Welcome/Call to Worship
Good morning! I’m Pastor Ashley Dargai. To those here in the chapel and those joining us online: we are so glad you’re here!
We realize that you did not arrive here this morning on accident, that you have made you way to this place at this time purposefully. We honor the intention with which you have made the journey here whether virtually or in person.
This morning, we will sing songs of worship, pray together, hear from scripture and one another, as we move toward the pinnacle of our service: the table of our Lord, where will take the bread and drink the cup in remembrance of our most Gracious Host, Jesus. I invite you to participate as much or as little in our prepared liturgy as your spirit is willing.
The purpose of our time together each Sunday is to bring our hearts closer to the heart of God, so whatever brings your heart closer to God’s own heart, do that.
A couple of announcements before we begin:
If you missed a Sunday and want to catch up on the worship series, you can listen to our church’s podcast.
Tomorrow, we will release a bonus episode called Music Monday. On the first Sunday of the month, you’ll hear me and our Worship Minister Nicole talk about the intersection of music and theology at Azle Christian Church. In this first episode, we talk about anthem selections for our upcoming series. So if you’re curious what Jesus and Johnny Cash have to do with one another or how John Denver unknowingly sings the songs of Israel, make sure you tune in. Find us on Apple podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you wherever you get your podcasts.
After worship today, we will walk through the building for a guided prayer walk. Meet us between the main building and the MUB at the kitchen entrance about 12:15 and we’ll begin our walk together.
We recently started using an online giving system called Vanco. And through the Vanco app, we are able to assemble a church directory on the app so that we can have immediate access to contact information as well as send out reminders for events and alerts for changes of plan, which we’ve grown used to over the past year and a half. You don’t have to use the online giving system in order to use the church directory and communication aspect of it, so if you give through Venmo or bank drafts or personal checks or something, you don’t have to enter your financial information or anything. So next week, there will be a tutorial immediately after service for the Vanco app. We’ll help you get set up, answer any questions you have about using the app, and make sure you’re good to go before you leave the chapel.
In the coming weeks, our building will be completed and we will have a few work days to get everything back in its place and get it prepared for reentry. Stay tuned for more information.
Mark your calendars for the last Sunday of September, September 26, the last Sunday of our worship series when we will have Dedication Sunday for our building in its new iteration.
We begin our new series this morning: Homecoming: Stories of Return. Today, we look at a familiar story about returning home in a new way.
Let’s pray.
Spirit of truth, open to us the scriptures, speaking your holy word through song, through the bread and cup, and through offering ourselves, and meet us here today in the living Christ. Amen.
Let us prepare our hearts for worship.
Pastoral Prayer
The Lord be with you.
Let’s pray:
(From Michael McRoy)
Most Holy One, through Jesus of Nazareth, you told stories to shorten distances. Your parables opened worlds. You knew that no one could be fully defined by a story, and no one could be fully understood without one. Open us to the stories of others, ground us in the stories of ourselves, and shelter us through one another because it may be our only hope. For the sake of the world.
Jesus of narrative, teller of parables, bless our stories to unsettle our prejudices.
Spirit who accompanies, inspire us with breath and boldness to speak our stories.
God of unity, draw us together with curiosity and humility because our story is theirs and theirs is ours.
We pray for a world relentless in the pursuit of justice, compassion, and kindness.
Bless us with childlike imaginations so we can be wild in envisioning the possibilities of peace because nothing holy is tame.
We ask for wisdom to know there is more common ground than we expected.
We ask for the wisdom to remember that no amount of common ground will save us if we believe that difference is dangerous.
May we challenge the poisonous narratives that uphold our violence and craft new stories of collaboration rather than competition.
Divinity within us all, pour over us the patience and perseverance to hold with respect the experiences of those with whom we disagree.
God of love, may we love ourselves enough to own our own stories with confidence and courage.
In a violent and divided world, bless our differences to bear fruit rather than arms, for our humanity is bound together and our lives inseparably intertwined.
In the beginning was a story, and this story was your, this story is now ours, and in the end there’s still a story, and the story is everyone’s. Amen.
And we entrust ourselves to the story of our brother and redeemer Jesus, who taught us to pray…
Our Father, who art in heaven
Hallowed be Thy name
Thy Kingdom come
Thy will be done
On earth as it is in heaven
Give us this day our daily bread
And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors
And lead us not into temptation
But deliver us from evil
For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever.
Amen.
Sermon
Luke 15:11-32
11 Then Jesus said, “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The 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. 13 A 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.
14 When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. 16 He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. 17 But 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! 18 I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”’
20 So 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. 21 Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22 But 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. 23 And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; 24 for 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. 26 He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. 27 He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.’ 28 Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. 29 But 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. 30 But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’
31 Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. 32 But 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.’”
This is the Word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God.
We know this story really well. We know this story to be about a son who leaves and then returns home to a warm welcome. We know it to be an encouragement to all of us who wander, that we can always come home, that forgiveness and grace abound, and that even if we mess up everything, all is not lost.
But what if I told you that we’ve got this story all wrong?
Now, I’m not interested in throwing out centuries of interpretation or arguing with the people who make our modern Bibles and slap headings onto stories such as “The Parable of the Prodigal Son.”
I’m just asking some questions. It’s harmless.
Right before this passage, Jesus has just given two similar parables: the lost sheep and the lost coin, both found and celebrated. And he’s doing this in response to the VRPs, the Very Religious People, who do not like that Jesus is hanging out with tax collectors and sinners. On one hand, they’re upset that Jesus is hanging out with the wrong crowd, but on the other hand, perhaps they’re upset because Jesus then is not hanging out with them. So Jesus, never the predictable person, answers their grumbling with some stories, a parable to be exact.
And parables are a particular kind of story—they’re not moral lessons or fables or extended metaphors, but neither are they myths. They are purposefully ambiguous in order to tease our mind into active thought. Karl Barth, a fixture of Christian thought post World War II says of the Bible, “It doesn’t matter if the snake spoke, but it matters what the snake said.”
And we can think of parables this way. It doesn’t matter if this story is true. By virtue of being a parable, it’s not. But it does matter what happens in the parable, what’s said in the parable, what value system is used in the parable, and often, the value system in a parable is meant to wreck the value systems outside the parable.
And because parables are meant to engage our minds a bit like a puzzle, we go into this story expecting that if the meaning feels immediately clear, then perhaps we’re not understanding the meaning because parables are meant to be explored, rolled around in our hand, burned like incense, marinated like barbecue. They’re like rooms with trap doors. You walk around and around a room trying to find the meaning and then suddenly you fall through a trap door and everything is upside down. It’s like you’re Alice in Wonderland. And it’s only when we fall that through trap door that we begin to understand what this parable is saying.
So the parable begins: There was a man who had sons.
Now two things should set off alarm bells here.
First, we typically think about this story as the parable of the prodigal son, in part because the heading of our Bibles label it this way, but those labels are not part of the original text. But we also think of this story as the parable of the prodigal son because the parable spends so much time on this son. But who does this first line tell us the parable is actually about?
The man who had two sons. The father.
Second, this line, “There was a man who had two sons,” is a signal to readers with a Jewish imagination. It’s a way of setting up a story.
It’s like when we hear “Once upon a time” or “A priest and a rabbi walk into a bar.” We know what kind of story will follow when we hear those lines. We know the level of truthiness to the story, we know what kinds of things are possible in the plot, and we know how it will end.
And the same goes with this line, “There was a man who had two sons,” because this is not the only story in the Jewish imagination about a man who had two sons. Can you think of other stories in the Bible about brothers? There’s a quite a few of them that are essential to both the Jewish and Christian faiths.
In fact, the first man, Adam, had two sons: Cain and Abel. If you recall, their story does not end well. One is favored by God, the other is not for reasons indiscernible to the readers. So Cain, in his anger about not being favored, murders Abel, and the text tells us that Abel’s blood cries out from the ground. And when God asks Cain where his brother is, presumably knowing the answer already because you know, God, Cain utters the tell-tale question: “Am I my brother’s keeper?”
I’d argue the rest of scripture answers that question with a resounding yes.
And then, there’s Abraham. Before Father Abraham had many sons, Father Abraham had two sons: Isaac and Ishmael. One is favored, one is forsaken by his father, though not by God. Ishmael, though the firstborn, is abandoned in the desert by Abraham, left to die. And Isaac, through no fault of his own, profits off of his brother’s abandonment by receiving the firstborn inheritance. Now, Ishmael is rescued by the Lord, and he becomes the father of a nation. But the catalyst for that destiny was being left in the desert to die by his dad.
And just like his father, Isaac had two sons: Jacob and Esau, a case study in sibling rivalry that we’ll revisit at the end of our series. Esau is favored by his father, Jacob is favored by his mother. And Jacob swindles his brother and father and steals Esau’s birthright, a blessing that could not be taken back or redistributed once given. So Jacob flees and does not come back until after his parents have gone, many years later, anxious until the very moment that Esau greets him, wondering if he will be killed for the havoc he wrought as a young man.
So, when the listener hears, “There was a man who had two sons,” they might hold their breath a little, wondering what frightening family dysfunction would play out, what tragedy would mar this family’s mythology, and which character would break their heart.
Jesus continues the story. The youngest for an undisclosed reason goes to his father and asks for his inheritance—the portion of wealth that would be given him to at his father’s death. He wants it all up front. And remarkably, the father gives it to him. So then the son sets off for a distant country, a Gentile country, and when his fast and loose lifestyle compounds with an economic downturn, he finds himself eating with pigs—a violation of his Jewish faith. He’s miserable and hungry, and the text says, “He comes to himself.” And we’re not quite sure what that means.
But after he comes to himself, he returns home, hopeful to work as a slave so that he will have food and shelter. And as he approaches, his father sees him and goes out to him, embraces him, gives him a ring and a robe, and sets party plans in motion—a very fancy and lavish party. The word “prodigal” actually means “wastefully extravagant” rather than “wayward,” so in a way, this is the parable of the prodigal father.
The father welcomes his lost son back into the family saying, “This son of mine was dead and is now alive; he was lost and is now found!”
So the party ensues—a real Gatsby-like celebration—and the elder brother finally enters the scene.
And he is ticked off and is pouting outside. So the father goes out to him. And the son explains that he’s mad because he’s been working hard, “slaving away,” he says, and he’s never had a party thrown for him. He’s never even been given a goat to celebrate with his friends. And the father says, “Son, you are always with me. All that is mine is yours. But you are not just a son—you are a brother. And your brother is back from the dead. He is alive again. He was lost and he has been found.”
Now of course, I imagine the party was not the only thing done in response to the young man’s return. I bet a lot of hard conversations happened afterward. Where were you? What happened? How could you? How do we be a family again? How do we make amends? How do we move forward? Where’s mother? What happened to her? I missed so much. How can I make up for all this time? How do I live now that my share has been spent? Will you be my keeper again, brother? Now that the wine has worn off and we are in the light of day, can we ever heal from this great fracture?
This is indeed a redemption for the younger son and for the family.
But more than that, it is a redemption story of the man who had two sons—this every man, this trope.
The lost father who kept losing his sons has finally been found in this parable.
Did you feel the fall through the trap door?
The man who had two sons in this story departed from the patterns of the other men who had two sons. This man was committed to make a home even after everything. So much had been changed, so much had been lost, so much to be grieved, yet the father kept his covenant of keeping a home that one could come home to whether his son had been gone for years, or his son had simply stepped outside to grumble. He was committed to gathering his family together, not in spite of everything, but because of everything. His commitment to generosity, wasteful extravagance, is the locus of his value system.
Unlike his predecessors, he was not motivated by power or following tradition or inheritance or religious custom or his comfort level with tricky dynamics or hiding away of his own sin—but rather his motivation was the prioritization of those in his care, of the ones who needed to be called son, daughter, beloved child. The ones who needed to be reminded that they are brother, sister, and sibling, too.
And because this father was finally found, because the role in this family was finally redeemed, the sons were found, too, each in their own way.
Howard Thurman, an early 20th century black theologian said, “When the prodigal son came to himself, he came to his father. Thus, to be a Christian, a person would not be required to stretch themselves out of shape to conform to the demand of their religious faith; rather, their faith should make it possible for them to come to themselves whole, in an inclusive and integrated manner.”
For the son to come home, there had to be a home that would receive him.
It’s almost if Jesus is trying to say to the Very Religious People, the VRPs, that you can be found, too. And maybe when you find yourself, others can come home, too. Others can be found.
The father says twice in the story, “This son of mine, this brother of yours, was dead and is now alive; was lost and is now found!” And based on the literary principle of end stress, we might expect the father to end this proclamation with death and life. After all, what is better than being alive? What is worse than being dead?
But in this story, the end stress is on the one who was lost being found.
So that belonging is the value system.
Contrary to the line of thinking that states the Bible has some prescribed ideal nuclear family model, there’s actually not that many examples of good families in scripture. A lot of the fathers are really bad dads and terrible husbands and just generally gross people.
But this story: we get the best dad. The parent we all hope for. The parent we hope to be.
As we think about returning over the next few weeks, I wonder what it would mean for us to be a place to return to.
How can we be a community that is committed to gathering together not in spite of everything but because of everything?
How do we relinquish our value systems of power and control, of tradition and inheritance, of religious custom and comfort level, of even hiding away of our sin? Because these value systems that are given to us in all the ways we participate in the liturgy of the world will be our driving motivators if we are not attentive to them, if we do not regularly recalibrate and reorient ourselves through worship, through sharing our resources, through remembering our baptism and remembering Christ at the table.
How do we instead prioritize the ones we are called to care for? The ones Jesus prioritizes because he does play favorites sometimes.
How can we practice the holy and sacred work of calling those who come here brother, sister, sibling. Son, daughter, beloved child.
Will we find ourselves again?
Amen.
Sharing Our Resources
Offering not only supports the outreach and evangelistic efforts of ACC but they also support the communal and celebratory efforts such as our End-of-Summer party this past Wednesday. Offerings were instituted in ancient Israel for the purpose of taking care of the vulnerable and feeding the priests, but they were also so they could have big celebrations and party together.
There are many ways to support and resource the ministries of Azle Christian Church. One way is through sharing your financial resources. There are many ways to do this: Venmo, giving online, giving box, offering plate.
We are going to pass the offering plates after the benediction. I’ll give the final blessing, and then we will seal the deal by singing the Doxology together before our final song.
I’m going to give these plates to the front pews and they just need to make their way back, facilitated by you all, and a deacon will collect it at the back. If they’re not all the way to the back by the end of the Doxology, just keep passing them as we sing our final song.
Invitation
If you’d like to become a member of this faith community, or if you’d like to become a disciple of Jesus, please talk to me after service or sometime this week.
Benediction
Please rise in body or spirit for our benediction, the Doxology, and the final song.
Receive this benediction:
May the God of hope in whom you place your trust,
Fill you with all joy and peace
So that you may overflow with hope;
Through the power of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.