Pasadena Presbyterian Church Sermon Text
March 21, 2004

"To Give and To Gain"

Preached by The Rev. Dr. Barbara Anderson

Scripture:  II Corinthians 5:16-21; Luke 15:11b-32

Usually when I read the story of the Prodigal Son, I imagine myself in each of the different roles, depending on what I happen to be feeling in my life and how prayerful I happen to be as I am reading the text. 

At times I am the son who wants to live free of all responsibility and intruding familial eyes, going off to sow wild oats and returning home to God, full of guilt and shame for the pain I have caused.  At other times, I am the older brother, who lives a rather straight arrow, conservative life, takes seriously responsibility and duty, tries not to disappoint my parents, and becomes angry at those who do not take their responsibilities as seriously.  And sometimes, I try to imagine myself in the role of the parent, responding graciously to those who fit into the categories of the two sons, trying to imagine God's great love for us as we are welcomed home.

There are many different perspectives possible to us as we read the story of the prodigal son. As we hear this passage today, I invite you to reflect on yet another perspective:  the losses that were involved for the two sons and the father, and particularly the losses they choose intentionally in order to have the joy of restoration and reconciliation. 

This particular perspective on this story came to me as I stayed home much of this week, nursing my throat and reflecting on my own loss of imagined invincibility.  I took off the shelf, a book I reread periodically:  Judith Viorst's book, "Necessary Losses:  The loves, illusions, dependencies and impossible expectations that all of us have to give up in order to grow."  Viorst writes about our approach to loss, much of which in life is not chosen, but to which we can choose our response.  There are also those losses in life which we intentionally choose.  There are times when we decide to choose loss, to sacrifice, to give up parts of ourselves that keep us from God and one another, or parts of ourselves that we need to give to God for a greater good.  I invite you to listen to Viorst's words in the context of this morning's scripture and reflect on the prodigal son from this perspective of necessary losses.

"When we think of loss, we think of the loss, through death, of people we love.  But loss is a far more encompassing theme in our life.  For we lose not only through death, but also by leaving and being left, by changing and letting go and moving on.  And our losses include not only our separations and departures from those we love, but our conscious and unconscious losses of romantic dreams, impossible expectations, illusions of freedom and power, illusions of safety and the loss of our own younger self, the self that thought it always would be unwrinkled and invulnerable and immortal.

"Somewhat wrinkled, highly vulnerable and non-negotiably mortal, I have been examining these losses.  These lifelong losses.  These necessary losses.  These losses we confront when we are confronted by the inescapable fact . . .

• that our mother is going to leave us, and we will leave her;

• that what hurts us cannot always be kissed and made better;

• that we will have to accept in other people and ourselves the mingling of love with hate, of the good with the bad;

• that our options are constricted by anatomy and guilt;

• that no matter how wise and charming a girl may be she still cannot grow up to marry her dad;

• that there are flaws in every human connection;

• and that we are utterly powerless to offer ourselves or those we love protection --- protection from danger and pain, from the inroads of time, from the coming of age, from the coming of death; protection from our necessary losses.

"These losses are a part of life universal, unavoidable, inexorable.  And these losses are necessary because we grow by losing and leaving and letting go.  This book [and this sermon are] about the vital bond between our losses and gains ... about what we give up in order to grow.  For the road to human development [and Christian salvation] is paved with renunciation. 

"Throughout our life we grow by giving up.  The losses entailed in moving away from our parents and gradually becoming a separate self.  The losses involved in facing the limitations of our power and potential and deferring to what is forbidden and what is impossible.  The losses of relinquishing our dreams of ideal relationships for the human realities of imperfect connections.  And the losses - the multiple losses of the second half of life, of [what she calls] our final losing, leaving, letting go." (Excerpts from pp 15-18)

Each of us knows the truth that we do grow by giving up parts of our self, our illusions, our wrongful pride, our spite, our resentment, our inflated sense of self.  This was true for the prodigal son, as well.  In order to return to his father and ask to be a servant, he had to give up his inflated sense that he could do anything he wanted without worrying about its consequences.  He had to give up his false belief that he was independent and self-sufficient.  He had to give up his arrogant posture towards his family and everyone else.  He had to give up his delusion that he was omnipotent, invincible, and immortal.  He had to sacrifice a part of himself that he had long considered central to his being, but had now realized was actually getting in the way of life. 

Are we not like that son?  Needing to give up our misguided delusions of independence that think we don't need God or anyone else close to our deepest heart. We need to give that up because in the deepest part of our life we really do long for the wholeness of life that comes only from connection with other people and with the God who made the whole world and made us, too. 

Are we not like that younger son?  Needing to sacrifice our arrogant, inflated sense of self that holds and hoards what we have because we realize that it is bankrupt and so we need to give it up?  We drive bigger SUVs that cause more pollution and we build new rooms to hold our new gadgets until we realize that what we have is bankrupt and in humility, we turn to God for deeper and truer values, and a richer life. 

Are we not like that younger son?  We run harder, play faster, and strive for higher levels, and then we realize that the humble people who are focused on serving God, though they live and work in simple quarters, are much happier than we.  When the son was finally willing to sacrifice his pride, and return home, the celebration was beyond anything he could have thought possible.  Have you ever felt that joy in yourself, when you have given something up for a greater good, and been astounded by how wonderful you felt afterwards, in ways you never expected?

Remember, too, the father's sacrifice.  His sacrifice was great in order to accept and receive his wayward son.  When the son left with half the inheritance, it was as if declaring the father dead.  In that culture, one only inherited upon the other's death.  The father was willing to sacrifice his standing in the community among those who would expect retaliation and punishment for a son who had brought such disgrace on the family.  The father had the right to make his son pay for what he had done and the grief he had caused.  In order to have his heart in the right place, he weighed which was more important: the letter of the law or the law of love?  He gave up his right to retribution, and grace came pouring out instead.  Reconciliation was possible through his sacrificial love.  It sounds like God on the cross in Jesus Christ, doesn't it? 

We do not know if the older son was ever able to sacrifice his self-righteousness and resentment in order to receive the abundant love that pouring out.  We don't know if he was able to give up his sense of  entitlement to all the goods and property that surrounded him and which he had shepherded so carefully, but which were now needed in part to celebrate the return of the lost brother. 

I suppose that's the question outstanding for us, isn't it?  God calls us, as followers of Christ, to sacrifice, not just on our behalf but on the world's behalf, for a greater glory.  "Leave your homes and follow me," Jesus says.  "Sell what you have and give it to the poor.  Lose your life for my sake and you will find it.  Take up my cross and your burden will be light." 

Many of us are giving sacrificially to PPC's annual operating and mission budget.  For that commitment to the work of Jesus Christ through this church, all of us are grateful, and God is grateful.  Our capital campaign, Share the Vision:  Building Sacred Space for a Bright Future, invites all of us to consider further sacrificial giving, giving up something important for something even more important.  Please pick up your packet on the patio and consider prayerfully the materials there and ones you will receive through the mail. 

These gifts are not primarily about buildings, or restrooms or even more comfortable pew cushions.  These gifts are vessels through which God's work of love, and grace and reconciliation are accomplished.  They make possible the voices and hands, the tables and classrooms, both here and worldwide through which God's love welcomes sons and daughters home to a feast of love and grace.

The Christian life calls us to make choices.  It calls us to a ministry of reconciliation that is only possible when we give up that which we hold dear, and that to which we feel entitled.  In the story of the prodigal son, both sons and father had to be willing to sacrifice in order to be part of God's work of love and grace.  So too, in our daily life, we are called to make choices, to give up, to make sacrifices and therefore to make gains in God's ministry of reconciliation:

• We choose to care for a loved one whose health is failing.  That's a sacrifice.  That's giving something up for God. 

• We choose to listen to a friend who is grieving.  That's giving something to God.

• We choose to drive a smaller car, or even ride the Gold Line. 

• We choose face troubles with courage and grace, instead of with bitterness, resentment and paralysis.  We choose to forgive even while we wisely protect ourselves from further harm.  Those are choices of giving up the hard places in our lives ...  for life. 

• We choose to use our talents instead of hiding them, and we choose to use them for good instead of only for personal gain.  These are choices of faithful living, of choosing God's way and turning our back on the world's way. 

• We choose to sacrifice for a greater good.  That is the call of the Christian life.

Sacrifice and celebration: loss and gain. 

Humility and grace: loss and growth. 

Crucifixion and resurrection: loss and life. 

This is the Christian calling, this Lent and always.  Amen.

(c) Copyright 2004 by Barbara A. Anderson.  All rights reserved.  Permission granted for non-profit use with attribution.