Luke 15:11-32 - Home

This summer, Elizabeth and I are preaching about stories that give meaning and depth to our lives as Christians.  Not only Biblical stories, but also stories that might not seem overtly religious.  Stories that feel secular, but end up having deep religious meaning.  Many of these stories seem simple, but are actually quite complex.  I love children’s books that have some complexity built in, that remind us that being a child is complicated.  I know I forget that all too often.  But I am reminded of that when I read one of my favorite children’s books.

I’m not sure you can appreciate how excited I am to talk about Where the Wild Things Are in a sermon.  It’s basically the dream-come-true of the 5 year old in me.  Max is a young child who is full of energy.  He enjoys running around and making a ruckus.  Max donned his wolf suit and did what he did best: he made some terrible noise, he chased around the dog, and he got sent to his room with no supper.  Surprisingly similar to my childhood.

Max was mad and he wanted to get away.  He wanted to be somewhere else.  Suddenly his room had turned into a jungle, and a boat carried him away, far, far away, to where the wild things were.  The wild things were scary at first as they roared their terrible roars, and gnashed their terrible teeth, and rolled their terrible eyes, and showed their terrible claws.  But Max tamed them when he looked into their eyes without blinking once.

For a time, Max was certainly happy with the wild things.  They had good times together, joining in the wild rumpus.  But soon Max realized that he was lonely, and he wanted to be with someone who loved him best of all.  So he decided to return home.
He sailed back, back, back to his room, and when he arrived, his supper was waiting for him, and it was still hot.

Even as I grew up, I loved this story.  I liked the fact that the main character’s name was so close to mine.  The story had a main character that had the adventures that I wanted to have, with as active an imagination as I had.  I liked that Max got into all kinds of mischief.  I liked the idea of the fantastic creatures.  I loved the illustrations.  The wonderful sweeping pictures of Max, the wild things, and the wild rumpus.

This is also a story full of deep meaning.  From Max’s desire to escape his world for another experience, to the way Max tames the wild things by looking into their eyes, to my favorite little detail, that when Max returned him his supper was waiting for him and it was still hot.  Such was his welcome to the place where someone loved him best of all.  Such was his welcome home.

The story of the prodigal son may be a familiar one.  It is so complicated and beautiful that it needs little explanation.  The younger son - like Max - leaves his family behind in almost a spiteful way.  By asking his father for the inheritance he is essentially saying to his father, "You are dead to me."  He sets off in search of an adventure.  He may not have met beasts with rolling eyes and gnashing teeth and sharp claws, but the prodigal son also finds himself in a place of despair.  After all of his searching, after his seeking for that which was not to be found he finds himself in a desperate situation.

So often, the search turns out fruitless.  So often we discover ourselves in the midst of a foreign place, a foreign circumstance, a foreign relationship, looking for something we couldn’t find before.  So often, we are unable to find that something.  So often the life that we set out to live doesn’t turn out to be all we'd hoped it would be,  So often, the wild rumpus leaves us unfulfilled.

You may remember a time in your life when you were engaged in such a search,  You may find yourself in such a search now, looking for something more, hoping or longing or struggling for meaning.  Or you may have yet to begin that search.  It is one we all find ourselves involved in, at one point or another.  An attempt to make sense of the world, and attempt to understand our purpose.

Both of our stories today reach a turning point.  The prodigal son finds himself feeding unclean animals wishing he could share their meal.  He comes to himself, realizes his sins, regrets his choices, and resolves to return to his father and seek forgiveness.  To be where he is loved.  Max sits alone after the wild rumpus and realizes that he is lonely.  He realizes that the wild things don’t truly love him,  He comes to himself, and realizes that he wants to be where he is loved.  So Max and the prodigal son turn back,  They turn away from their searches.  Returning to their homes, they find what was missing.  They find welcome.  They find love.  They find grace.

Perhaps this is true for us as well.  Perhaps the conclusion of their journeys sheds some light on the conclusion of our journeys too.  We search and search, we have experiences, we grow, we change.  The journey may not necessarily be a bad thing.  Perhaps the prodigal son needed his foreign excursion to understand his father’s love.  Perhaps Max needed to feel the loneliness of the terrible wild things, to appreciate the love of a simple warm meal,  In the end, perhaps we find ourselves longing for what it was we find at home.

These stories may speak to our churches as well.  Our denomination, our faith tradition,  our individual churches, are feeling the strain of modernity.  The world is becoming more secularized.  People think differently about what “regular membership” means.  We constantly hear about churches closing their doors.  The church itself seems to be out wandering, searching for meaning, searching for identity.  We need to read Max’s story.  We need to read the prodigal son’s story.  We need to be reminded that what we are searching for can be found at home.  What we’re searching for can be found in the grace of God: a grace that runs out to meet the estranged son, a grace that leaves out supper waiting to be found, a grace that reminds us that we love because God first loved us.

John Newton  was an English sailor in the late 1700s.  He had a very difficult life.  Newton was forced into service in the Royal Navy.  When he tried to escape he was captured, punished, and abandoned.  He eventually ended up on a slave ship fueling the slave trade between Britain, Africa, and the Americas.  While sailing off the coast of Ireland, Newton’s ship was caught in a storm.  He woke in the middle of the night to find the ship filling with water.  He cried out to God in fear and panic, and found his ship brought through the storm.  Following this experience, Newton became a Christian, and, eventually, left the slave trade to become an abolitionist.  Newton reflected on his life before and after the storm and wrote many interesting observations about his search for God.

He once wrote: "I am not what I ought to be.  I am not what I want to be.  I am not what I hope to be in another world.  But still, I am not what I once used to be, and by the grace of God, I am what I am."

I think this is what might have gone through the prodigal son’s head when his father ran out to meet him,  I think this is what might have gone through Max’s head when he found his supper waiting for him, still warm.  "I am not what I want to be...but still. I am not what I used to be, and by the grace of God, I am what I am."

Newton’s most famous words also echo this sentiment.  "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.  I once was lost but now I’m found, was blind but now I see."  I once was lost but now I’m found.

It’s God’s grace that Newton found in that storm.  It’s God grace that the prodigal son encountered in the father who RAN out to embrace his estranged son.  It’s God’s grace that Max found in the supper in his room.  God’s grace is the warm embrace of home.  It is the comfort in which we rest.  It is the place where we are safe, where we are known, where we are loved.

This is what the prodigal son found at the end of his search, this is what Max found at the end of his search, this is what we find at the end of our search:  HOME.  Amen.