I begin this sermon as sermons typically begin, by stating the following: I do notcare for the movie The Princess Bride. Mine is not a popular opinion. My father-in-law routinely brings up my disdain for the film, and though he does so in ajoking, loving manner, I suspect he cannot reconcile his love for the movie with thedisgust I’ve expressed. He has—more than once—hinted that this opinion of minemakes him question my sense of humor, and perhaps even my character.

I saw The Princess Bride too young. I simply could not make sense of thecontrasting energies swirling throughout the film and among those of us watching.Was this a love story? A thriller? An adventure? A mystery? A tragedy? None?All?I watched The Princess Bride through my youthful, literal lens and washorrified…the Rodents of Unusual Size were truly terrifying…would I know howto survive forest quicksand, or an energy-sucking machine…is true love actuallyrealized while rolling down a hillside together, in near-calamity?

It was not until my late thirties (yes) that I realized (or, rather, Josh told me) thatThe Princess Bride is a satirical film, akin to Robin Hood, Men in Tights or Best inShow. Though William Goldman, author of The Princess Bride book did notnecessarily intend to create a satire, his work and its subsequent film have beenreceived as such.

Understandably, this realization changed my entire life.

A film that lived in my memory as horrifying and strange became, with a smallshift in perspective, a ridiculously silly social commentary on unchecked politicalpower and mythologized love stories. It no longer seems absurd that the filmattracts the following that it does, because it satirizes works of fiction and aspectsof reality with humor: while on the surface it may be a non-sensical fairy tale, thereis more lying just below, more that bubbles upward following the laughter. If ThePrincess Bride were…

Text: Luke 19:1-10Speaker: Joel Miller

Unlike the previous Sundays of Lent, today’s reading is not a parable.  It’s a story that follows the flow of Luke’s gospel.  Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem, and now he’s almost there.  He’s passing through the last town, Jericho, before that final, winding, uphill road to the holy city.  Jesus had mentioned this path in a parable, way back at the beginning of his journey.  A hated Samaritan, who had no business being on that road in the first place, saved the life of a Jewish pilgrim coming back from Jerusalem to Jericho.  Jesus lifts up this Samaritan as an example of neighborliness.  “Go, and do likewise” Jesus had said.

That was a parable, but this is really happening.  Jesus really is passing through Jericho, about to go on that pilgrim road to Jerusalem.  And on his way through Jericho, he has an encounter that only Luke tells us about – with a wealthy executive tax collector named Zacchaeus. 

This is not a parable, but it reads kind of like one:

Once there was man – rich, yet despised – who so badly wanted to see the wise teacher coming through his village that he climbed a tree, like a child, to get a good view.  The wise teacher saw the man and, much to everyone’s surprise, asked to come to his house.  Overjoyed, the man hurried down and welcomed the teacher.  The crowds grumbled against the man and the teacher.    And then, another surprise: The wealthy man declared we would give half his possessions to the poor, and pay back four times over anyone he had cheated.    

If the parable of the Good Samaritan was about neighborliness, the story of Jesus in the home of Zacchaeus is about salvation.  At least that’s what Jesus says it’s…

I have never really been a fan of the whole concept of heaven and hell. I don’t believe a loving God dooms anyone to an eternity of suffering. But I also bristle at the idea that those who perpetuate massive injustice don’t have to answer for it in the end.

This is why “The Good Place” is one of my favorite TV shows. Without giving too much away, through the four seasons of the show, we were treated to an unfolding of an extended theology of heaven and hell. The show begins with the main characters believing they are in heaven, the good place, despite leading less-than-stellar lives on earth. There they are promptly thrust into an array of difficult social situations that make it feel less like heaven and more like hell.

Throughout the show, the characters deal with their own faults and sins committed on earth and eventually plead their case to God herself to save them. When they do eventually plead their case to God, played by Maya Rudolph, they urge her to go down to earth and see that it is almost impossible to be a good person because we are caught up in complex overlapping systems of oppression. She comes back to declare that the world indeed has become too complicated, and recounts her experience there embodied as a black woman.

However her solution is not to show grace to humans, but to implode everything and start over. The main characters offer an alternative. They instead create a sort of purgatory where everyone comes after they die, and have to work out all of their flaws, aided by demons. Eventually, in a process that can take hundreds of years if they’re really bad, they get to come to the good place, a neighborhood of peace and joy where…

Text: Luke 15:1-32Speaker: Mark Rupp

In ten years of pastoring here at Columbus Mennonite, this must be the first time I have gotten to preach on these parables, because I am sure that if I had done so already, I would have forced you all to learn and sing the song I’ve included as an insert in your bulletin. This is a song we sang at the church camp I grew up going to that holds a lot of fond memories for me…so don’t mess it up, ok. A show of hands if anyone is familiar with it.

It’s a fairly simple tune, though the rhythm in the last line gets a little funky. The only tricky part is that its true beauty comes from being done as a round. You’ll note each line of music is a new part of the round, so we will divide into three groups [note where the divisions will be]. 

For this first time through, we will only sing the first verse you have on the insert, even as we repeat it as a round. This is how we did it at my camp. I will sing it through once while you listen. Then everyone will sing it through in unison one time. Then we will start the round with group 1 and have each group sing it through twice. When Groups 1 and 2 finish their second time through, you all can repeat the last line with the other groups, so that we all end in unison on the last line. And remember, just the first verse for this time through.

[Lead the song.]

Thank you for that. As I mentioned, this is a song that was certainly a camp favorite. As soon as any of the leaders would launch into it, something magical would always happen…

Text: Luke 13:1-9, 31-35Speaker: Joel Miller

Luke 13:6-9  – Then Jesus told this parable: “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. 7 So he said to the gardener, ‘See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?’ 8 He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. 9 If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.'”

Question: In the parable of the not-yet-productive fig tree, which of the two characters, the owner, or the gardener, best represents your image of God?  Which character, including the tree, do you most identify with?

Now it is a little dangerous to be assigning parts to every character in a parable.  Parables aren’t straight allegories, with each fictional person and item having direct correspondence to something in the real world.  It’s not an equation.  The point isn’t to figure out who is who in a parable, and therefore solve the parable.

As we’re recognizing throughout Lent, the word parable comes from the Greek, the language of the New Testament, and it means to “throw alongside.”  Parables thrive on the unexpected.  We see the world in a certain way, and then a parable gets thrown alongside us, and we’re challenged to reconsider.  Jesus was rather fond of doing this.

Like he does in Luke chapter 13 with the fig tree.

What’s important to know about this chapter, and about Luke more generally, is that the air around it is thick with apocalyptic expectations.  A good portion of the Bible is written either with this sense of…