What Pastor Jon Preached on Sunday, March 28th, 2010

Passion/Palm Sunday
Processional Gospel: Luke 19:28-40
Isaiah 50:4-9a • Psalm 31:9-16 • Philippians 2:5-11 • Luke 23:1-49

^{23456789101112}"Then the assembly rose as a body and brought Jesus before Pilate. They began to accuse him, saying, “We found this man perverting our nation, forbidding us to pay taxes to the emperor, and saying that he himself is the Messiah, a king.” Then Pilate asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” He answered, “You say so.” Then Pilate said to the chief priests and the crowds, “I find no basis for an accusation against this man.” But they were insistent and said, “He stirs up the people by teaching throughout all Judea, from Galilee where he began even to this place.” When Pilate heard this, he asked whether the man was a Galilean. And when he learned that he was under Herod’s jurisdiction, he sent him off to Herod, who was himself in Jerusalem at that time. When Herod saw Jesus, he was very glad, for he had been wanting to see him for a long time, because he had heard about him and was hoping to see him perform some sign. He questioned him at some length, but Jesus gave him no answer. The chief priests and the scribes stood by, vehemently accusing him. Even Herod with his soldiers treated him with contempt and mocked him; then he put an elegant robe on him, and sent him back to Pilate. That same day Herod and Pilate became friends with each other; before this they had been enemies.

¹³Pilate then called together the chief priests, the leaders, and the people, ¹⁴and said to them, “You brought me this man as one who was perverting the people; and here I have examined him in your presence and have not found this man guilty of any of your charges against him. ¹⁵Neither has Herod, for he sent him back to us. Indeed, he has done nothing to deserve death. ¹⁶I will therefore have him flogged and release him.” ¹⁸Then they all shouted out together, “Away with this fellow! Release Barabbas for us!” ¹⁹(This was a man who had been put in prison for an insurrection that had taken place in the city, and for murder.) ²⁰Pilate, wanting to release Jesus, addressed them again; ²¹but they kept shouting, “Crucify, crucify him!” ²²A third time he said to them, “Why, what evil has he done? I have found in him no ground for the sentence of death; I will therefore have him flogged and then release him.” ²³But they kept urgently demanding with loud shouts that he should be crucified; and their voices prevailed. ²⁴So Pilate gave his verdict that their demand should be granted. ²⁵He released the man they asked for, the one who had been put in prison for insurrection and murder, and he handed Jesus over as they wished.

²⁶As they led him away, they seized a man, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming from the country, and they laid the cross on him, and made him carry it behind Jesus. ²⁷A great number of the people followed him, and among them were women who were beating their breasts and wailing for him. ²⁸But Jesus turned to them and said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. ²⁹For the days are surely coming when they will say, ‘Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bore, and the breasts that never nursed.’ ³⁰Then they will begin to say to the mountains, ‘Fall on us’; and to the hills, ‘Cover us.’ ³¹For if they do this when the wood is green, what will happen when it is dry?”

³²Two others also, who were criminals, were led away to be put to death with him. ³³When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. ³⁴Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” And they cast lots to divide his clothing. ³⁵And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!” ³⁶The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, ³⁷and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” ³⁸There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.” ³⁹One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” ⁴⁰But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? ⁴¹And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” ⁴²Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” ⁴³He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

⁴⁴It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, ⁴⁵while the sun’s light failed; and the curtain of the temple was torn in two. ⁴⁶Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Having said this, he breathed his last. ⁴⁷When the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God and said, “Certainly this man was innocent.” ⁴⁸And when all the crowds who had gathered there for this spectacle saw what had taken place, they returned home, beating their breasts. ⁴⁹But all his acquaintances, including the women who had followed him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things."

Did you notice it? Did you catch it? When did that moment of realization come for you? In the span of just a few minutes, we have traversed six days of the Holy Week story of Jesus. When did you notice the transition from Palm Sunday celebration, to Good Friday lament? Was it the invitation to contemplate Jesus’ “passion”, the name we give to Jesus’ last days before crucifixion? Was it the servant song of Isaiah, echoing Jesus’ torture: “I gave my back to those who truck me…” (Is. 50:6) Or was it Paul’s “Christ hymn” to the Philippians, reminding us that Jesus’ triumphal entry to Jerusalem didn’t get to his head, but rather he “emptied himself, taking the form of a slave…” (Ph. 2:7)? Or was it the passion story from Luke, with our very own words that sadly put Jesus on the cross: “Crucify! Crucify him!” (23:21) At this point we may feel as if this sudden transition from one extreme to the other has driven a nail into our uplifted hearts, just as the very words of “Crucify him!” nail Jesus to the cross in brutal fashion.

What happened to Palm Sunday? Some of us may remember a time years ago when Palm Sunday was not Passion/Palm Sunday, but focused just on Jesus’ royalty and power that reign with servant-like humility. With the liturgical renewal coming out of the Roman Catholic Church’s Vatican II council in the 1960’s, and the revision of the common lectionary many years later, it was decided that because so many cannot attend services on the great Three Days—Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and the Saturday Vigil of Easter—many could go right from the joyful Palm Sunday procession, to the joyful Sunday appearance of the resurrected Jesus . Today becomes Passion-slash-Palm Sunday so we can all see that we cannot get to Easter resurrection without the cross. What happened to Palm Sunday? It is celebration tinged with the awareness that our voices that shout “Hosanna in the highest!” will be the same voices that demand Jesus to die.

Our palms themselves carry that same conflictedness of joy and lament as our voices. Cheryl Pinter, who has been working for many years at this church as a custodian, made a profound observation this week to me as we were talking about preparing for Holy Week. While many of these palms today get brought home and will turn into crosses, others will be left here, or thrown into the trash. Cheryl told me that every year she always retrieves these palms that get left behind. She told me she brings them home and puts them in her garden—or somewhere where they can be seen as a prayerful reminder of Jesus. To Cheryl these aren’t just any branches. These are precious palms that give praise to the Lord of our lives. These branches may seem silent, but indeed, they too sing out to bless the one who comes in the name of the Lord.

At the same time, these palms also sing a tune of despair, that they, along with us, and along with Jesus, will die. With the palms that do not get taken home today and are left here, Cheryl and I will be storing these precious palms until next year, when they will be burned to become the ashes that mark our foreheads on Ash Wednesday. These palms of praise will mark our heads with the cross and the words we heard at the start of this Lenten season, “From dust you came, and to dust you shall return.”

Although what we hold in our hands today holds both the joy of our songs of praise, and the brokenness of the ashes to which we will return, it is at the intersection of those two places where Jesus holds these things together. Jesus feels them both on the cross. Jesus’ throne isn’t that processional colt; it isn’t being the focus of a victory parade. Jesus’ throne is the cross, where he wrestles with that same question we ask today: how can this palm-waving crowd so full of love and passion for Christ so quickly become cruel and violent and vindictive?

As quickly as we transition today from life to death, we are moved even more quickly from shouts, to silence, as we stand at the cross with the disciples. As Jesus hangs on the tree, we see the tragic reality of our nature.

But on the cross we also see the depths of Jesus’ faithfulness, and the depths of his compassion for us. For Jesus, this is not the end. The cross is his beginning of new life. God’s power is at work in him, and in us, even in the midst of tragedy, scandal and pain—even as we strain to see God at work.

This Holy Week, I invite us to watch the faithful and compassionate depths Jesus goes to for us, and follow him. Let us follow him as he washes our feet, breaks bread with us, empties himself for us—just as we will empty this chancel bare and strip it bare at the end of the Maundy Thursday liturgy. Let us follow him as he walks to the cross in solidarity with us—just as the cross will be processed down the aisle to this chancel on Good Friday. Let us follow him as he rests with us in death in the tomb, and as he joins with those newly baptized into his death and into his resurrection on Saturday’s Vigil of Easter.

As Jesus lies on the cross, seeing us watching him, he puts our shame to death. As we stand as the church at the forefront of this Holy Week, what is Jesus putting to death in our lives? What is Jesus putting to death in the world? What is Jesus ending as he lies on the cross? I invite us all, as we watch Jesus go all the way for us during the Three Days, I invite us to see Jesus putting to death that which leaves us and our world at a dead end. I invite us to consider what fears does Jesus most need to put an end to this year—fears about the economy, fears about sicknesses we face…whatever it is, turn them over to God, so that Jesus can put them to death, and again open us up to new life and a new beginning. It may not be the new beginning we expect, or want, but Jesus promises to bond us to his new life out of the depths of his cross.

As he is crucified, Jesus seems silent as a stone as he is crucified. But his cross still shouts out “Hosanna” and “Glory be!” at his putting to death anything that separates the love of God from us. Nothing can ever keep us from hearing this choral strain of praises raising up to our Sovereign who reigns from the cross: Jesus, who is our Christ. Amen.

What Pastor Jon Preached on Sunday, March 21st, 2010

5th Sunday of Lent
Isaiah 43:16-21 • Psalm 126 • Philippians 3:4b-14 • John 12:1-8

"Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. ²There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. ³Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. ⁴But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, ⁵'Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?' ⁶(He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) ⁷Jesus said, 'Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. ⁸You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.'”

For those who have been blessed with an opportunity to travel outside of the U.S., you may have had the same puzzled response I did to the lack of the use of one of the most basic hygiene products we use. I can still remember standing amongst a group of adult Europeans on a hot summer’s day as a teenager on my first trip abroad and wondering: does everyone over here smell this bad?

It is a curious cultural phenomenon about us Americans that unlike the majority of the rest of the 6+ billion people of the world, we feel compelled to cover up our body odor. In fact, deodorant companies like Old Spice, Secret, Brut and Degree do all they can to keep us using products that keep us from the shame of body odor.

We tend to look down on bad body smells, and avoid them at any cost. Our noses are well-trained to respond pleasurably to car air-fresheners doing all they can to prolong that “new car smell”, and to rely on aroma therapy candles to transport us to a better time and place than here. Our noses are trained to follow Chanel, Calvin Klein, and Beyonce ads that allure us to use perfumes that promise to attract the right guy or girl in our direction.

This avoidance and covering up of unpleasant smells and unfulfilled desires can leave us running away from the sniffing range of the poor person who may not have bathed for several days, or from visiting grandma or grandpa who live in one of those “old folks homes” that has that “nursing home smell.”

Smells can keep us apart from each other. And they can draw us together.

Lazarus knew a smell no one wanted to come close to. He’d been dead, locked away in a tomb for four days, with the smell of his decaying body filling up the space. When Jesus rolled the stone away, Lazarus’ smell pushed the crowd back, gasping for air. But not Jesus. The aroma of his dead friend drew him in all the more closely, so he could raise him to new life.

But coming in contact with that odor, and that deceased body, and performing miracles were not things the authorities in Jerusalem cared for. This wafting smell of an open tomb that drew Jesus close to tend to his friend agitated the principalities enough that they set the plot to kill Jesus in motion. This so-called “crime” of resurrection now made Jesus an outlaw.

There was also someone, though, who could not let go of her amazement at what Jesus had done. Someone who couldn’t let go of this love that gripped her—love for Jesus who came to bring her brother back from being lost and gone forever. Mary comes to Lazarus’ home for dinner, and even though he’s bathed, the scent of the tomb is still on him with myrrh and cloves still in his hair. But Mary knows that this new lease on life her brother had received smelled stronger and better than that. What Jesus did for him is so much more… She wonders to herself: “How can I show Jesus what he means to me?” So she comes to Jesus at the dinner table, and pours a perfume that costs a year’s wages onto his feet, and wipes them with her hair.


To give you a sense of the smell of what Mary used for perfume, I’d like to invite you to pass around this sample of perfumed oil.


As Mary washes Jesus’ feet with this, everyone is silent. The smell is overpowering—and wonderful—and it fills the whole room, and the whole home. Mary shows Jesus and everyone present—that this is what Jesus had done for her. The whole world is now full of a different fragrance because of what this anointed Messiah had done for her brother. Mary shows us what the aroma of God’s love smells like—all because Jesus did not avoid the power of a stench that had kept everyone else away.


Judas, one of the disciples at the meal, wants to know something: why couldn’t this costly perfume have been spent elsewhere, for more than just this one person? Like the poor? As much as Judas’ motives are self-serving, his question raises an important question for our choices about stewardship of using what we’ve been given: why can’t more of what we have be given to those in need? A very valid question! Jesus chooses, though, to redirect the question and turn our attention back to Mary, and to pay attention to her lavish, simple generosity, and loving discipleship. Judas’ question is important, but Jesus wants us to see Mary who is not calculated with her love—she’s utterly lost in her devotion to Jesus. Mary’s passion and reckless abandon for the aroma of Christ can serve as an extraordinary an image of lavish discipleship and stewardship for us all.


How priceless is it to get to smell the sweet aroma of God’s love called Christ? More than MasterCard could ever try to convince us! The apostle Paul in Philippians compares what life before Christ, before Jesus found him, to the smell of “rubbish” (3:8); it’s all nothing compared to what has now found him.


All the aromas we would rather not wish to smell, whether it’s the constant smell of alcohol on a partner’s breath; the stale, medicinal, sterile smell of a friend or relative’s hospital room; or chemical waste polluting our planet, these have all lost their stench and been made sweet by the aroma of Christ, because, as Paul says, “Christ Jesus has made us his own” (3:12). Christ has, with Lazarus, raised all Creation to new life. It is to these and any place where stench keeps tries to keep us away, that the presence Christ’s balm abounds, and this smell reminds us of who it is who brings healing, wholeness, restoration and reconciliation that does not lose its power in the midst of the foulest of foul offenses to our senses.

The scene of anointing at Bethany begins a drama that is about to unfold as Jesus will soon enter Jerusalem to be sent to the cross. In this drama we will recall the smell of Mary’s servant love, again at a footwashing—but this time it won’t happen with hair, but with a towel and basin. We will recall Lazarus’ tomb and Mary’s anointing of Jesus for burial when Joseph of Aramathea and Nicodemus embalm the dead body of Jesus; and we will once again see Mary, a bold woman, and a bold first witness to Jesus’ own resurrection. We will see Mary there, at the empty tomb, once again get lost in devotion and sharing with all that what Jesus had done for her brother that will have been done for the whole world.

In the days ahead, as Lent concludes this week, and as Holy Week begins next Sunday with Palm/Passion Sunday, we anticipate with Isaiah that with the sweet aroma of Christ all around us, “God is about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (43:19) As we ponder the meaning of these last Lenten days, what would such love for Jesus evoke in our lives, in our church and in our world? What foul stenches has Jesus subdued, or does Jesus desire to make powerless for us today? Where is Jesus sending us to bring the fragrant aroma of God’s love that like Mary’s perfume sticks on us as much as it sticks on Jesus, and goes with us wherever we go? Will people catch a wiff of God’s love from us?

As we anticipate and get lost in all the drama Jesus’ passion and his crossing over from death to new life, we await the fulfillment of Jesus to accomplish in us what he begins at Bethany. May we be open the new thing that the aroma of Christ is doing, and imagine a world where we do not walk away from scents that give us discomfort, for the sake of Jesus who comes to bring the power of his healing wholeness to all. May God bring to completion that for which we have been preparing as we began Lent with this prayer from the Ash Wednesday liturgy:

“Accomplish in us, O God, the work of your salvation;

that we may show forth your glory in the world.

By the cross and passion of your Son, our Savior,

bring us with all your saints to the joy of his resurrection.” Amen.

What Pastor Jon Preached on Sunday, March 14th, 2010

4th Sunday of Lent
Joshua 5:9-12 • Psalm 32 • 2 Corinthians 5:16-21 • Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

"Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to[Jesus] . ²And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, 'This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.' ³So he told them this parable: 'There was a man who had two sons. ¹²The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’ So he divided his property between them. ¹³A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. ¹⁴When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. ¹⁵So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. ¹⁶He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. ¹⁷But when he came to himself he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! ¹⁸I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; ¹⁹I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”’ ²⁰So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. ²¹Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ ²²But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. ²³And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; ²⁴for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate. ²⁵“Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. ²⁶He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. ²⁷He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.’ ²⁸Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. ²⁹But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. ³⁰But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’ ³¹Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. ³²But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.''"

Most of us have probably heard this story from Luke before. Can you count how many times you’ve heard it? 20, 30, 40? We’ve heard it here in church plenty, but this is a story we also hear praised and referenced and retold on the screen, in literature and through countless pieces of art. And it’s because it’s a great story! No doubt about it. But is that all it is? As someone has appropriately asked, do we hear this and think to ourselves that we know what it already means? Or, do we hear this story and think we already know what the main point of the story is? How easy it is to come to this familiar parable, and not to be surprised by it any more.

One of the reasons so many of us are no longer surprised by this parable or other parables of Jesus is the titles we give to them. More accurately, we hear these stories and focus on the titles that our Bibles give to Jesus’ stories. I am sure that in every Bible you find, you will probably see the parable you just heard with the title above it saying, “The Prodigal Son”, as if that is what this story really about! The truth is this parable could also just as easily and justifiably be called, “The Parable of the Prodigal Father”, or “The Parable of the Reluctant Brother”, or “The Parable of Wasteful Son”, “The Parable of the Forgiven Son”, “The Parable of the Forgiving Father”, “The Parable of the Disobedient Child”, “The Parable of the Obedient Child”…you get the idea! Depending on whose perspective you take, this parable can mean so many different things. But the title we give this story can easily turn this into a story that we tell about ourselves—and about how we should not do what the younger son did and waste his inheritance; or how we should not complain like the older brother. What if this story is a story that Jesus tells to us, and isn’t about us, but about God? What if we took seriously that Jesus came to make God known to us in his actions and deeds, and also his words and stories? What kind of God would we hear about in Jesus’ parable? What kind of God would we encounter?


What kind of God do you hear about in Jesus’ story? As Jesus tells this story to the Pharisees, his words reveal a God who desires a relationship with us that is not based not on keeping track of anything—of what we’ve done right, or what we’ve done wrong. Jesus’ words reveal a God for whom keeping score is unimportant. When it comes to what counts in our relationship with God, the only things to count are un-countable: grace, mercy, forgiveness, love. Jesus’ words reveal a God who doesn’t keep track of how much we have squandered and not taken care of; a God who doesn’t keep track of what we’ve done or not done. The parable reveals a God who still runs out the door to greet and embrace us before we can even get our pre-planned words of confession out of our mouths. Jesus’ words reveal a God who does not keep track of whether it’s the “right time” to pull out all the stops and celebrate a lost, wayward child coming to seek a place at God’s banquet table. Jesus reveals a God who does not hold our jealousy against us. And Jesus reveals a God who keeps no record of what belongs to us, and to God, because for God all that belongs to God belongs to us.

And…Jesus words do not just reveal what God does not keep record of. Jesus’ parable shows a God for whom gaining a relationship with us means everything, and when it comes to that relationship…there’s no score to settle. With both of the children in the parable, the parent cannot let what they’ve both done right, and what they’ve both done wrong, come between welcoming them both to the banquet table. Even the younger child who squandered everything and has nothing left to give except an apology still gets a welcome that doesn’t wait for him to get to the door, but runs out to meet him, robe him, put a ring on him, put sandals on him, and make the welcome complete with the putting on the table the most expensive item on the Mediterranean marketplace menu: fatted calf. Even the elder child who stuck around and was a slave to his own obedience to his parent, who kept track of everything he had at the cost of working up jealous, righteous anger in his soul—even he still hears the invitation from his parent: to “come to the banquet, for all is now ready…’you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.’” (15:31) Jesus reveals that as much as we distinguish and judge others to be sinners and saints, God does not make such distinctions, but invites us to dine with each other at a table as siblings, free from keeping track, free from judgment, free to love, free to serve. At this table we get to celebrate and rejoice, because we who were lost, we who were dead—we have been found, and we have come to the table where Jesus reveals God has set a place and made room for us.

As we keep our disciplines this Lenten season, temptations challenge us. Temptations challenge this prodigal God who Jesus reveals to us. Our temptations tell us to exploit this prodigious grace, extended to us by God, which is a more radical welcome than we care for or want to believe. Our wish for everyone to know the same welcome we have felt stirs up intolerance in us for everyone who doesn’t make space at the table, as we think we do so well. We can go to the other extreme, too, and exploit God’s welcome like the younger child in the parable, who binges so much on his parent’s wealth, he becomes enamored with what it is he’s been given, chooses not to steward his inheritance, and forgets who it is who gave him his inheritance in the first place.

In the end, despite temptation, despite exploitation, God’s welcome prevails. All that God does and continues to do, is what God does at the end of Jesus’ parable: recognize that at the table of the Lord, God is not keeping track of who has been there before, or who deserves to be there, but continually invites us back, to be fed, and be filled; to be with saints, to be with sinners, to be with elder and younger brothers and sisters; and to be with Jesus. God’s prodigal table looks like this table, and our tables, and any table where one more space is made for a lost brother or sister. We may have squandered what we’ve been given. We may be slaves to everyone else having to do things our way. But it’s God who invites us all to a fatted calf feast, the fatted Jesus-lamb feast—Jesus lamb that is more than worthy to be given to us, today and always. God’s prodigal tables have room for us all; not to indulge in but to share.

We’ve heard a story today we’ve all likely heard many times before. But don’t the best stories always sound like we have heard them once again for the very first time? We’ve heard a story today that reveals who God is to us—a God who does not keep track of rights and wrongs, a God who will do anything to be in relationship with us, a God whose prodigal table welcomes everyone to the celebration feast of Jesus. We have heard a story today whose ending is still waiting to be told through the tables that we set, and which God can turn into prodigal tables, where the best feast is offered for those Jesus loves. Today, God has prodigaled us into this feast story that will continue to surprise us with the graciousness of words that have themselves fed us, with enough left over for more. Amen.