the Sabbath. I have really work hard then. I got about 3 to 4 hours from the time I get to work and sunset. But I usually get it done.

Push, push, push, bend, bend, bend, haul, haul, haul. What happened here? I had 3 days off, went to the Lake came back late this morning, show up for work and what do I see, a messy street. It sure is different than the last one I cleaned up. This time I see stones, sticks, torn clothes, and what's that blood. What happened here? Hey, why is the sky getting so dark it is only a little after 3 in the afternoon. I need day light to get finished before the Sabbath starts.

Push, push, push, bend, bend, bend, haul, haul, haul. Leaning on his broom, he sees someone coming. Hey mister, what happened here? Looks like another parade?

The street sweeper sits down while the stranger tells him a very interesting story.

The stranger says: I just returned from Calvary, the place of the skull. They crucified 3 men, 2 robbers and that Jesus of Nazareth. The religious guys said that the Jesus character was claiming to be the King of Jews, that he blasphemed, that He claimed to be the Son of God, so they tricked the Romans into crucified Him.

The religious guys worked up the crowd so much that they were yelling "Crucify, crucify him!" Pilate had no choice but to hand Jesus over. Since one person is allowed to be freed on the Passover, the religious guys wanted Barabbas freed and Jesus crucified. So he was paraded through the streets, as one who was a traitor, a false king, as one who blasphemed the word of God!!

As Jesus was carrying his cross, he slipped, and the Romans grabbed someone in the crowd to carry it. They grabbed my cousin Simon of Cyrene and he carried the cross to the hill. They nail Jesus and the other two to the crosses and lifted them into place.

I was not real close but Jesus did mutter some words from the cross, one being "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." He asked his father to forgive them. Father who? Then towards the last while it was getting real dark, like a storm coming up he says: "Father, into thy hands I commit my spirit!" And someone came running from the Temple to say the curtain has been torn. I left while they were taking the body down.

The street sweeper gets up from his place, stands for a moment, then picks up his broom and continues his job.

Push, push, push, bend, bend, bend, haul, haul, haul. He stops, leans on his broom and thinks: Maybe that Jesus really is the Messiah. Maybe he is the Son of God. If I tie together everything I have heard over these 30 years about this guy Jesus, from the babe born in the stable, the shepherds, the baptism, the voice from heaven, the miracles, the parade the first part of the week, if I tie it al together, Jesus could really be the Messiah.

Push, push, push, bend, bend, bend, haul, haul, haul and the street sweeper goes about his business, thinking all the while about that guy Jesus!!



That guy Jesus!!

On this Palm/Passion Sunday, that guy Jesus sure does stir up a lot of different emotions in us. The emotion of celebration as he rides into town on a donkey, with cheering, palm branches waving, clothes strewn all over the road. He comes riding into town as a King, the king of the Jews.

Then He is led through the town as a guilty criminal, beaten, having to carry his own instrument of death, the cross. We feel sorrow, anger, at those who we know now did not understand everything. We sense their anger, the hatred of this man who would call himself their king. A king who was humble, a king who was a servant, a king who was bringing a different kind of kingdom that the people and the religious guys did not understand.

That guy Jesus is surely very interesting. A king, yes, our king, the son of God, yes, a son who allowed Himself to be crucified so that our sins would be forgiven.

As Jesus rode into town on that day as a different kind of King, a different kind of religious ruler, as a different kind of political leader, He rode into town as the Messiah who would die for His people and rise again.

Palm Sunday is the day when, knowing that people are fickle, get tired
of parades and go home, Jesus came riding.

It's a day when, knowing that religious leaders like things neat and tidy and kill reformers, Jesus came riding.

It's a day when, knowing that the humble truth teller is walked upon, knowing that people will sell their souls for a handful of silver, knowing that even good friends will sleep while we suffer, it s a day when knowing all this, Jesus came riding.

Jesus came a'ridin.
Amen

Written by Rev Tim Zingale

You may freely use this but please give credit. Not for commercial use.

5th Sunday in Lent Sermon

5th Sunday in Lent

John 12:1-8

"Mary's Extravagant Love"

12:1 ¶ Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom Jesus had raised from the dead.

2 There they made him a supper; Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at table with him.

3 Mary took a pound of costly ointment of pure nard and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped his feet with her hair; and the house was filled with the fragrance of the ointment.

4 But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (he who was to betray him), said,

5 "Why was this ointment not sold for three hundred denarii and given to the poor?"

6 This he said, not that he cared for the poor but because he was a thief, and as he had the money box he used to take what was put into it.

7 Jesus said, "Let her alone, let her keep it for the day of my burial.

8 The poor you always have with you, but you do not always have me."RSV

Grace and Peace to You from our Lord and Saviour, Jesus who is the Christ. Amen

A true story that speaks about Mary's extravagant love for Jesus.

A nine-year-old boy who lived in a rural town in Tennessee. His house was in a poor area of the community. A church had a bus ministry that came knocking on his door one Saturday afternoon. The kid came to answer the door and greeted the bus pastor. The bus pastor asked if his parents were home and the small boy told him that his parents take off every weekend and leave him at home to take care of his little brother. The bus pastor couldn't believe what the kid said and asked him to repeat it. The youngster gave the same answer and the bus pastor asked to come in and talk with him. They went into the living room and sat down on an old couch with the foam and springs exposed.

The bus pastor asked the kid, "Where do you go to church?"

The young boy surprised the visitor by replying, "I've never been to church in my whole life." The bus pastor thought to himself about the fact that his church was less than three miles from the child's house. "Are you sure you have never been to church?"

He asked again. "I sure haven't", came his answer. Then the bus pastor said, "Well, son, more important than going to church, have you ever heard the greatest love story ever told?" and then he proceeded to share the Gospel with this little nine year old boy.

The young lad's heart began to be tenderized and at the end of the bus pastor's story the bus pastor asked if the boy wanted to receive this free gift from God. The youngster exclaimed, "You bet! The kid and the bus pastor got on their knees and the lad invited Jesus into his little heart and received the free gift of salvation.

They both stood up and the bus pastor asked if he could pick the kid up for church the next morning. "Sure," the nine old replied. The bus pastor got to the house early the next morning and found the lights off. He let himself in and snaked his way through the house and found the little boy asleep in his bed. He woke up the little boy and his brother and helped get them dressed. They got on the bus and ate a donut for breakfast on their way to church. Keep in mind that this boy had never been to church before. The church was a real big one. The little kid just sat there, clueless of what was going on. A few minutes into the service these tall unhappy guys walked down to the front and picked up some wooden plates. One of the men prayed and the kid with utter fascination watched them walk up and down the aisles. He still didn't know what was going on. All of a sudden like a bolt of lightning it hit the kid what was taking place. These people must be giving money to Jesus. He then reflected on the free gift of life that he had received just twenty-four hours earlier. He immediately searched his pockets, front and back, and couldn't find a thing to give Jesus. By this time the offering plate was being passed down his aisle and with a broken heart he just grabbed the plate and held on to it. He finally let go and watched it pass on down the aisle. He turned around to see it passed down the aisle behind him. And then his eyes remained glued on the plate as it was passed back and forth, back and forth all the way to the rear of the sanctuary. Then he had an idea. This little nine-year-old boy, in front of God and everybody, got up out of his seat. He walked about eight rows back, grabbed the usher by the coat and asked to hold the plate one more time. Then he did the most astounding thing I have ever heard of. He took the plate, sat it on the carpeted church floor and stepped into the center of it.

As he stood there, he lifted his little head up and said, "Jesus, I don't have anything to give you today, but just me. I give you me!"1

This boy gave to Jesus extravagant love, he gave himself. Mary in our gospel lesson gives of herself as she anoints Jesus' feet with this fragrant oil.

Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem for the Passover and stops in Bethany to visit with his friends, Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. It was six days before the Passover and therefore six days till the passion of Jesus starts.

Mary, Martha and of course Lazarus were well acquainted with Jesus as he had raised Lazarus from the dead. He stopped in for dinner, or supper and a brief visit while he continued his journey to Jerusalem.

Martha was doing the serving, as we know she always did quite well. Martha did not sit at the feet of Jesus, but she always went about her tasks and I would guess with love, joy and a willingness to serve. Notice Jesus did not condemn her for her service, but allowed her to cook and serve. Serving others is honorable.

A story about the late speaker of the House Sam Rayburn and his serving others

The teenage daughter of a friend of his died suddenly one night. Early the next morning the man heard a knock on his door, and, when he opened it, there was Mr, Rayburn standing outside.

The Speaker said, "I just came by to see what I could do to help."

The father replied in his deep grief, "I don’t think there is anything you can do, Mr. Speaker. We are making all the arrangements."

"Well," Mr. Rayburn said, "have you had your coffee this morning?"

The man replied that they had not taken time for breakfast. So Mr. Rayburn said that he could at least make coffee for them. While he was working in the kitchen, the man came in and said, "Mr. Speaker, I thought you were supposed to be having breakfast at the White House this morning."

"Well I was," Mr. Rayburn said, "but I called the President and told him I had a friend who was in trouble, and I couldn’t come."2

The speaker of the house made coffee as a way of serving. It was not beneath him to serve.
Our story of Mary, Martha and Lazarus continues.

Lazarus was sitting at the table with Jesus and then something quite unexpected happened.

As the text says:"3 Mary took a pound of costly ointment of pure nard and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped his feet with her hair; and the house was filled with the fragrance of the ointment."RSV

Why did she do this? And as we see later on in the text, this anointing was usually done for a funeral. As Jesus said, "Let her alone, let her keep it for the day of my burial."

Did Mary know something that everyone else didn't? Or was she just showing her gratitude to Jesus for raising her brother? Or was she expressing the love in her heart she had for Jesus?

I think this act of Mary's was an act of love. An act of love toward Jesus because she sensed he was indeed someone who was truly special. And as the events unfold in the next days, we see this anointing was a fore shadowing of what was to come. Jesus was not anointed after His death, so this anointing was something planned ahead of time. Mary probably did not know it, but Jesus did.

Jesus knew his time was coming. He knew the cross was just down the road, so that is why he allowed Mary to anoint him. In some way, this anointing was something that Jesus needed. He needed to be anointed.

Mary had to express her love for Jesus and this was the best way she could. Yes, it was extravagant, yes it was costly, but it was her expression of love for Jesus. And as we see in verse 7 she did not use it all, but some was saved!!

Are we extravagant with our love for Jesus? Or do we hold back? How do we express our love for Jesus? We can't anoint Him as Mary did. But we can worship him and we can serve him by serving others.

Mary's extravagant gift filled the house with a wonderful smell. You know how it is when you make home made bread and the whole house is filled with the aroma. Mary's act was just like that. It filled the whole house with her love.

And Jesus wants us to do the same thing today. He wants us to fill our world with the aroma of love.

Jesus wants us to be hospitable to others. He wants us to welcome people into our world and treat them as guest as Mary did. She treated Jesus as a very special guest in her home as she annointed him with oil as an act of worship. He wants our world to be filled with the aroma of hospitality.

Loving other might be difficult but as seen in the follow, what other choice do we have?

"We become vulnerable when we love people and go out of our way to help them."

That’s what the wealthy industrialist Charles Schwab declared after going to court and winning a nuisance suit at age 70.

Given permission by the judge to speak to the audience, he made the following statement: "I’d like to say here in a court of law, and
speaking as an old man, that nine-tenths of my troubles are traceable to my being kind to others. Look, you young people, if you want to steer away from trouble, be hard-boiled. Be quick with a good loud no to anyone and everyone. If you follow this rule, you will seldom be bothered as you tread life’s pathway.

Except you’ll have no friends, you’ll be lonely, and you won’t have any fun!" Schwab had made his point -- love may bring heartache, but it’s worth it! 3

Love my bring heartace, but it's worth it. It is worth it to have freinds. It is worth it because Jesus commands us to love, to fill our world with the aroma of hospitatlity.

Love may bring heartache, but it’s worth it!

Amen

Written by Pastor Tim Zingale March19, 2007

You may freely use this but please give credit. Not for commercial use.


1 From a sermon Michael Hensley found at www.sermoncentral.com

2 SOURCE: Nelson’s Complete Book of Stories, Illustrations, and Quotes, Robert J. Morgan Contributed by: SermonCentral

3 Contributed by: Davon Huss from SermonCentral Newsletter

4th Sunday in Lent Sermon

4th Sunday in Lent

Luke 15: 1-3, 11b-32

"The God of Unmatched Shoes"

"Now the tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to hear him. And the Pharisees and the scribes murmured, saying, "This man receives sinners and eats with them." So he told them this parable:" Luke 15:1-3, RSV.


"And he said, "There was a man who had two sons; and the younger of them said to his father, 'Father, give me the share of property that falls to me.' And he divided his living between them. Not many days later, the younger son gathered all he had and took his journey into a far country, and there he squandered his property in loose living. And when he had spent everything, a great famine arose in that country, and he began to be in want. So he went and joined himself to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would gladly have fed on the pods that the swine ate; and no one gave him anything. But when he came to himself he said, 'How many of my father's hired servants have bread enough and to spare, but I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me as one of your hired servants."' And he arose and came to his father. But while he was yet at a distance, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. And 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 servants, 'Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet; and bring the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and make merry; for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.' And they began to make merry. "Now his elder son was in the field; and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the servants and asked what this meant. And he said to him, 'Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has received him safe and sound.' But he was angry and refused to go in. His father came out and entreated him, but he answered his father, 'Lo, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command; yet you never gave me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your living with harlots, you killed for him the fatted calf!' And he said to him, 'Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. It was fitting to make merry and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found.'"" Luke 15:11-32, RSV.


Grace and peace to your form our Lord and Saviour, Jesus who is the Christ. Amen

A young girl grows up on a cherry orchard just above Traverse City, Michigan. Her parents, a bit old-fashioned, tend to overreact to her nose ring, the music she listens to, and the length of her skirts. They ground her a few times, and she seethes inside. "I hate you!" she screams at her father when he knocks on the door of her room after an argument, and that night she acts on a plan she has mentally rehearsed scores of times. She runs away. She has visited Detroit only once before, on a bus trip with her church youth group to watch the Tigers play. Because newspapers in Traverse City report in lurid detail the gangs, drugs, and violence in downtown Detroit, she concludes that is probably the last place her parents will look for her. California, maybe, or Florida, but not Detroit.

Her second day there she meets a man who drives the biggest car she’s ever seen. He offers her a ride, buys her lunch, arranges a place for her to stay. He gives her some pills that make her feel better than she’s ever felt before. She was right all along, she decides: her parents were keeping her from all the fun. The good life continues for a month, two months, a year. The man with the big car--she calls him "Boss"--teaches her a few things that men like.

Since she’s underage, men pay a premium for her. She lives in a penthouse and orders room service whenever she wants. Occasionally she thinks about the folks back home, but their lives now seem so boring and provincial that she can hardly believe she grew up there. She has a brief scare when she sees her picture printed on the back of a milk carton with the headline, "Have you seen this child?" But by now she has blond hair, and with all the makeup and body-piercing jewelry she wears, nobody would mistake her for a child. Besides, most of her friends are runaways, and nobody squeals in Detroit.

After a year, the first sallow signs of illness appear, and it amazes her how fast the boss turns mean. "These days, we can’t mess around," he growls, and before she knows it she’s out on the street without a penny to her name. She still turns a couple of tricks a night, but they don’t pay much, and all the money goes to support her habit. When winter blows in she finds herself sleeping on metal grates outside the big department stores. "Sleeping" is the wrong word--a teenage girl at night in downtown Detroit can never relax her guard. Dark bands circle her eyes. Her cough worsens.

One night, as she lies awake listening for footsteps, all of a sudden everything about her life looks different. She no longer feels like a woman of the world. She feels like a little girl, lost in a cold and frightening city. She begins to whimper. Her pockets are empty and she’s hungry. She needs a fix. She pulls her legs tight underneath her and shivers under the newspapers she’s piled atop her coat. Something jolts a synapse of memory and a single image fills her mind: of May in Traverse City, when a million cherry trees bloom at once, with her golden retriever dashing through the rows and rows of blossomy trees in chase of a tennis ball. God, why did I leave, she says to herself, and pain stabs at her heart. My dog back home eats better than I do now. She’s sobbing, and she knows in a flash that more than anything else in the world she wants to go home.

Three straight phone calls, three straight connections with the answering machine. She hangs up without leaving a message the first two times, but the third time she says, "Dad, Mom, it’s me. I was wondering about maybe coming home. I’m catching a bus up your way, and it’ll get there about midnight tomorrow. If you’re not there, well, I guess I’ll just stay on the bus until it hits Canada." It takes about seven hours for a bus to make all the stops between Detroit and Traverse City, and during that time she realizes the flaws in her plan. What if her parents are out of town and miss the message? Shouldn’t she have waited another day or so until she could talk to them? Even if they are home, they probably wrote her off as dead long ago. She should have given them some time to overcome the shock. Her thoughts bounce back and forth between those worries and the speech she is preparing for her father. "Dad, I’m sorry. I know I was wrong. It’s not your fault, it’s all mine. Dad, can you forgive me?" She says the words over and over, her throat tightening even as she rehearses them. She hasn’t apologized to anyone in years.

The bus has been driving with lights on since Bay City. Tiny snowflakes hit the road, and the asphalt steams. She’s forgotten how dark it gets at night out here. A deer darts across the road and the bus swerves. Every so often, a billboard, a sign posting the mileage to Traverse City. Oh, God. When the bus finally rolls into the station, its air brakes hissing in protest, the driver announces in a crackly voice over the microphone, "Fifteen minutes, folks. That’s all we have here."

Fifteen minutes to decide her life. She checks herself in a compact mirror, smooths her hair, and licks the lipstick off her teeth. She looks at the tobacco stains on her fingertips, and wonders if her parents will notice - if they’re there. She walks into the terminal not knowing what to expect, and not one of the thousand scenes that have played out in her mind prepare her for what she sees. There, in the concrete-walls-and-plastic-chairs bus terminal in Traverse City, Michigan, stands a group of 40 brothers and sisters and great-aunts and uncles and cousins and a grandmother and great-grandmother to boot. They are all wearing ridiculous-looking party hats and blowing noisemakers, and taped across the entire wall of the terminal is a computer-generated banner that reads "Welcome home!" Out of the crowd of well-wishers breaks her dad. She looks through tears and begins the memorized speech, "Dad, I’m sorry. I know . . . " He interrupts her. "Hush, child. We’ve got no time for that. No time for apologies. You’ll be late for the party. A banquet’s waiting for you at home." 1

The story I just read is a modern parable of the Prodigal Son.

We know the story of the Prodigal Son well. A son asks his father for his inheritance and then goes off and looses it all. He finally comes to the conclusion that his life is miserable and returns home with the intention of working for the father. But the father throws a party instead, welcoming his son home with open arms.

This story of the Prodigal Son is more than a story about a son who misused the family fortune. It is more than a story of repentance, how this wayward son decided to return home. It is more than a story about the jealous elder son who l stays home grudgingly helping the father manage the family farm. It is much more than all of that.

It is a story about the love, the forgiveness, the acceptance of a father. It is a story about the love God has for each of us. Yes, this story is filled with many truths concerning our Christian pilgrimage on this earth, but the focus of this story lies not with the prodigal son, nor with the jealous elder son.

The focus of the story lies with the father.

We can see right at the beginning of this parable one of he characteristics of this father. His younger son comes to him knowing that one day one-third of the family fortune will be his, and instead of waiting for his father to die to receive it, he asks for his share now. So the father says yes. He divides the family fortune. The older son by law receives two-thirds and the younger one-third. Already we see the love and patience of the father. He could have ordered his son to stay at home, he could have refused to give him his share. But he respects the son's desire for identity and independence and even adventure. His wisdom and experience told him of the dangers his son was going to face on such an adventure. But he knew that his son needed this experience, he need the opportunity of learning first hand, perhaps, even the hard way, that life is more than living it in the fast lane. So, he hands over the fortune, and lets his son go.

While at home, the father and the elder son continue to manage the family farm. But the father is constantly watching, waiting, wondering how the younger son is doing. Then one day it happens. The younger son returns. The father sees him coming off in the distance. He runs to him, but his arms around him, hugs him, welcomes him back into the family. Though the son had hit the bottom, the father lifted him up. Though the boy had stupidly and selfishly squandered his inheritance, the father welcomed him back home. Though the boy disowned his family, the father restored his membership. The father accepted his lost son. He welcomed him back.

The following story speaks about this father very well:

A man who was commissioned to paint a picture of the Prodigal Son. He went into his work fervently, laboring to produce a picture worthy of telling the story. Finally, the day came when the picture was complete, and he unveiled the finished painting. The scene was set outside the father’s house, and showed the open arms of each as they were just about to meet and embrace. The man who commissioned the work was well pleased, and was prepared to pay the painter for his work, when he suddenly noticed a detail that he had missed.

Standing out in the painting above everything else in the scene, was the starkly apparent fact that the father was wearing one red shoe and one blue shoe. He was incredulous. How could this be, that the painter could make such an error? He asked the painter, and the man simply smiled and nodded, assuring the man, “Yes, this is a beautiful representation of the love of God for His children.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, puzzled.

“The father in this picture was not interested in being color-coordinated or fashion-conscious when he went out to meet his son. In fact, he was in such a hurry to show his love to his son, he simply reached and grabbed the nearest two shoes that he could find.

“He is the God of the Unmatched Shoes.” 2

Yes the father in the story of the Prodigal Son is like the God of the unmatched shoes. He hurries to reach out to his son that has returned. He hurries to forgive him not with crossed arms of disapproval, but with outstretched arms of love. The fathers hurries to reassure his son of the love that he has for him. The father hurries so that the son fully understands what is happening. He hurries so much that he puts on the two nearest shoes. He is not concerned about color of matching. He is just concerned about his returning son.

And our God through Jesus Christ is indeed the God of the Unmatched Shoes. The God of the Unmatched Shoes shows us very simply the love, God through Christ has for us. He has shown his love to us in a hurried manner. For God could not wait one more minute to rescues us from our sins through the cross of Calvary. God wants to forgive our wayward ways and accept us into His loving arms as soon as possible.

God is indeed the God of Unmatched Shoes.

Amen

Written by Pastor Tim Zingale March 12, 2007
You may freely use this but please give credit. Not for commercial use.

1A story by Phillip Yancy found in Christianity Today 10/6/97
Prodigal Son by Philip Yancey in his book "What's So Amazing About Grace?"
found at SermonCentral

2 Contributed by: Wayne Major
found at SermonCentral

A sermon for the 3rd Sunday in Lent

Third Sunday in Lent

Luke 13:1-9

"Why God?"

"There were some present at that very time who told him of the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. And he answered them, "Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans, because they suffered thus? I tell you, No; but unless you repent you will all likewise perish. Or those eighteen upon whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them, do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others who dwelt in Jerusalem? I tell you, No; but unless you repent you will all likewise perish." And he told this parable: "A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came seeking fruit on it and found none. And he said to the vinedresser, 'Lo, these three years I have come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and I find none. Cut it down; why should it use up the ground?' And he answered him, 'Let it alone, sir, this year also, till I dig about it and put on manure. And if it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.'"" Luke 13:1-9, RSV.

Grace and Peace to you from our Lord and Saviour, Jesus who is the Christ. Amen

Jesus was asked the age old question in our gospel lesson this morning, why did God Let this happen?

Why did the God allow the tower at Siloam to fall on 18 men? Why?

Why were they more of a sinner than any one else? No answers Jesus.

Why does suffering happen in this world is an age old question. Why sickness, why storms, why accidents? Why?

I would like to share with you an answer to that question written by Bob Perks to a friend that wrote to him upon a tragedy in her life. Bob Perks is a writer and a speaker. He has an e-mail list which I subscribe and you may join also. See the notes at the bottom of this sermon.

""If there is a God, why would He permit this to happen?" she asked of me.

Until recently I struggled to have an answer that I was comfortable with, myself. Yet, at least once a week someone writes to ask me that.

I am not a preacher nor a student of Bible studies. I cannot throw a Bible passage at every circumstance in life. But I have arrived at a point where I feel comfortable with an answer to this question.

I could easily say, "I don't know."

For a while I used the old, "God works in mysterious ways," answer. It seemed to be a good enough, one size fits all reply to a million unexplainable events in life.

But through the course of the past four plus years I've been writing this message, I've come to my own conclusion.

Is it biblically correct? Will it fit every faith represented here? I just don't know.

But when I replied to one of my readers yesterday, it tied into a story line I was about to write and the result was...I felt very comfortable with saying it.

You must know by now that a single word, a phrase, or a look can catch my attention and sparks fly in the creative part of my being. It happened again on Sunday. I was watching a movie and one character asked, "Where's the river if it doesn't rain?"

I immediately grabbed my pen and pad to write it down.

Here's what I heard: "If it weren't for the rain we wouldn't have rivers that take us somewhere else."

All the rain in our lives, all the dark cloudy rainy days that wash away our dreams serve a greater purpose.

Our pain, our loss should take us somewhere else. The experience adds to our lives and moves us in a direction further along life's pathway. Sometimes to a better place than those who have not suffered in life.

Then I read the message from one of my friends.

She was struggling with her reality of God in her life. Unlike before, I didn't hesitate to reply to her. I didn't have to think about my answer. For without a doubt I am completely comfortable with it.

Perhaps today you find yourself in a doubting place because frankly, your life has hit bottom and you are wondering, "Why does God permit this?"

Here is my reply:

Dear Friend,

From the deepest part of my soul I hold by heart out to you, but right now, with the mindset that you are in, there is nothing I can say that you will agree with.

You know me from my writing. You know what I will tell you without even asking...but perhaps that is why you wrote to me today.

I can only tell you there is a God.

He's the same God you loved when things were good in your life. The same God you prayed to when your needs were not as great. Perhaps an illness, a worry, a concern were on your prayer list during other times. You never hesitated to ask His help then, because you trusted Him.
He is the same God your parents were grateful to when you were born and I rejoice in when I call you "friend."

The same God you might have thanked a thousand times and never even realized it.

"Oh, thank God!"

Yes, He permitted this tragedy. Just as He permits every other horrific thing in this world.

Rape, murder, cancer, aids, abortion etc.

Through my 52 years of life I've learned much, suffered some and painfully ached for the world around me. Through all of this I have come to this conclusion. This all comes, I believe, when He permitted us to have "choice." He doesn't force us to believe in Him. He even permits you to write to me denying Him. What He does offer in place of all of this is His love and eternity with those we love who have gone before us.

It is this challenge He gives us. Have the gift of choice over His will and the world will not be a perfect place. And so it is.

It was NOT His will to have this happen to you. But your redemption? If you believe in Him still, even after a terrible life, eternity will be the reward.

Choose not to believe and all that you have accomplished, all that you ever prayed for will be in vain.

Now, my friend. I know you didn't write to me hoping that I would agree with you. You wrote to me hoping I'd tell you that you are in pain and mourning and even God will forgive you for doubting Him. But the greatest gift you can now give in return is to stand tall in the face of all this and serve as an example to friends and family, young and old, who are watching you.They are all looking for someone to lead them through this. If no one does then the loss is even greater, for everyone will die in spirit.

That, my friend, is the work of what I call the ugly one. The ugly one rejoices in your loss and then weaves doubt and confusion throughout the hearts and souls of all who love you. The ugly one not only gains joy in your pain, but gains souls in your doubt of God Almighty.

Mourn, my friend. Cry and pound your chest for your loss. God cries with you and lovingly waits for you to turn to Him once again.

I hope and pray that this is what you really wanted to hear. If not, it is, I believe, what you really needed to hear.

So, where's the river if it doesn't rain?"1

I think Bob makes two valid points that are also seen in our gospel lesson this morning.

One, God does not will suffering. He allows it to happen in this less than perfect world. Jesus even talks about accidents when He brings up the subject of the tower of Siloam. Jesus admits there are accidents, suffering in this world. Two situations were brought up, one was concerning the death of some Galileans by Pilate because of their supposed insurrection and the other situation about a tower of Siloam that fell end killed 18 people. Jesus asks a rhetorical questions, asking "Are these people worse sinners because they suffered more, and each time he answers no."

Suffering does not come because people are bad or sinful. Suffering is part of this world. Suffering does not come from an angry God, but from the unredeemed world around us.God is not the angry Judge, judging each deed then giving out the punishment of sickness, death and tragedy as he sees fit. This is not the correct view of God as we see him in scripture, but sadly, many people have this kind of theology. Everything that happens, everything good or bad comes from God.

My brother served his first parish in Massillion, Ohio, as an associate pastor, with the late Pastor Mourice "Mo" White. Pastor White was a very large, strong and vibrant man. During one Lenten season, one of the older, but faithful members of the church came with her husband to an evening Lenten service. As they were leaving the service, the woman somehow fell down the outside flight of steps and broke her hip. For some unknown cause, she did not recover from the hip surgery and died in a few short days. Pastor White stood with the bereaved husband by the casket the night before the funeral.

Many people came to offer their sympathies. Some were saying to the sorrowing husband,"God must of had a plan for this, so accept it." Another said,"It was God's will and we must live by it." Still another said,"Somehow God planned this to test your faith!!" And still another said,"There is a sliver lining in every cloud, you will find God's reason behind this eventually."

Pastor White left that funeral home filled with a very strong emotion of anger at the "babbling", as he put it, he heard that evening. He went to the study and rewrote the beginning of his funeral sermon.

Pastor White began his funeral sermon with this phrase: "My God does not push old ladies down church steps!!!" Then he proceeded to explain that God cannot be blamed or accused for all the brokenness of this world. If God is the author of death, how, how can He be at the same time the author of life as shown through the resurrection we celebrate each Sunday and especially on Easter. Is God the God of the living, or the God of the dead? You cannot have it both ways.

No, God is more than the angry Judge, God is more than a avenging father meting out punishment to fit the crime. There is more to God than this.

The second point that Bob Perks makes is that God cries with us.

God cries with us as we suffer. As Jesus hurt on the cross, he understands our suffering. He experienced our suffering on the cross so he can walk us as we suffer. And Jesus in our gospel lesson tells us parable about God waiting patiently for us. In our suffering, Jesus is with us and wants to redeem us. He wants us to believe in Him. We are to remain in faith even in the face of suffering. In a time of suffering it is not the time to turn from God, but just the opposite, we must turn to Him. We turn to Him so he can redeem the situation.

A closing story ties these two main points together:

The tragedy left the man homeless, widowed and fatherless. Fire had swept through the trailer, and all was lost. It took some time for the full weight of the loss to descent, and when it did, he was nearly crushed. Like Job in the O.T. he would not be comforted...When the gift of shock was lifted, anger, resentment filled every waking thought.

God had not been fair to him. God had not protected his family. He had not come to him with a special visitation to explain the "why" and the "what next". He was in a wilderness as rugged as the Sinai.....The greatest temptation was to add to his losses by forfeiting his faith. He felt justified.

No one would fault him. Some might even support him. He prayed angrily now, daring God to hurt him further, and challenging him to give any reason to hold on to the thin thread of his faith that was left. He prayed angrily, but he prayed, and God could handle it....The anguish continued to mount until one afternoon he uttered a cry so forcefully, it could only be described as a scream. No word was spoken, just a loud angry scream against the forces of heaven and hell, as if to say,"I've hurt all I can, and I've paid my dues for love.... Help me."....

The silence that followed was quieter than silence. A peace was evident for the first time in months. Scripture might have said, "Angels came and ministered unto him. Satan had been overthrown, and health was coming back, for he believed, at last, that God was caring for those he lost. That God was caring for Him. that God could handle his honest anger, his honest emotions, that God can handle all our pent up emotions, feelings, denials running away from the hurts and pain of life.

God can handle it. We must let Him, for when we do, then, we will come to know the great and powerful love and mercy He has for us. God can handle it, period. Let Him.

Amen

Written by Pastor Tim Zingale March 5, 2007
You may freely use this but please give credit. Not for commercial use.


1"I believe in You!"
Bob Perks
Bob@BobPerks.com
web page http://www.bobperks.com/open.htm
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