Prodigal God

Rejoice with Me!
Luke 15:11-32
October 21, 2010

Rev. Selena A. Wright

Do you know why Jesus told this parable?

It all started a little earlier in the text, at the beginning of Chapter 15 we read that Jesus was out preaching and the tax collectors and the sinners were gathering close to listen. These were, the bad guys, or so said the religious leaders of the day. Jesus’ followers were not the well respected folks of the community, just the opposite. The outcasts, the marginalized, these were the people who stayed close to Jesus and Jesus kept near to them. So in verse 2 we read that the Pharisees were grumbling and saying, “this fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”

This was not a compliment. This was a judgment. What kind of example was this man named Jesus who welcomed sinners? Who even eats with them?

And in response to the statement of the Pharisees, offered as an accusation, Jesus tells them three different parables.

First he speaks of a shepherd who has 100 sheep. One of them wanders away and he leaves the 99 to go search for the one who is lost. When he finds it he calls his friends and family together and says, Rejoice with Me for I have found the sheep that was lost.

The second is about a woman who loses one of 10 coins and goes about looking everywhere for it. When she finds it she calls together her family and friends and says, Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that was lost.

And then we arrive at the prodigal son. The story of a father whose son ran away from and upon his return his father ran out to him and said, we must celebrate, and asked his friends and family to rejoice with him for his son was lost and has been found. But the man’s other son, the eldest, was angry and resentful of his brother’s welcome – he was lost too, and his father seeks him out, leaves the party to invite him in and asks, will you rejoice with me?

Where have you found yourself in this story?

I have tried to describe this parable in the past weeks so that we can find ourselves not just in one place, but in two places. We are all the younger son because we all at some point in our lives have run away from God, we have all tried to live or do or believe or hope on our own with no help from anyone, and especially not God. We want to believe that we will be just find on our own and so we leave, we leave God. Until it finally hits us and we realize that we can’t do it on our own and we return home, not even hoping for forgiveness and yet we are welcomed with open arms. Did you find yourself here? Broken, desperate, repentant, humbled – and yet loved, embraced, forgiven?

Or was it the elder brother you really identified with. The one who has lived a good life, made the right choices, done what was expected of him – but not because he wanted to but because he felt he had to. The elder son who was so desperate to receive his father’s approval, that he tried to earn the love that was freely given. And in the end, it made him jealous, bitter and resentful of those who had not worked as hard as he. He, who was unable to rejoice at the return of his brother because it wasn’t fair, because he deserved the party more than his brother. Did you identify with this man who remains a mystery – left outside with an invitation to come in – still unsure what he will do – to rejoice at his brother’s return…that is the question.
Where do you see yourself? Once you find yourself there, ask yourself…what is the point of this parable? Why did Jesus tell it?

Was it a parable for us to find our place, to see ourselves in the younger brother or elder brother or both? Is this a parable about us?

Or is it about more?

I want you to look at what is at the center of the painting. Nothing is very centered but more than anything else, it is not the younger brother, the prodigal as we often call him, and it is certainly not the elder brother who has been pushed to the side and in our painting, removed completely – it is the father. Rembrandt focused the light on him more than anyone else – on his face, his hunched shoulders and on his hands. It’s appropriate, isn’t it, for isn’t this parable not about the sons but about the father.

This is a parable about the prodigal – but not just the prodigal son, this is about the prodigal God.

Yep, you heard me right…the prodigal God.

I don’t think I have ever used the word prodigal in my life unless I was referring to this sc ripture and the son in particular and that has caused a problem. We don’t use the word and so we have forgotten the meaning. I don’t know about you but when I hear the word prodigal I think of recklessness, abandonment, arrogant, ignorant – all words we might ascribe to the son who left home, wasted his inheritance on debauchery and then stumbled home. But that is not the accurate definition of prodigal. Prodigal means reckless extravagance, which is different than recklessness. It also means lavishly abundant.

So it is easy to see that the son was recklessly extravagant in throwing all of his inheritance away on what scripture calls debauchery, you could also say stupid fun. But is it not also true that the father is recklessly extravagant in his forgiveness, is he not lavishly abundant in his love?
This story, this picture could just as easily be about the prodigal God as the prodigal son.
Lets look at it through his eyes. His son tells him I want my inheritance, now, I don’t want to wait till you die. And what does he do?

He lets him go? He gives him what he wants even though it is reckless and extravagant not to mention inappropriate for the son to have asked in the first place. He doesn’t hold his son close, even though the father has the foresight to know the pain that will come to his son, even though he knows he might be lost forever – his love is so lavishly abundant that it lets go…he gives his son the freedom to walk away. For any parent who has dropped a child off at college, you might know a bit of the anxiety and pain of letting go – you want to keep your kids close and safe but you love them enough to let them fall, and make mistakes and maybe worse. Your love frees them to go their own way, no matter how much it hurts you, you are truly reckless in your love.
And when that other child, the one who is close but distant says something hurtful, you calmly and steadily say again and again…I love you, and they say no you don’t, you love my brother more and you say again, I love you. And everytime that love is rejected or misunderstood or not taken seriously your heart breaks but you keep loving and welcoming and inviting.

We spend so much time on these brothers…thinking of the courage and humility it took the younger brother to return to his home…thinking of the change of heart and compassion that it would take the older brother to enter into the party and welcome his brother home…but do we think of the father?

How he was hurt to watch his son go? How he was hurt to watch his son stay – not out of joy but like a slave? How he celebrated at the return of one son and in that moment realized how much he had lost another?

How it feels to love so recklessly?

It sounds awful! It sounds like only a job for God.

And yet, here is this man before us, not a God just a parent.

Henri Nouwen says that whether you are the prodigal son or the elder brother – a return home, a return to the father, is first claiming yourself as the son or as the child of the compassionate father…but nto to end there. To truly come home is to commit to be the son no longer but to become the father.

We are to become the father. The prodigal son with all his recklessness now must turn that into reckless love. The elder brother with all his abundant work and dedication must transform that into abundant humility and compassion. They must grow into their father.

It is hard for us to hear that because this is not a text about us, really, right? It is about God, how much God loves us, how God will always welcome us home. Yes, that is true, but it is also a text about who we are called to be and how we are called to live into the prodigal love we receive from God.

The father in this story risked everything in love. He gave not only his money away to his son, but he gave his heart away as he watched one son leave in rebellion and one son stay out of fear or obligation. Nouwen says that to become the father we have to take part in the discipline of giving – giving of self. Giving ourselves away is not easy, it does not come naturally – what comes naturally are all the experiences of the children – rebellion, self-interest, greed, anger, resentment – but when we realize how God really loves us, forgives us, welcomes us and how much God will risk for us – we know that the ability to give – to give ourselves away – is there. That is what Jesus lived, as a human, and that is what we are called to do. Nouwen says that “giving all becomes gaining all” which we hear from Jesus when we says “anyone who loses his life for my sake…will save it!”

And this parable after all is about salvation, about gaining everything. The father let go, he gave his children the freedom to accept or reject his love but when they returned – (that is wishful thinking – we hope the elder son returned) but if he did and when his younger son returned, he is filled – filled with joy. So full in fact that he wants to share it with others…lets have a party, he says, just like the shepherd, upon finding his lost sheep says to his friends and family, “rejoice with me!” and the woman who found her coin says to those in her life, “rejoice with me!”

This is what God calls for us to do, to rejoice. This is what it means to be the father. To live in joy. And just like giving yourself away it is not easy and often it is not even natural. We want to dwell on the negative, we feel neglected and overlooked, we can count all of our ailments – physical, spiritual, social…and while we shouldn’t sugar coat the challenges of life – like the father we are called to live in joy. It doesn’t matter if your natural inclination is like that of the younger son – to run away or the older son, to do what you are told, when we return home – it is a choice not to continue as we are but to be better, to grow into the father. The father who lives his love in joy. He holds no resentment, he does not protect himself from pain – he has so given himself away in love all he has left is joy. Can you imagine – being so bold as to give away all your pain, all your jealousy, all your resentments, all your old hurts –and to hold on only to joy? What would that change in you? How would that change what comes from you? Do you think the brothers are capable – of living in the joy of their father?

It won’t be easy, joy, too, is a discipline. Nouwen says this discipline is choosing light even though you are surrounded by darkness, choosing life in the face of death, choosing truth in a culture of lies.

When the father sees his son coming up the road, he does not stand and wait. He does not remember the last words his son said to him, how harsh they were, or how they made him feel. Instead he chooses joy – and he runs – he runs to his son and embraces him – and then lifts up his joy and asks others to share in it.

Maybe you are the younger son

Maybe you are the elder son

But know, when you choose to go home – you go home to become the father.

That we must celebrate. Rejoice – rejoice with me! Amen.

Prodigal Brother

Amazing Grace
Luke 15:11-32

October 17, 2010

Rev. Selena A. Wright

I got a letter this week from someone who was quite unhappy with a few things that happened here in worship last Sunday, and I want to share it with you:

Dear First Christian Church:
I don’t even know where to begin. I saw the picture you had up in the sanctuary last week and it was like a slap in the face and then I heard the sermon and another slap. You ignored me completely. I am used to being left out of things – my own father sometimes seems to forget my name, but I expected more of you. You read about me in the scripture, sure, but I wasn’t referenced ONCE during the sermon and that picture, that beautiful Rembrandt painting that stood right beside the pulpit – did you know that is not the complete painting. At least Rembrandt didn’t forget me – actually some have argued that he did and I was added in later, but most reject this. I have requested that the complete picture be displayed this week to show that I was a part of this story, an important part and I am sick and tired of everyone forgetting about me. I am the good son but somehow my brother gets ALL of the attention. Actually it was kind of Rembrandt to include me in this scene because truth be told, I wasn’t there. Again, I was left out. And not because I was out carousing or doing any of the things my brother has done – no I was doing my job, I was working when he decided he was good enough to grace us with his presence. I wasn’t there when father welcomed him back, I wasn’t even told there was going to be a party. Instead I came home from work, a long hard day – mind you – to find out from a servant not only that my brother had come home but that father had slaughtered the fatted calf to celebrate! In that moment my blood was boiling. How dare he, how dare my brother come back here after basically telling father he wished he were dead and then leaving us all and throwing this families money away.

And how dare my father, not only welcome him home but throw him a party as if he has done anything right! He has never done what was right for this family. Even before he left, he hardly worked, he damaged our reputation every chance he got and never respected father the way he should.

I was so mad, and then father comes out and invites me in. Sure he said everything that is his is mine, well of course it is, I have earned it! And then he asked me to join the party but it wasn’t like he even considered cancelling it after I pointed out how much it hurt me that I have never been given a party. Maybe I should just treat father horribly, wander away, lose all my money and then I would get the royal treatment! It’s not right! Its not fair! I have done everything father has ever asked of me, I never left home, look at the picture – I look like my father, I dress like him, and yet…

Well even though I have been here all along…I feel so far away, so distant. No one has been a better son than me, no one is more responsible, giving, dutiful – and yet even in this picture you can see how far away I am from my father, from his embrace…

I am sorry to dump all of this on you but I had just had enough. I am sick of being overlooked. I am tired of being the one who gives and gives and works and works to be overlooked completely. I should be the one my father celebrates, I should be the one in his arms, not my rebel of a brother. I matter, my story matters and I thought you should here it, here it from me. Now I have to decide if I should go into this stupid party or just stay away. Can you relate to me at all?

Have you ever been left out? Have you ever felt the world is unjust? Do people always celebrate all that you do and give and are – I’ll bet you know what I mean. Church folks often do. You all spend so much time talking about my brother but isn’t he a little more like those folks that only show up on Christmas and Easter…what about the rest of you that are here everyday – giving to your church, leading your church, supporting your church. You understand, don’t you, how it hurts to be neglected. You know, that being in the church, singing the songs, often isn’t enough that you do everything you are supposed to do, you pray, you read the Bible, you visit the sick, you come to worship, you tithe, you volunteer and yet sometimes, often even, you feel far away from other people in the church and far away from God. Doesn’t that make you mad!? Don’t you sometimes, just want some recognition, to see that all of your work isn’t in vain?

I don’t know, I can hear the party going on right now, what should I do? Part of me, a big part of me wants to walk away just like my brother did. To leave it all – then they would know how much I did, how much they depended on me. But another part of me wants to go in, to do the right thing like I always do. I need to show father that I too am worthy of his love. To remind him of all that I do and will continue to do so that he will love me like he loves my brother. I want that love so much…

I’ll do anything for it. I’ve done everything for it. Maybe someday, I’ll have it.

Regards,

Elder brother

...

So that was hard to hear. He took us to task a bit and asked some hard questions, questions that shouldn’t be ignored. Can we identify with him? Do we know what he feels like? He seems to think that some folks who are committed to the church, maybe more than anyone, should be able to understand his pain. Because the fact of the matter is a great many of us haven’t ever left. We are the ones that have stayed close to home, we have remained faithful in our service to God. We have done what we were told, given what we were asked to give, showed up when we were needed and even more than that. We have gone over and above and all we ask for is an intimate relationship with God. To be blessed and chosen, to be recognized and appreciated. Just like the elder brother said, of course father loves me, I have earned it! I deserve it! And so we say, we have earned salvation, we deserve it! We have spent our lives showing ourselves and our families and our God that we are worthy of God’s love here on earth and through all eternity.
And yet this story flies in the face of that statement. The prodigal son and a few others like those that work in a vineyard all day who get paid the same as those who work only the last hour…tell us that this is not the way of God. But it is not easy to hear.

I’ll admit it, I struggle here, and I imagine many of you have figured this out. You hear in my sermons, quite often, words like call and go and do and care and share…because I believe in many ways our actions demonstrate to God and the world the conviction and faith of our hearts. I don’t think we are whole in your faith if we think and act on behalf of no one but ourselves. And yet, what the elder brother revealed to us, when he confessed the distance he feels from his father, is that while actions may be the natural response to God’s love – they are not always a response, sometimes they are plea, an attempt, a wish or a game.

We can lie just as easily with our actions as we can with our words. We can tell the world, we can tell God, we can even tell ourselves that we do all that we do because God calls us to do it, but deep down maybe we are not serving God at all. Maybe we are trying to serve ourselves. Feeding the homeless, saying prayers, going to church, welcoming strangers – we do it, not because we want to, but because we fear what would happen if we didn’t. We don’t trust ourselves nor do we trust God enough to love us if we run away from home or if we stay and are not perfect.

But the result doesn’t leave us where we want to be. It leaves us, like the elder brother at a distance, or standing outside of the party – feeling left out, alone, angry, bitter and resentful.
Very, very resentful. We resent our brothers and our sisters – for not doing the right thing, for making messes that we have to clean up. We resent everyone who is included, everyone who hasn’t worked as hard as we have, and maybe most of all and worst of all we resent God – for not being fair, for rewarding the wrong people and ignoring the right ones.

But God comes to us and says, no I have not ignored you, I love you. Will you come to the party, will you let me love you?

It sounds like a silly question doesn’t it. God’s love is what we want, God’s love and favor is what we work for day in and day out. And yet when we try to earn it or win it – we deny it. We are unable to accept God’s unconditional love, because we put the conditions on it. We limit God and God’s love by convincing ourselves or acting so that we are guaranteed love and heaven. And God asks again, will you let me love you? And we try to prove to God that we will but in doing so again and again we say no.

There is a song by David Wilcox that until I was writing this sermon I thought was about a really healthy relationship, a good marriage…but as I prayed and worked through this text and the emotions and insecurities and struggles of the elder brother, all of a sudden this song was about us and God. It is called hard part…it is a plea from God to us…you’ve got a whole heart, give me the hard part, I can love that too…

I want you to listen to the words, read them, find the vulnerability and the risk and then the joy in letting God love us truly unconditionally – hard parts and all…

I see the look that's in your eyes
That says 'I must keep most of me inside
'Cause you'd never love me if I didn't hide
the secrets of my heart”

Well I'm not here for the surface stuff
I just get bored with all that fluff
So show me the edges even if it's rough
And let the real love start

You think your shame and deep disgrace
Are more than I can bear
But you can go to your darkest place
I will meet you there

And I'm strong enough to take it
And I know what you've been through
You've got a whole heart
Give me the hard part
I can love that too

You look at me with some surprise
And I see the doubt that's in your eyes
Like something deep inside you cries
With a hunger to be known
Like a tiger born in a city zoo
There's been no place for what's inside of you
You try to live like the others do
And it leaves you so alone

I know you think that the heat of your pain
Is more than I can stand
Burn it all in one big flame
And I will hold it in my hand

I'm strong enough to take it
And I know what you've been through
You've got a whole heart
Give me the hard part
I can love that too

Now your eyes well up with tears
As desire mixes with you fears
After so many wounded years
Can you long for what you've missed
You want a cool breeze to dance with your flame
A long lost lover who knows your true name
A secret garden beyond this shame
And it all comes down to this

You think your drowning hope will die
In a sea without a shore
But I can drink that ocean dry
And still come back for more

I'm strong enough to take it
And I know what you've been through
You've got a whole heart
Give me the hard part
I can love that too


I'm strong enough to take it
And I know what you've been through
You've got a whole heart
Give me the hard part
I can love that too

You've got a whole heart
Give me the hard part
I can love that too

Whoever we are, whatever we are afraid to show God, this text – the story of the run away son and his disciplined good older brother reveal to us not just that God is forgiving but that we are powerless against God’s love.

As Thomas Fortenberry said, “There is nothing we can do to make God love us less. And there is nothing we can do to make God love us more.”

That, my friends is amazing.

That, is grace.

The Prodigal Son

Running Away from Home
Luke 15:11-32
October 10, 2010

Rev. Selena A. Wright

Did you ever run away from home as a child?

One of the great stories I have heard since I entered into the Wright family is of the big escape that Pat and his sister Adrien made when they were children. They were upset with their parents – no one remembers why – and so they decided home was no longer the place for them. They could do just as well out in the world – without parents to give them rules and to limit their fun.

And these were organized children. When I ran away from home as a child I just took off down the block, as if I were going on a walk, but Pat and Adrien were prepared. They made 3 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, one for each and one to share if necessary, and a box of Kudos bars – a popular candy & granola bar mix as well as a water bottle. Then Pat very strategically tied a wagon to the back of his bicycle so that he could ride his bike while his sister rode in the wagon. He even lined the wagon with his cookie monster sleeping bag so Adrien would have a comfortable ride.

On their way out the door they announced to their parents that they were running away and both remember their surprise that their parents didn’t stop them. And off they went, down the hill in front of the house into the cul-de-sac. When they reached the bottom of the cul-de-sac Pat felt like they had gone a fair distance – after all they had passed 4 houses, so it was probably time for a break. He stopped his bike but unfortunately he hadn’t had the forethought to think about what would happen with the wagon when he tried to stop the bike and a crash ensued. They found a good place to set up on someone’s lawn right at the end of their street. They had their lunch but Adrien’s injuries sustained during the crash were too much for them to handle alone. There was a conversation about how much trouble they would be in if they decided to go home, but both were confident that their parents would care for the scrapes before any punishment ensued – so the best choice was to go home. They packed their lunch back in the wagon and Pat and Adrien walked back home – Pat walking the bike this time with the wagon behind.

I wish I could have been there to see this all unfold. I wish there was some recording of the conversations that took place from the decision to leave, the packing of necessities all the way through the very difficult decision to return home. Its not that unique of a story really – I am sure many of you could tell me stories either of when you ran away from home as a child or when your children decided that home was no longer the place for them. What is it about children that leads them to the conclusion that they would do better out in the world alone then they would in the safety and comfort of the home that they have known.

Maybe it is the fact that they don’t know any different than a life at home, that leads them to make this decision. They don’t have a big enough perspective to see all that they have at home and all that they won’t have away from it. Maybe it is as simple as the human assumption that the grass is always greener on the other side. They venture out into the world because there must be something better than what they have at home. Or maybe it is just about declaring your independence – and identity. Rejecting everything you have known to “make your own way” – to prove to your parents that you don’t need their rules or their food or their care – that you can get by just fine on your own.

But its not just children that do this, is it? We do it all the time, especially in relationships – relationships not only with our parents but with siblings, children, even spouses. I have spoken to couples considering divorce and while some have experienced true brokenness in their relationships others are falling prey to these same emotions – wondering if there is something better out there, seeking independence and freedom from a prescribed identity or desiring the self-satisfaction of making it on your own.

We all worry about these things – we worry that we are not in the best job, in the best relationship. We worry that we are missing out on something or someone. Our self-worth is caught up in being the best, having the best, and doing the best. And part of being the best is not owing anything to anyone. We want to be able to say, “look what I did, all on my own!” For some reason we don’t want to need anything but the shirt on our backs. Call it rugged individualism or being self-centered…it is the way of our world and far too often we buy into it.

***

The story of the prodigal son is well known both in the church and in the world – it is a story about many things but truly it is a story about running away from home. The younger of the two sons tells his father he wants his inheritance now – he wants to leave, to leave his home, to leave his family, to leave everything he has known and not look back. We hear nothing in the scripture about what led him to this decision, probably because it was forgotten like Pat and Adrien can’t remember why they ran away from home. And just as Pat’s parents let their children go – the father gave the son what he was asking for – and the son went on his way. He went to a foreign land where he “squandered his money on a life of debauchery”

The question we must ask ourselves – is why did he go? Was there an incident? Did something happen that sent him over the edge? Or not? Maybe it was simply boredom? Or rebellion that led him to walk away from his life, his family, to walk away from everything and everyone?
And what was he looking for? Was it freedom? Pride in saying he can live on his own – that he doesn’t need anyone? Or was he in search of his own identity, a deeper sense of self? Or was it something else?

Often we run away – in search for something better…we leave not knowing what we are looking for – be it a person or money or fame or fulfillment – we just feel an emptiness and we travel to a distant land to find that which we lack.

Ok, it might not be a distant land for all of us, but we have all run away. Maybe not from our parents, maybe not from the houses we live in – but we have all run away from God. Sometimes we run away from God because we are angry – and like Pat and his sister told their parents, we say to God – if you loved me you wouldn’t be like this, life wouldn’t be like this.

Or we leave because we are bored. It doesn’t seem as though God is offering us what we really want, we are not getting the best of the best – and we just know there is something better out there.

Or we leave because we don’t want to have to trust anyone, we don’t want to owe anyone anything – not the church, not God. We want to show ourselves and the world that we can make it on our own. And we run away from home.

From God…from love.

Henry Nouwen writes, “leaving home is a denial of the spiritual reality that I belong to God with every part of my being, that God holds me safe in an eternal embrace. Leaving home is living as though I do not yet have a home and must look far and wide to find one.”

Nouwen wrote a book about this parable, called the Return of the Prodigal Son where he examines not only the scripture but Rembrandt’s painting of it…this painting that has been hanging in our church for the past 13 years. The painting was given to the church by the elder’s who as I have heard it studied this text with then pastor Don Beal. I imagine those elders read this same book – the book I am basing not only this morning’s sermon on but the next two weeks as well. But that is ok, because hearing this story once, twice, again and again is still not enough. This parable, the parable of the Prodigal Son has been called a mini gospel in and of itself because within it is so much truth and the good news we expect to find in our gospels. But good news in the gospels does not stand alone. It is always the response to pain and suffering and we see in this painting and we know in our hearts the pain and suffering of running away from home, running away from God.

Look at this man. His clothes are dirty and torn, his shoe is tearing off his foot, and he has no hair…which in his culture is a sign of a complete loss of identity – heads were shaven for prisoners or those in concentration camps. As we hear from the text he is weak, hungry, for he was not even permitted to eat the food given to the pigs. He looks nothing like his father – no jewlry or cloak, no beard – and he hopes not for the life that he had before he left, but to be treated as one of his father’s hired men, just for a job and food, not for the home that he abandoned. But according to Rembrandt’s painting – he has one thing that remains…a sword. Certainly a sword he left home with – his last and only tie to his father, his family. Nouwen points out that he could have sold it for food but he clung to it, remembering that if nothing else he is someone’s son.

And now he kneels before his father, not asking to be forgiven, not asking to be welcomed into the family – just asking for survival. He can’t even dream of reclaiming what he left.
What if we were to ask this man…the one bruised and broken – physically and spiritually – why he left. Will he remember? Certainly the specifics are not important because they didn’t make it into the gospel, but I imagine he would say…
I left to find exactly what I had.

We have all run away from home, we have all run away from God’s love and Nouwen confesses for himself and for all of us when he says, “I am the prodigal son every time I search for unconditional love where it cannot be found.”

We have all run away from home, run away from God looking for exactly that which God promises us. Sometimes we leave God for the love of another person – which feels right for a time – as relational love is an expression of divine love – but it is not the same, not as full, as whole as God’s love.

We run away from God trying to love ourselves, to find ourselves but the farther we get from home the less we know who we are at all.

Sometimes even we in the church and sometimes even the church runs away from God – we trust in our rituals and our community and our leaders and our music so much that in the good times and in the bad we put the church before God. Yes, we can run away from home, even in the church.

But there will be that day – when our hunger will be too much, or when our knees are scraped and we will realize that all that we want, all that we need is exactly what we have run away from…

and God will call to us…Come home…come home…ye who are weary come home…earnestly tenderly Jesus is calling, calling O sinner come home.