You Can Go Home Again

Sunday, January 19, 2020

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-24

 

Do you know that feeling of wanting something and not knowing what it is? Many of us have that feeling late at night as we stand staring into the refrigerator, hungry for something, but not seeing exactly that we want. We finally settle on something – and it fills the hole in our stomach – but often it doesn’t really satisfy.

I think we come to worship on Sunday mornings with the same sort of desire – we want something although we can’t quite name what it is – yet we have a deep sense that we can find it here.  Sometimes we do find it – and we leave here knowing we have encountered the living God. Other times we leave longing for more. Our hearts are restless, we are hungry; we are craving something that we can’t quite describe. And we know we won’t be whole until we find it.

Every marketer knows about this restless desire – it is how human beings are wired. We humans go out into the world, searching for that thing that will satisfy. We scan Amazon or Ebay, or we wander through Tanger Outlets or Walmart, or we watch the Home Shopping Network, searching – searching for something that will quiet our cravings, at least for a while. And often we even buy something, only to get it home and realize that we don’t really feel any better – our hearts are still restless. And we all recognize that buying the newer, bigger, better version also doesn’t ultimately satisfy our deepest desires – and yet we still want it.

Some of us take this desire to the next level. We turn to alcohol or drugs, and they do quiet our cravings – sort of. Or we become hoarders, accumulating all sorts of stuff – but it is never enough. Or we turn to sex or pornography, hoping to satisfy our deepest desires. Or we become work-a-holics, thinking we can change the world if we just work hard enough. And it is never enough. We are never satisfied. We are always restless for something more.

We often call today’s parable the Prodigal Son, which speaks to his actions – he certainly spent his money recklessly. Today I’m going to call this parable the Restless Son. He was clearly searching for something. If you think about it, he had everything. Clearly his father was quite wealthy. I imagine that his father was a farmer, with land and animals and a beautiful home and servants. There was abundance, and life was good. But the younger son was restless. This life wasn’t satisfying to him. Even though he had everything he needed, he was looking for something more.

I suspect many of us can relate to the Restless Son. Many of us have had the experience of wanting something more than what we found at home. It is not at all unusual, especially for a young adult, to go out into the world and push limits and explore possibilities, hoping to find his or her heart’s desire.But in this parable something unusual happens; the restless son is bold enough to ask for his inheritance first. It is as if he is saying to his father, you are as good as dead to me anyway, so give me everything that will be mine when you die. Then I can leave this place and find the life that is truly life.

And the amazing thing is that his father gave him exactly what he wanted. He divided his estate between his two sons and gave the restless son his portion. And off the son went, with his pockets full of money, not looking back at all, ready to satisfy his every desire in a foreign land. The grass is always greener on the other side.

But here’s the thing. He spent and he spent and he spent and he squandered everything – he spent it all buying the most extravagant items, throwing the biggest parties, and enjoying the most beautiful women. And after he spent all his money, there he was – friendless and hungry, and in a foreign land. He had had a lot of fun, but none of it had really satisfied.

Most of us have never carried our desires to quite this extreme. And yet, according to Dave Ramsey, the average American is $34,000 in debt. We haven’t received an inheritance from our parents – instead we have received credit. And some of us have squandered our resources. Others of us have done good things – like go to school or buy a car. But still, at the end of the day we are craving something more, and now we are stuck with all these bills!

At this point shame kicks in. I can’t tell you how many people I’ve talked to who say, “I want to come to church, but I need to get my act together first.”  Or, “I want to tithe, but I am in so much debt.” Or, “I’ve screwed up so badly that no one will ever want to be my friend.” It is so easy to be ashamed of the many different ways we have tried to satisfy our desires. Think of Adam and Eve. They realized they were naked after eating the apple, and they were ashamed. None of us is immune – this is our human condition – we are all hungry for something more, and yet, when we taste what we thought we wanted we realize our nakedness and we become ashamed.

The restless son was clearly ashamed. He had nothing. In fact, as a good Jew, he was willing to settle for eating the same food the pigs ate just to fill his stomach. How could he have stooped so low? In that moment he realized just what his father had given him and how he had thrown away everything that was truly of value. And in that moment, like the alcoholic who takes that first step, he acknowledged that his life had become unmanageable and he needed help.

Thankfully, most of us never get to that point. Our lives don’t become unmanageable. We are able to muddle along, paying the minimum on our credit cards and hiding our shame. We do a good job of pretending that everything is okay. We work and we spend time with friends and we come to church, and we never talk about just how unsatisfied we really are. And perhaps we fill our days with enough activity that it is only as we stare into the refrigerator late at night that we truly realize just how much we long for something more – and it really isn’t a late night snack.

Augustine said that our hearts are restless until we find our rest in God. The restless son finally realized that even his father’s servants had it better than he did. His father was gracious and kind and abounding in steadfast love. It was worth swallowing all his shame and guilt and going home.

Here’s the thing. We know God is gracious and kind and abounding in steadfast love. We know it. And yet we want to keep our feet in both worlds – we want to be able to come home to God and still live in the foreign land we call our daily lives. Our daily lives aren’t quite bad enough for us to call them unmanageable. And so we try to satisfy our desires both ways – through our faith in the living God and through our faith in our culture.

You can’t live in both worlds and be truly satisfied.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, God wants all of you. Our hearts are restless until they find their rest in God, and God alone. This is the first step toward embracing simplicity: letting go of the desires of this world and coming home. Now I’m not telling you to stop loving your family – our God is a deeply relational God, a God who loves us and calls us to love one another. And I’m not telling you to stop working or to quit doing the things you love to do either – these are all ways we live out our God given calling in the world. 

What I am inviting you to do is to put God first in all things. Put God first in your week. There’s a reason we are here on Sunday – it is the first day of the week. We start our week in worship. Put God first every morning. Start your day with prayer and devotion. Put God first in your giving. Give God the first portion of your income and the first fruits of your harvest. And put God first in your relationships. Let God’s love guide your actions and your speech. Desire God more than anything else.  

Something amazing happens when we put God first in all things. We realize God has been standing there the whole time waiting for us to come home. God has been watching for us. And when we appear on the horizon, ready to reorder our priorities, God kicks into high gear, getting ready for the biggest party we’ve ever seen. And we are welcomed home with open arms. We are welcomed as a child and not a servant. We are welcomed and called beloved. And our deepest desires are finally satisfied.

Come home. Let go of your earthly desires and embrace our God who desires deeply to be in relationship with you. God is waiting for you with open arms, eager to greet you with the biggest party you’ve ever seen. We get a foretaste of that feast right here at this Table – a reminder that God so loved the world that he gave his only Son. It is a simple feast of bread and juice, a profound foretaste of God’s abundant grace, given for you and for many.

Come home. And embrace God’s amazingly simple gift of grace poured out for you and for many through the gift of God’s only Son.