Turning Around - The Journey of Repentance

Beloved of God, grace to you and peace from God our Creator and the Savior of the world Jesus the Christ. Amen.

On one sunny, warm, early September afternoon in the fall of 2007, I came home from school, threw my book bag down on the floor, and went into the living room after a brisk and short “hello” to my mother who was sitting in the kitchen. The first few weeks of the school year were under our belts for my brothers and I, and I was already feeling the pressure – handling two college courses plus Algebra II, in addition to my other final year classes. For those of you who might not know, I absolutely hate math. My future children will be lucky if I can help them with their homework beyond basic equations – for me, it is like staring at ancient writings in dead languages and trying to decipher what it means. Math, when it becomes too advanced, just doesn’t compute. My mom knew I had been struggling in math class, and we had talked about me potentially dropping out of the class. She wanted me to keep going, but I was miserable. After my short and gruff greeting, she knew something was up. Little did she know, I had just failed an exam that day, so I was doubly frustrated and anxious. We ended up getting into an argument, and I remember raising my voice at her in frustration in attempting to share my side of things – I was struggling in my academic performance, and furthermore this class wouldn’t be useful to my future plans. What I couldn’t see, in my anger, was that my mother just wanted me to succeed and to continue to try. She held back her tears as she said, “You know, I hate it when we fight. You’ve always been so easy to raise.” Those words stopped me in my tracks. I knew I had done something wrong – I was too quick to argue my own side, too quick to cast aside my mother’s well-meaning advice and support. I knew I needed to apologize.

Later that night, as my mother was folding laundry upstairs, I went to express my regret at how I had treated her – how I hadn’t fully listened, and how in my frustration at so many things that were happening that fall between school and college applications and shifts in my parent’s jobs, I snapped at her. Ever since then, I have been mindful of my words, the language I use, and how I carry myself, because I realize that they matter deeply to how human interaction is perceived. It was a moment in my life where I realized the gravity of repentance, the beginning of righting a wrong.

In today’s Gospel text from the Gospel of Luke, we meet Jesus as he is gathering with tax collectors and sinners – people who, in the eyes of the religious and political elite of the day, were the lowest of the low. They disregarded purity laws and took more than their cut. And yet, this man from Nazareth is found eating with them, and the Pharisees remark on that. It is in this context, in the middle of a meal, that Jesus tells the Pharisees a story, a parable, of repentance, in order to illustrate just what might be possible for these people they have labeled as outcasts, as sinners, as rejects, or as harmful.

Jesus tells them the story of a shepherd who searches after one lost sheep, leaving the other ninety-nine in the wilderness, and about the woman who searches for a lost coin, sweeping her house by lamp until she finds it. These stories speak not only to the beautiful wideness of God’s love for humanity, but also brings us to an essential awareness: that in finding what is lost, we remember that every person, every being in this creation has a central role to play in God’s story. Jesus connects these stories he shares to the necessity of repentance – “Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.” The work of repentance, where wrongs are righted and vulnerability is paramount, is central to the new heaven and new earth that God intends for humanity to experience here and now and in life beyond death.

We often thing of repentance as a turning back – of saying sorry, that we won’t continue in erroneous or hurtful ways, and we will strive to live a better, more moral life. In my experience, that works for a time, until inevitably I mess up again. I believe Martin Luther, the founder of our Lutheran tradition, was correct in saying that we are simultaneously, at once, both sinner and saint – we fail, we strive, we mess up, we recommit, we vow to do better. And that is the beauty of God’s grace – that no matter how many times we get it wrong, we always get a chance to try again. In light of that, I would invite us to consider thinking about repentance in this way. What if, instead of turning back, repentance was rather a turning around? What if, when we turn around, we run smack into the face of God, who has been there with us the whole time, just waiting for us to realize God’s presence? Repentance, in this way, helps us to situate ourselves – we are not God, nor are we rulers of our own destiny, destination, nation, community, or household. Repentance helps us to remember time and time again that we as human beings are fragile and that, whether we like it or not, our lives truly are dependent upon one another. We cannot live out our faithfulness in isolation – it takes a whole community, with its brokenness and its jagged edges alongside its joy and celebration. When we lean into the realities of our human experience, there faith can flourish.

My friends, today we are celebrating Rally Sunday – where we rally together as a Church and we welcome all that God will do in the midst of this program year. This day is larger than Sunday School starting or confirmation beginning – it is also an opportunity for us to commit ourselves to continued service in God’s world, full of possibilities for us in ministry. I invite us as we go about our days to keep our eyes and ears open – what are needs that you see around you? What are ways that our Church might respond faithfully to our communities? My friend and sibling in Christ Pastor Emmanuel Kigolumbe from the Central Diocese of Tanzania wanted to pass along a word – that we live in the fullness of God’s blessings, and that blessing by God calls us to love and serve our neighbors, wherever we are. Our ministry together is reflective of this commitment – that we seek out those who are lost, sweeping the floors for what has been misplaced, and restoring the order of relationships. Befriend the lonely, give consolation to the brokenhearted, take notice of your surroundings, and give thanks for each moment – because, when we do those things, we are reflecting the love of God – a love that won’t end until all is accounted for, and all are welcome into the fullness of salvation. When we do the work of abiding relationship, and when we enact the possibilities of repentance, we are doing our part to live in God’s love, which is not our own, but freely given to every beloved creation.

I am looking forward to all that will be in this year, my friends, together with your hearts, minds, and voices as we commit again to serving God in the place that we are. Together, hand in hand, this will be a fruitful year. May we begin with God’s blessing, God’s encouragement, and God’s calling to turn around and see anew all that is possible. Thanks be to God for your ministry, my friends, and most of all, we say thanks be to God. Amen.