This Sermon was preached by Rev’d. Richard Alton, rector of Saint Mark’s Church, Philadelphia on March 22, 1998. During that week the vestry of Saint Mark’s Church had voted to approve the restoration of the bells for change ringing. The Spring Dinner of the North American Guild of Change Ringers was occurring this same weekend and a contingent of handbells ringers were present at Saint Mark’s for the eleven o’clock Mass to ring changes on handbells.

Father Alton on Easter Sunday, 1998

 

Laetare, Jerusalem

 

preached on Lent IV (Laetare Sunday), 1998.

 

In the Name of the True and Living God–Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

Today is Laetare Sunday, from the first word of the Introit antiphon in the Mass for this day taken from the last chapter of Isaiah: "Laetare, Jerusalem: Rejoice with Jerusalem, and be glad for her, all you who love her; rejoice with her in joy, all you who mourn over her-that you may nurse and be satisfied from her consoling breast; that you may drink deeply with delight from her glorious bosom."

 

Rejoicing has particular significance for us today when we welcome talented guests who delight in ringing church bells. Their presence here with us this morning is an encouragement for all the people of Saint Mark’s as we begin our program for the restoration of the bells in our bell tower-fixing them in a new and secure frame designed for ringing them in changes as they were intended in order to summon persons to the worship which has been at the core of this parish community for a hundred and fifty years.

 

While the ancient rites and ceremonies of this place may be unfamiliar and perhaps peculiar to some, they are in no sense private and in every sense of the word, public. The worship of this church is open and available to all who desire it as we plead Christ’s sacrifice in the mass each day, praying that his passion, death and resurrection will be beneficial for the whole world. This liturgical universality is not some grand scheme of our own devising but rather it is our bounden duty and service, our obedient response to Jesus, who for our sake became obedient even unto death. Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is the Lord, to the glory of God the Father, as we read in the second chapter of Saint Paul’s Letter to the Philippians. Every knee should bend and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. There is no way for us to grasp this truth in faith without feeling compelled to share it with others, for which task, the ringing of bells, has long-proved useful as well as beautiful. Even bashful Christians are inspired to extroversion by the jubilant hypnosis of change ringing. And even the most preoccupied persons can know something of that eerie familiarity with a departed fellow human being when the muffled tolling of bells urges us to pray for a stranger’s soul and reflect upon the limits of our own earthly sojourn as John Donne did in his best-known poem? "No man is an Island, entire of it self...any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls/ it tolls for thee."

 

Bell are just like the Gospel in that they are destined for all the world to hear. By design both the bell s and the Gospel are searching for the widest possible audience. We heard a story about searching in the Gospel set for today’s Mass where we read that the Lost son "arose and came to his father. But while he was yet at a distance, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him." Imagine what it must have been like for the father to search the horizon day after day for his ungrateful and bullying younger son to return home that had suffered so much when he left it behind. By any standards, this is an astonishing event. Here we have a young son who came to his father to demand his share of an inheritance which he was not entitled to get until his father’s death. Imagine what it must have been like. "Look Dad, I can’t wait around for you to die off so that I can get my hands on your money. I want it now." That’s how it was for the Lost Son at the beginning of the story. I doubt if the most lenient parent would do what the father did and agree to this impertinent and outrageous request by dividing his assets because his child felt like having them to squander on himself and a pack of self-indulgent friends. The keys to the car are trauma enough for many families! The father’s love for this alienated child is "over the top" as the saying goes. Saint Luke is a fine writer and this story is unique to his Gospel. We should not miss the dramatic timing of the younger son’s return. Having "come to his senses," he has rehearsed the words of his apology to his father: "Father, I have sinned against heaven and earth. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of the hired servants." Can’t you just imagine this fellow going over these words in his mind as he makes his way home. But he doesn’t even get all the way home before his father spots him and runs out to him and kisses him. Nor does he manage to get the words of his confession out of his month. His father interrupts him by demanding a fine garment for him to wear, and a ring and a great banquet for the son who was lost an now is found, dead an is now alive. Such over the top graciousness stirs deep emotions in us, doesn’t it? Such a speedy end to terrible alienation! Such an ample and immediate remedy for a tragic and potentially perpetual mistake. All at once things are made well again because the father has so much love for his child.

 

It has been said that for the preacher, this particular Gospel affords so many themes for a sermon that it is like a mosquito in a nudist colony!

 

So what’s next? We have seen the self-imposed alienation of the impetuous younger son made right by his father’s stubborn love. He has returned to his senses and to his home. Christianity has always had this story to tell - that God’s love is available in abundance for those who feel very far removed from it. Jesus’ ministry was focused on the outcasts of his day - tax-collectors, sinners, Samaritans and Gentiles. People complained about this. They grumbled. "Why does he eat with tax-collectors and sinners?" Why does he tolerate having his feet washed by Mary’s tears and anointed with costly ointment? This brings us to the older son in today’s Gospel. For we discover through the dialogue that this son, too. Has been alienated from his father, perhaps for an even longer time than his younger brother. He has "slaved" for his father for years and He has never transgressed his commands. But he has also never felt rewarded and he deeply resents his father’s joy and his prodigal brothers return. See how his terrible rage is expressed in every word and gesture. He refuses to enter the house. He exaggerates the younger brother’s sin, imagining him as consorting with prostitutes! We begin to see another sort of alienation and tragedy in all of this. Here is the resentment of the self-righteous. We spot it right away by its tell-tale joylessness.

And there are times when we spot this in ourselves, times when we fail to live each day with gratitude, times when we simply allow ourselves to live life by gong through the motions, withholding our hearts and withdrawing our love from those who love us. Thus we need to worship. We need to rejoice. We need to get over our brooding selves. We need to come home. We need God. We need to know just how much we need God. That when the Gospel sets off the bells of our hearts. That’s when the changes happen as we become more and more aware of the new lives we’re living, Christ’s life really, Christ’s life lived in our lives. "If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!" Amen.