The Church is for the People

Hey everyone, this is Josh from Encounter Church

Henley and thanks so much for tuning into our

podcast. Our prayer is that through this podcast

you can have an encounter with Jesus that will

change your life. And now get ready for an inspiring

message from our preaching team. For those who

don't know me, my name is Tex, and I am one of

the pastors here at Encounter Henley. Now, Tex

is a nickname that I picked up living in, you

guessed it, Texas. So I picked that up while

I was living in Dallas, Texas. However, I carry

an Australian passport, which is accompanied

with an accent that would not be out of place

in an episode of Kath and Kim, which is a timely

reference. I was born in England, however. So

I am an Australian citizen. with an American

name and English blood. So as a result, you might

not be surprised to find that for me the concept

of where home is or what home looks or feels

like can feel a little bit convoluted at times.

Now I haven't lived in England for literal decades

because I am not a young man. And most of my

family though still reside, I was going to say

it before somebody else yelled it out. So most

of my family that live in the UK actually still

reside in the same little fishing village called

Kingsbridge. This beautiful picturesque rolling

hills roll into the sand. Gorgeous kind of place,

right? And I got to tell you, whenever I do go

back, it's that first lung full of air. As soon

as you get out of the city and I kind of get

back there and I'm sitting at this little estuary,

like that first lung full of air. just kind of

tells me that I'm home. And then there's that,

that always kind of gives way to the great British

pastime of going to the local pub. And that first

pint of beer, the first pint of London Pride

while I'm there with my family, my cousins, my

aunties, my uncles, it just lets me know like

you're home, it's okay. But the truth is whenever

I do go back, whenever I get that opportunity,

it's also those feelings, those moments, those

beers at the pub, those sitting around the table

together, they're always tinged with just this

little bit of sadness and this little bit of

grief as well because they serve as reminders

of who I am right now, but also who I just haven't

been able to be as part of that family unit,

as part of that. area that I call home. There

was weddings that I couldn't attend. There's

been birthdays that I've missed more than I can

count. Grandparents who I didn't get to visit

and have cups of tea with certainly didn't get

to sit at their bedside while machines beeped

as they came to the end of their life. All these

kind of milestones, all these things that I think

we associate with what it means to be available

to people, what it means to be around, what it

means to be part of a family, and what it means

to be at home. And the older that I get, the

greater the gaps become, both physically and

metaphorically, because as I think about it,

I'm constantly forced to re -evaluate, like,

is that actually home anymore? I'm really distant

from those people now. If I showed up again tomorrow,

would it be the same? Would it feel like home?

Would I be welcomed? I mean, I hope so. But I

can't be sure, we can never be sure. Do they

look at me still as part of that family? Is home

still home? And all those questions lead me to

this realization that the idea of returning home

feels really, really hard. Now maybe your version

of home isn't quite as far away as England. Maybe

it's not as physically distant as that. But I

can't help but wonder if maybe... I start there

and then I kind of work my way through to other

things and I wonder if for you this brings up

memories or visions of other areas in your life

where the idea of returning home feels hard.

Now maybe it's a physical place you've called

home, it could also be a relationship or a person

that has felt like home and the way back feels

really uncertain and as a result feels really,

really hard. Maybe you moved out of your childhood

home. You got married or you just got roommates.

You just moved out. And then you just kind of,

you know, you used to stop in at home every couple

of weeks and then that kind of eased up. And

then you'd call home every week because that's

a bit easier, right? And then calls gave way

to text messages and all of a sudden you go,

I don't actually remember the last time I spoke

with mum or dad. And then you're like, well,

I'll just call them. And there's a few times

you've brought the number up in the phone, but

hitting that little green dial button just feels

really, really tough. It can be really simple.

bring it much closer to home, maybe that person

that feels like home, that distance that feels

far is literally just on the other side of the

couch. It's a partner or it's a spouse that...

You know, you've wrapped all this energy and

time and love up into, and all those feelings

of love and closeness and emotional connection

have been replaced by sending each other Instagram

reels occasionally and asking, do you need anything

when you get up from the couch? There's nothing

wrong with that, but it's not a replacement for

real relationship. It's not a replacement for

that real feeling of home. And the further away

we get from where we were, the harder it feels

like to begin that path. back home like how do

you do it how do you go from where you were to

where you're here and back again it feels hard

and today's teaching and today's story is really

just a reaffirmation of that truth and how hard

coming home can be now Jesus is telling this

story and of the prodigal son to a room full

of we'll call it mixed company everything from

tax collectors and prostitutes to Pharisees who

were kind of, Pharisees get like this really

bad rap but really at the time they were biblical

scholars, they were respected teachers a lot

of them and then so Jesus and he loved to teach

via stories which is helpful for me because I

love to tell stories and I love to talk about

stories as well. We refer to as parables and

this specific parable begins with a son who is

effectively, round or bow, give or take a little

bit, kind of wishing his dad, you know, dead.

So he's Because he says, Father, I want my inheritance

now. Now, normally, how do you get your inheritance?

You know, you can spell that one out. And he

wants it now. And then you think about it, you're

like, I wonder what he wants it for. And it's

really, it's just, he just wants the money. Maybe

he wants like a flawed sense of self identity,

maybe a misplaced concept of freedom. It's all

kind of a bit of a, it's all a bit backwards.

It's all a bit about face. And what's even more

kind of weird than the shocking request is that

the shock of the fact that the father acquiesces

to that request. He goes, okay, and he agrees.

And then. When the Sun just he leaves he gathers

his possessions and he leaves now before this

stage at this stage This is what I love about

this story is all these little touch points at

this stage He could have probably undone a lot

of the hurt from the initial request If he just

kind of stopped and went hey, you know what whoops

my bad. That wasn't very cool, but he doesn't

He leaves and then he travels far We're told

he travels to a distant country, which means

he's not one town over, which means there's no

chance of his curmudgeonly older brother kind

of stumbling into him at the pub while he's doing

whatever it is that he's doing, right? He's put

in great effort to ensure that there is great

distance. Now there is physical distance between

him and his family, between himself and home.

And then he proceeds and he squanders the money.

Now again, I like to just kind of point out a

few things as we go. This is money that he has

squandered that he did not earn. This isn't actually

his money. This is half of his family's fortune.

This is half of his father's money. And you'd

think at some point, maybe it would cross his

mind after the second or third or fourth wild

night, like, maybe that'll do. Maybe that's enough.

But he doesn't. Maybe... Maybe the damage is

done Just just enough that I can kind of go back

with half the bag full of money and go I'd like

to try again if that's okay, but he doesn't do

that So what he's done now is he's got this physical

distance that he's created, with every day that

he stays gone, with every poor decision that

he makes, he's creating a greater emotional distance

from his family away and it just gets compounded

with time away. Sort of like me talking about

earlier with my family, the further I stay away,

the longer I send without sending that message,

without that phone call, without knocking on

that door, it compounds. It just makes it harder

and harder and harder to go back and knock on

that door. So we're told again that through this

wild spending and reckless living that he just

he empties the coin purse It's gone every penny

You think okay, so maybe now Maybe now we can

have another little think about what we're doing

here and what we've done and we can just reset

the ledger a little bit or Instead we can stay

gone and he chooses that one and then a famine

takes over the land And he takes the only job

that he can find, which is working in squalid,

offensive and shameful conditions. He's feeding

pigs. This is a huge no -no in Jewish culture.

Like, pigs are kind of the lowest and the dirtiest

of the dirty. And this is what he's done. So

now he's hungry. He's living on scraps. He's

ashamed. He's broke. And in his eyes, there's

no doubt that he is just a wasteful drunk. He's

squandered half of his family's fortune. He is...

destitute, he's working in the lowest of conditions,

he's brought great shame upon himself, upon his

father, the list keeps on going, right? And it's

at this moment we need to realise that he didn't

start there. The reason I've gone through this

in such kind of detail is so that we can understand

that he doesn't start at the other end of this

great chasm. He gets there with a series of repeated

and continual misjudgment and mistakes and each

one is taking him a little bit further from home

and making it just that little bit harder to

go back again. Now there's no way to hide the

fact that he's behaved terribly. He's made a

lot of bad decisions here. But that's on him.

And he kind of half has a realization and it

hits that he's like, this is not me, but my father,

despite all that I've done, it doesn't actually

change the fact that his father is a good man.

And he's finally worked out that he needs to

head home, but he has no intent of returning

home to his place as a son of a loving father.

His hope is that he can return of a slave of

a good master. There's a big difference in that.

He does that because he's afraid that the damage

that he's done is too great to come back from.

That he may crave home, or aversion of home,

but it may never feel like home again. He may

never feel welcome there again. Will he be welcomed?

He has no way of knowing. But it's this reality

of that going home is going to be hard, but not

going home is going to be even harder. So he

goes. There's just no way to imagine just on

that slow and long walk home. Remember, he's

gone to a very distant country. He has got quite

the walk home. there's no doubt that on that

he's just got this this thought that running

through their head we've all played this game

every time we have to do something difficult

right every time we have to do something hard

there's that fear there's the guilt there's the

shame every step every plotting step i bet you

some of those steps felt real slow and real short

in between right i wonder on that journey how

many times did he think about just stopping now

this will do Close enough. Close enough is good

enough. Maybe you thought about turning back.

Maybe at that point, maybe the shame of living

in the pig pen and the hunger felt maybe a little

bit more appealing than the shame and the difficulty

of going home. And with all of this, no doubt

still running through his head, we are told that

the Father sees him from a great distance away

and is filled with great compassion for him.

I love this. What does the Father do? What does

the Father do? He runs away. He sprints towards

His Son. He is so desperate to wrap His arms

around Him, to kiss Him, to feel His touch, just

to know that He's there. Is that really Him?

That's all He's interested in. And He's yelling

to His servants, bring the finest robe, bring

a ring for His finger, sandals for His feet,

each and every item, each and every request of

those around Him. just reinforces this idea that

I don't want to just simply meet my son's basic

needs. I want him to know that he is loved and

back home where he belongs. Now this sound sounds

like joyful chaos to me. I love it. Because you've

got this son who's like trudging in the door

like Eeyore and you've got this father just absolutely

effusive with love and praise and... The son

does manage though to blurt out some of what

it is that he's intending to say. He manages

to get a father, I have sinned against heaven

and before you and I am no longer worthy to be

called your son. Now this is such a, it's one

sentence really, it's so simple on its face,

but it's in this beautiful exposition that we

see the son's deep change. It's in this we see

him recognising that he needs to be home. It

doesn't actually matter at that point how he

got there, he got there. And it's through that

that the rest of the story is able to take shape.

But think about this, the father's like yelling,

he's ranting, he's like, get this, get this,

get this, get that, get the fattened calf, we're

gonna celebrate, we're gonna have a party. The

father's not listening. In truth, he's not really.

This isn't his focus. He's too busy preparing

the party. He's too excited that his son comes

home. When he sprinted towards his boy, he did

not know that an apology or recognition of what

he had done was coming. He had no idea. It didn't

matter. It didn't matter. The sons coming home,

these fears that I share, and I wonder if maybe

they're potentially the ones that you share about

coming home, is like whenever I'm looking at

trying to fill that gap that I've created with

my actions. That's what I'm worried about. What

have I done? What haven't I done? Who am I now?

Who was I then? What's gonna happen? And every

time I go home, do you know what happens? My

family's just so excited to see me. That's it.

They're just so happy I'm there. The son had

only been able to see what he had done. But the

father was only ever interested in seeing him

for who he was. He's not interested in what had

happened. He's interested in what's happening

now and who the son is and that's it. A parent

you feel distant from? What do you reckon is

going to happen if you go knock on the door or

if you make that phone call? I'm telling you

now, it's going to drip away. It's not going

to matter. All the other stuff that might matter

right now, in that moment, it disappears. It

melts away. Why? Because it's you. Your spouse

on the other end of the couch, what do you think

is going to happen when you go, hey, I need to

talk to you for two seconds. I need to remind

you of who I am and who you are, that you are

the one that I have chosen and that I am the

one that you have chosen. In that moment, They

don't think the cup of tea going cool in the

kitchen is going to be the first priority on

their lips We can't Can't ignore the truth that

these homecoming though in these moments of clarity

they do not erase our past The choices and mistakes

that we've made to get us to where we got to

don't simply vanish they don't the bad decisions

remain But when the son does come home, this

is a son that the father at one point had feared

may even be dead, the mistakes are simply not

as important as your presence. The difficulty

of homecoming all but erases that with that one

simple truth. The simple truth being is that

home was never really a place at all. Home was

always just where the Father was. That's His

home and that's His place within it. It was found

and promised and secured in that simple truth.

We may find it hard coming home to God for the

same reason that I find it hard coming home sometimes

and for the same reason that the Son found it

hard coming home to His Father. But it doesn't

matter how poor we think or maybe our behaviour

has actually been. It doesn't matter how far

from home we feel, how far from God love we feel

like we are is because God's love will continue

to strip away any other title we may choose to

give ourselves for the only title that's ever

mattered to Him and that is that of a beloved

child of God. That is the only title that matters.

Much like that homecoming that God offers us.

Our identity isn't linked to that series of decisions,

good, bad or otherwise. Our identity is just

that, beloved child of God. And our home isn't

a place. Our home is found in our relationship

with that very same loving God. Why think back?

The son comes home not because of who he is.

The son comes back because of the truths about

who his father is. God's faithfulness is not

dependent on our faithfulness. God's character

and love is not defined by our character and

love. We are not servants of a good master. We

are sons and daughters of a loving father. When

we recognize that fact, when we come home to

that truth, there is nothing left to do but celebrate.

When we make the choice to turn back to our loving

Father, we will always find that God is already

sprinting back down the road towards us. Now,

those hard journeys home, you know, I'm banned

if you can come back up, that'd be lovely, thank

you. Those hard journeys home, those prodigal

son moments. It's funny. I always thought about

it in this one thing. Yeah, the protocols returned

and we think about it as like a one -time thing

But it's not even once we recognize that our

home is in God the Father we do tend to wander

off a little bit sometimes Sometimes it's a short

distance and Sometimes we repeat old mistake.

So we create distance again and we repeat the

narrative to ourselves of this time I've gone

too far, this time I've made one too many bad

decisions, this time I've strayed, this time

the hurt's a little too much, I have strayed

that little bit too far from my loving Father

and this time I cannot go home. I need you to

hear me. You cannot ever out -send, out -distance

or out -run God's love. for you. You are never

ever too far from a home found in him and when

you get there the loving arms of your father

are ready to draw you in closer again and again

and again. Now these homecomings and the celebrations

that we talk about that happen as a result I

gotta tell you they are exactly why encounter

Henley exists. We exist, as Ash said before,

so that every person has an opportunity to have

their own homecoming. Now homecoming is built

and formed in an encounter with Jesus. For some

people it may be for the first time and for some

people it may be for the hundredth time. But

each one is formed out of the truth that it is

not about what you've done, it is about who you

are. Because that's who our God is. and how God

only cares about is His identity as a Father

and ours as His sons and daughters. Ours is a

God that was willing to walk the hard path. Ours

is a God that was willing to sacrifice His one

and only Son solely out of His love for us. Not

just for us, He did it for every saint that had

a past and He did it for every sinner that has

a future. His love, compassion and faithfulness

are a guarantee that we never need to fear coming

home again. Thanks again for listening. God bless

you.