Creekside Church Sermon of March 21, 2004 "Until" Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32	Rev. David Bibbee
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His name was Leslie Burger. He taught 8th grade math at Taft Junior High School in Marion, Ohio. Mr. Burger was a small-of-stature man who walked like Groucho Marx and had a set of ears that stuck out like Ross Perot's. He wore a crew cut and thick-lensed glasses. He kept his left hand in his rear pocket and in his right hand he held a long, rubber-tipped pointer.

'Mean' was to Leslie Burger what 'stink' is to skunks. He never smiled. He had good students, but not favorite ones. Having favorites meant liking them, and, "Mr. Booger," as we called him, didn't like any student. The best you could hope for was that he disliked you less than others.

Classroom discipline wasn't a problem. He had a "zero tolerance" policy. As we worked on problems he walked the aisles, peering over our shoulders at our work. For a man no bigger than he was, he had a booming voice that made you jump off your seat when he hollered. If a student was fooling around, he shot from his desk like a lightening bolt-- "ZAP!" and cracked your desktop with his pointer. One day he cracked Freddy McClain's head with it. This was in 1967, before student rights had been invented, and we had never heard about the ACLU.

I was never a math whiz. I was a math phobic, but I got all A's and B's in Mr. Burger's class-better grades than I earned before or would earn again. But looking back, I'm not sure I learned much. Rather than having achieved something, I felt as though I had escaped something. I was good student, but not for the love of learning. The fear of failing was my motivation. I learned some things, but I could have learned more, had my teacher not been a terrorist with a crew cut.

There are people for whom God looks like Leslie Burger and not Jesus Christ. The "Leslie Burger God" watches every move and scans every thought. With pointer in hand, He gives us the business when we mess up. Living the Christian life is not motivated by the joy of being a beloved child of God and new creations in Jesus. Christianity is an insurance policy you don't want to be dead without. Following Jesus is motivated by the fear of damnation, and not the desire for a relationship planted in our human hearts.

In his book, Living Faith, Jimmy Carter talks about the Lord he has come to know. He says, "To me personally, Jesus bridges the tremendous chasm between human beings and the seemingly remote and omnipotent God the creator…It comforts me to equate the almighty Creator with the humble but perfect Jesus, and remember that God is love." He continues, "I am not a Christian because I think that belief in Christ will let me see my father again, or my brother after I die. What is important is what Christ means to me as a personal savior, an avenue to God, an example, a guide, and a source of reassurance, strength, and wisdom."

The basis of mature, secure faith is the bedrock conviction that God is love. Like the drone string of a musical instrument, the certainty that resonates through the Bible and all of life is God's tremendous love for us and the belief that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.

Of all the messages one can take from Mel Gibson's, "The Passion of the Christ," message number one is that Christ absorbed the suffering inflicted by the full force of human brutality because he loves us. 1 John 4 sings, "…love is of God, and all who love are born of God and know God. Those who do not love do not know God; for God is love…In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his son to be the expiation for our sins."

Love is the beginning and end of Christian hope. But our understanding is so partial. We draw distinctions and pass judgments. We take God's love and we slice it and dice it, confine it and constrict it. We decide who is worthy of it, and who isn't; who is saved and who isn't. I know how easy it is to do, which is why I often recall the hymn verse that says, "For the love of God is broader, than the measure of our minds."

Today we will engage in a mind-stretching exercise by questioning the false limits we impose upon God's love. First, let's consider the title of this sermon… "Until." We sometimes think of the word as an order-- "You will not leave the table until you eat your brussle sprout-rutabaga medley." "You can't go out with your friends until your chores are done." Until can mean delay. "You won't receive a diploma until you finish your art history course." "You should not get married until you are ready."

But I am using "until" in terms of, as long as necessary-until as in always, as when a man and woman declare in their wedding vows, ''…for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

Until is the most hopeful word in the Bible. The Pharisee's complaint against Jesus was the company he kept.

Jesus told three parables to explain why. A shepherd lost a sheep. A woman lost a coin. A father lost a son. The shepherd scoured the wilderness crags and crevices until he found his sheep. The woman moved all the furniture and swept every inch of her house until she found her coin. The father gave in to his son who insisted that he receive his share of the inheritance. He blew it all on every pleasure Sin City provided. He was reduced to eating pig slop to survive. But from day one the father waited, and waited, and waited until his son came to his senses and returned home.

Based upon these parables and many other biblical passages, from the earliest days of the church there has been a belief in the ultimate restoration of all people. The belief is called universal restoration or universalism. Simply put, it says that God's love is ultimate, and though in our God-given freedom we can reject God and choose existence without him, there will nevertheless come a time when all people will be drawn to God and be saved. Those of you who are students of Brethren history know that universal restoration resonated with the early Brethren, particularly with our founder, Alexander Mack.

In 2 Corinthians 5:19 Paul said that, "in Jesus Christ God was reconciling the world unto himself." No distinction was drawn between the pagan world and the Christian world. He didn't separate those who would be reconciled to God and those who wouldn't. The promise wasn't restricted to the good, holy, and saintly of the world. How can there be joy in heaven knowing that countless souls languish in hell? What does it say about God's will if we can defeat it with our will? In the third century the Christian theologian Origen said that ultimately, all creatures, including the devil himself would be saved by God.

Those who support universal restoration point to the universal implications of many biblical texts.

I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion
On whom I will have compassion.
Your Father in heaven does not will that any of these little ones be lost.
The Son of Man came to seek and save what was lost.
The true light that enlightens every man was coming into the world.
When I am lifted up I will draw all people to myself.
On no day will heaven's gates be shut, for there will be no night there.

Of course, those who reject the notion gather scriptures which support the certainty of judgment, damnation, and hell. The fiercest response, through, to the salvation of everyone is not on a biblical basis, but instead appeals to justice and fairness. If everyone will eventually be saved, why should I be a Christian? Why should I live a Christian life when someone with no morals gets the same reward that I do?

Richard Neuhaus calls this a "troubling objection." Those who think like this believes that, "the damnation of others, maybe most others, is essentially related to their reason for being a Christian. The joy of our salvation is contingent upon the misery of their damnation." If God's predisposition toward me is judgment and not love which desires what is best for me, I will be wary. Spending eternity with such a God does not appeal to me. Our motivation isn't avoidance, but acceptance of God's love, which reveals to us what life is meant to be.

The elder brother aasked, "What's going on here, Dad? Your swinging son took money that wasn't entitled to him, and told you to, 'Drop dead!' He blew it all on booze and blondes, and the little creep crawls home and you act like nothing has happened. And you're throwing him a party!? Why be good if it doesn't matter in the end? If I get all liquored-up and do anything I want, will you throw a party for me, too?"

If there is one thing we hold against God, it is generosity-especially when it's given to people who could care less about God. We become impatient when God waits until the lost sheep and the lost son comes home. The vineyard workers threw a fit when the laborers who worked one hour got the same wage as those who toiled all day. The master replied, "I'm free to do what I want with what I have, or do you begrudge by generosity?"

Indeed we do! We pass judgment on the souls of other, another prerogative that is God's and not ours. When we go on about the necessity of certain people and groups being condemned to hell, it is saying more about us and our desires for them than it says about God's. It's understandable. Of course Hitler deserves hell. So does Saddam Hussein. So do the terrorists who have maimed and murdered thousands of people. So do lesser-known sinners who have done unspeakable things that have brought immense suffering to others. So does Leslie Burger. The desire for justice and revenge in us is strong. But God's ways are not ours.

The Iditarod sled dog race takes place this month in Alaska. Teams of dogs and riders will brave frigid, harsh conditions in hopes of winning the 1,100-mile race from Nome to Juneau. I learned that many of the Iditarod dogs are trained in Iowa. Major effort goes into selecting and training the lead dogs. Trainers look for two qualities: courage and perseverance. There is one thing the lead dog cannot do, regardless what happens on the frozen tundra-it cannot quit. It must keep going.

What happens during blizzards, whiteouts, or ice storms which wipe out the trail? Even when lost, the lead dog keeps going, working in a giant figure-eight pattern. These determined animals keep running and leading until the trail is rediscovered and the team is back on track. Lead dogs are so dedicated that they will run figure eights until they die, rather than give up.

Steadfast love and perseverance are characteristics of God. Jesus told us that God is a shepherd, a woman scouring her house for a coin, a loving Father waiting for his son to return. God doesn't stop loving and seeking until the lost are found. As William Barclay put it, "The only possible final triumph is a universe loved by and in love with God."

Belief in the ultimate restoration of all souls does not deny the reality of God's judgment, the existence of hell, nor that souls do go there. As Richard Neuhaus says, "Such a belief is not a doctrine, it is a hope. In sum: we do not know; only God knows; but we may hope." Alongside scriptures, which speak of judgment and condemnation, are others which tell the other side of the story.

"In Jesus Christ there is no condemnation." "For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross." "Then, as one man's trespass led to condemnation for all people, so one man's act of righteousness leads to acquittal and life for all people."

God takes no pleasure in the decisions people make to turn away from Him. God does not take pleasure in the hell that such rejection creates. I believe that God will receive all who have a change of heart. I believe God will wait until such a decision is made, no matter how long it takes a soul to "come to."

I heard a woman who works with dying people and their families. She spoke of a forty year old man dying of stomach cancer. He was a hardened person. He belonged to a motorcycle gang and had a police record. He was verbally abusive to those who reached out to him, including his wife who desperately wanted him to make peace with his illness and God. He was particularly hard on to those who offered spiritual care. As his condition worsened, he remained bitter and belligerent. They worked so hard to get through to him, apparently to no avail, until moments before he died, he smiled and exclaimed, "So this is what it's all about!"

Will everyone ultimately be saved? I myself choose to believe in what God can do -- not what God can't. There is much we do not know; only God knows; but we may hope. We can take comfort in the parable Jesus gave us, knowing that God is not the elder brother who couldn't feel good unless his brother was in torment. God is no brother. He is the Father who will go to great lengths to have all his children back home.

A man died and appeared at the Gate of Heaven before the administrator, St. Peter. Peter examined the man's credentials, found them all in order, and motioned the man on through. He felt wonderful, but his mood changed as he looked all around heaven and couldn't find those he expected to see. "Where's Jesus? Where's Mary? Where are all the saints and angels?" "Oh, them," Peter replied. "They're not here. They're all down in hell ministering to the damned." Then after a pause he asked, "Would you like to know the way?"

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