A Dog Named Taro
My grandfather had a dog named Taro.
He was a great dog. A mutt to be sure. My grandfather got him from the pound and it was pretty tough to tell exactly what kind of dog he was. Maybe part retriever, part beagle? I mean, who knows? He was mostly black with some white and tan spots. He was medium height and had short hair. And he was smart. Super smart. That was the best way I could describe him. My grandfather gave him a peanut jar once back when they were made of glass. He would put just three peanuts at the bottom of the jar and gave it to him. First, Taro tried to stick his nose inside the jar to get the peanuts out, but that didn’t work. He knocked it down, pushed it around with his nose, pawed at it, but nothing got those peanuts out. Finally, he stared at the jar for a while and then lay down next to it. He put his snout into the opening and placed his paws on either side of the jar and then rolled onto his back so the peanuts would fall into his mouth. Like I said, smart. When he wanted to go outside, he would get up, go to the door, bark once and wait. When he wanted to come back in, he would do the same thing. Such a good boy.
When my grandfather died, we took Taro in.
He quickly became part of the family and he seemed really happy. We already had a dog, a super cute Shetland Sheepdog named Ms. and the two of them got along great. One morning though, after we let Taro out to do his business, he didn’t come back to the door. Sure, sometimes he took longer than other times, but this was long even for him. I went out to the back to see what he was doing. I called his name out loud and he didn’t respond. Puzzled, I looked around and saw that the back gate was wide open! I ran out to the street, calling his name over and over, but he was nowhere to be found. I was heartbroken. We all were. Turns out the water meter guy didn’t close the gate behind him and Taro escaped. I kept a look out for him every day for a long time, hoping he would find his way home. A part of me thinks he did. I think he went looking for my grandfather and was trying to get back to where he used to live. I’m pretty sure my dad even went back there to see if he had done that, but we never found him. In my mind, I imagined he had found another home where he could be happier. At least I hope so. This was over 40 years ago so I’m sure Taro has since long ago passed away, but I guess there’s a part of me that still wonders what happened to him.
I imagine this is a smidgen of how God feels when one of us runs away.
The analogy isn’t perfect, but God loves us so much I imagine if we ran away, God would continue to look out the window and wander outside from time to time to see if we’re coming home. Much like the story of the Prodigal Son we will share from today. This is a classic story, and even if you never stepped foot in a church, you likely heard of it. But if you hadn’t heard it, it’s a story of a man with two sons. One of them wanted to leave home, so he asked his father to give him his inheritance in advance and the father did. The father wasn’t sick or about to die or anything. The son just wanted the money to leave home and make it on his own. He sold everything his father gave him, left his home, and squandered his money and soon had nothing. He had fallen so low he was reduced to working as a pig feeder and he was so hungry he envied what the pigs were eating. And this is where we pick up in our reading this morning.
17 “When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18 I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ 20 So he got up and went to his father.
“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.
21 “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’
22 “But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate. – Luke 15:17-24
It is never too late to come back to God.
This might seem obvious to you, but it isn’t to everyone and we need to be reminded that no matter how far we’ve fallen, God is always waiting for us to make the choice to come back. I had a friend who felt like God could never forgive her for falling away. She felt like she had done too much wrong for God to forgive, but that just isn’t the case. As Methodists, we believe people can fall from grace. Because God gives us free will and because we are human beings who are flawed we can and do at times turn our backs on him. And even though God doesn’t want us to do that, he loves us so much he gives us the choice to stay or go. But it also means that by the grace of God, we can come back.
Some believe it is impossible to truly fall away from God.
It’s a doctrine we colloquially call “Once Saved, Always Saved.” It’s the idea that once we invite Christ into our lives, we can never lose our salvation. No matter what we do God has claimed us and we can’t be drawn away. That’s what our earlier reading this morning highlighted, this idea that nothing on this earth can separate us away from God. But being separated from God forcefully is different from being separated from God willingly and most of us know at least one person who left their faith behind. People who saw a loved one die or lose their job or have their home destroyed. People who hear about the atrocities happening both at home and abroad and think to themselves there must not be a God who would allow such horrible things. These people choose to stop following him. They leave the church. They stop praying. They don’t read their Bibles. In every practical way, they abandon their faith.
It’s what John Wesley referred to as backsliding.
In his sermon, “A Call to Backsliders,” he wrote, “Indeed, it is so far from being an uncommon thing for a believer to fall and be restored, that it is rather uncommon to find any believers who are not conscious of having been backsliders from God, in a higher or lower degree, and perhaps more than once, before they were established in faith.”[1] Backsliding is the term Wesley used for when we fall away from God’s grace. I once asked a Baptist friend of mine about this and he said Baptists don’t believe you can fall away. Most Baptists subscribe to the “Once Saved, Always Saved” doctrine, so I asked him, “What if a guy who gives his life to Christ later decides to go and murder a bunch of people, declares himself an atheist, and denounces the Holy Spirit? How would you explain that?” He told me, “Well, we would say he was never saved in the first place.” That was way too convenient so I asked, “What do you mean?” And he said, “If he could live a life like that after giving his life to Christ, deep down he never really meant it.” But aren’t there times when you honestly believe one thing and later believe something completely different? When I was a kid, I hated Sloppy Joes. If you don’t know what that is, it’s just ground beef, mixed with tomato sauce and spices and served on a hamburger bun. Most of my friends loved it, but not me. I hated it. But something happened over the years. My tastes changed or my experience changed and one day I found myself face-to-face with a Sloppy Joe and decided to try it – and found I really liked it! I wasn’t lying when I said before I hated it, and I wasn’t lying when I said I liked it. Simply, I changed. I think we all have that capacity to change.
And God’s counting on it.
God’s intention is for us all to come to him and want to be with him. God’s hope is that we realize that he truly is Lord and Savior. And God is waiting to welcome us with open arms. But God loves us so much that he gives us the freedom to choose. And even if we choose to come to him and later walk away, God will welcome us back. And even if we choose to come to him and walk away and never come back, God will honor that, but I think like it was for me and Taro, you’ll find God keeping an eye out for you, looking to see if maybe you just lost your way trying to come home, and hoping one day you’ll just show up on his doorstep. God would like that. I know I would.
[1] http://www.umc.org/what-we-believe/do-united-methodists-believe-once-saved-always-saved
Craig's Corner 