Liminality

Once upon a time there was a park-keeper whose job was to pick up liter on the spiked pole. Surrounded by the glorious beauty of flowers and trees, with the sun sparkling through the leaves, he only had eyes for the garbage he had to collect and the damage it did. The park-keeper could only see the bad, and was blind to the beauty. I can’t think of anything worse in life than being blind to the beauty that’s right in front of us. And no story depicts this more clearly than story of the older brother in the Prodigal Son. The oldest son is still in the fields when his brother returns. He comes in at the end of the day and stumbles into the feasting and dancing! Frustrated that he can’t remember the cause of such celebration or that they would even wait on him, he grabs a servant and says, “What’s all this?” The servant replies, “Your brother – he’s come home!” Filled with rage the oldest son refuses to come inside. Yet the father sees this tantrum through the Palest

A king wanting to celebrate his son’s wedding invites the big-wigs and big-names and puts the wedding announcement in the paper. TV shows run commercials about the cost of the dress and the size of the cake. I mean this wedding is going to be big. And why not . . . this prince is worth it! So the invitations go out . . . and they are nice invitations . . . but nobody RSVPs. Nobody cares. Nobody goes. So the king sends his servants to find out why but half of them are killed. Killed? Who would murder servants hunting down RSVPs? But I know you already know what’s going on - I mean come on Barrett, this is Matthew 21-22. Pay attention to the setting of the story. Jesus is in the temple having a private conversation with the Temple rulers. No one else is there. He’s two chapters away from being murdered, and he’s making enemies left and right. This parable must be about the religious leaders. So it makes sense. The kingdom of heaven is like a banquet that God’

I preached from Ephesians yesterday. I learned Ephesus is a city of great size, rich with money, opportunity, and resources. Its church also has resources and opportunities for growth. But it’s small. Its direction is shaky and the people are full of anxiety. I think all churches get this way. Over the past few weeks I’ve been reading the history of my own church. What once started as a growing community full of resources, energy, and optimism has now turned into a congregation that may or may not feel up to the challenges of our day. We think we lack resources, we think we lack young energy, and we talk with a pessimistic discourse. And perhaps for good reason. Our last few years have been rocky. We’ve had ministers split the church and incredible ministry initiatives put to rest. We stare now at mounds of debt and mounds of anxiety. We aren’t as confident in our identity as we used to be and we don’t feel as up to the challenges that lie ahead. We