"The Sacred Still Speaks: Wisdom, Wandering, and Welcome"

Good morning, my fellow encouragers! Last Sunday, we reflected together on being spiritually awake. It’s a message that bears repeating every time we gather. Today, as we journey through this 9th Sunday after Trinity, our lectionary readings present us with a triple dose of divine truth: wisdom that calls to us, warnings about wandering, and the welcoming embrace of our Heavenly Father.

The Collect for today guides our reflection: "Grant to us, Lord, we beseech thee, the spirit to think and do always such things as are right; that we, who cannot do anything that is good without thee, may by thee be enabled to live according to thy will."

This prayer acknowledges our utter dependence on God's grace to live righteously. Without Him, we cannot think or do what is right. With Him, we are enabled to live according to His will. This captures the essence of the Anglican perspective on grace and human action: while we are entirely dependent on God, we are also encouraged to actively participate in the life of grace.

Our readings today weave together three essential truths that I pray you'll carry with you into the week ahead: Wisdom keeps us from wandering. Mercy welcomes us when we return. Faithfulness holds us when we stand.

In Proverbs 8, we encounter Lady Wisdom crying out at the city gates: "Doth not wisdom cry? and understanding put forth her voice? She standeth in the top of high places, by the way in the places of the paths. She crieth at the gates, at the entry of the city, at the coming in at the doors."

Notice that Wisdom positions herself at the crossroads, at the gates, and the entrances. Wisdom stands precisely where decisions must be made. She does not hide herself away in obscurity but proclaims her truth openly, publicly, and persistently.

The 17th-century Anglican theologian, Richard Hooker, reminds us that wisdom operates through Scripture, tradition, and reason. It’s what we often call the three-legged stool of Anglican theology. Wisdom is not just about having intellectual knowledge; it's about gaining divine insight that is accessible to anyone willing to pay attention.

Madame Wisdom continues: "Receive my instruction, and not silver; and knowledge rather than choice gold. For wisdom is better than rubies; and all the things that may be desired are not to be compared to it."

There’s a striking contrast here between material wealth and spiritual wisdom. In our consumer culture, where possessions often define worth, Ms. Wisdom boldly declares herself more valuable than precious metals and gems.

Here’s a poignant question for us to think about. Are we chasing the fleeting treasures of this world with blinders on to the eternal wisdom freely given by God? Are we frequently pouring our time, energy, and resources into things that can never truly fulfill us?

The Book of Common Prayer offers us daily wisdom through Morning and Evening Prayer, the Psalter, and scripture readings. But if we’re honest with ourselves, how many of us consistently utilize this "spiritually inspired tool" daily? Are we purposely and intentionally opening ourselves up to what gives us wisdom and divine insight?

This brings us to our Epistle reading from 1 Corinthians 10, where St. Paul issues a sobering warning by recalling Israel's wilderness wanderings: "Moreover, brethren, I would not that ye should be ignorant, how that all our fathers were under the cloud, and all passed through the sea; and were all baptized unto Moses in the cloud and in the sea; and did all eat the same spiritual meat; and did all drink the same spiritual drink."

The Israelites had everything they needed: divine guidance, miraculous deliverance, and spiritual nourishment. Yet Paul continues, "But with many of them God was not well pleased: for they were overthrown in the wilderness."

Despite their privileges, many fell into idolatry, sexual immorality, testing God, and grumbling. St. Paul makes clear that these accounts were written "for our admonition, upon whom the ends of the world are come."

So, from this, we can discern that spiritual blessing from God is not, in and of itself, a guarantee of spiritual dedication. The Israelites had extraordinary blessings yet stumbled repeatedly. We, too, at St. Barnabas have extraordinary blessings; our liturgical heritage, our community of encouragers, our ancient faith expressing real love, yet we are not immune to wandering.

Paul concludes with both a warning and a promise: "Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall. There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it."

Spiritual slumber leads to wandering, and wandering leads to falling. Yet God's faithfulness provides a way through every temptation. God doesn’t promise we won’t have trials in life. Even Jesus was tempted by the Devil in the wilderness. What God does promise is divine empowerment through them.

Which brings me to our Gospel reading and perhaps the most beloved parable Jesus ever told … the Prodigal Son from Luke 15. Here we witness the consequences of ignoring wisdom and the reality of wandering.

The younger son demands his inheritance prematurely, essentially telling his father, "I wish you were dead." Then he journeys to a far country where he squanders everything in "riotous living." When famine strikes, he finds himself feeding pigs. For a Jewish man, no occupation could be more degrading, and being so hungry, he was wont to eat the pods meant for swine.

St. Luke tells us, "And when he came to himself, he said, 'How many hired servants of my father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger!'"

This phrase, "when he came to himself," is vital for us to grab hold of. Think about it. It suggests that he was not his true self and had awakened from his spiritual slumber. Sin is always a distortion of our created nature, never an expression of it. In wandering, we do not find ourselves; we lose ourselves.

The son rehearses his confession: "I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants."

This is genuine repentance—acknowledging sin, accepting consequences, abandoning pride. Yet what follows exceeds all expectation: "But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him."

In Middle Eastern culture, dignified men did not run. Yet this father casts aside decorum, hitches up his robes, and races toward his wayward son. Before the son can even complete his rehearsed confession, the father interrupts with commands for restoration: the best robe, a ring, shoes, and a feast.

The father does not say, "You've learned your lesson; now earn back my trust." Instead, he immediately reinstates the son to his position in the family. He doesn’t just forgive him, but it’s a complete restoration.

This parable is the perfect illustration of justification by faith. We cannot earn our way back to God through good works. We can only return in repentance and receive the Father's gracious welcome.

But the parable doesn't end with celebration. The elder brother returns from the field, hears the music and dancing, and refuses to enter the feast. His complaint reveals his heart: "Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment: and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends."

Laid out for all to see is the older son’s self-righteousness. He’s a man who outwardly remained faithful but inwardly harbored resentment and entitlement. He never physically left home, but his heart was far from his father's heart.

This elder brother represents a particular danger for us. Those who have remained faithful in attendance at Sunday worship, who know the liturgy by heart, who have never "wandered" in obvious ways, can easily develop an elder-brother syndrome. It’s being outwardly observant but inwardly cold, technically obedient but lacking joy, physically present but spiritually asleep.

My fellow encouragers, "The Sacred Still Speaks." Wisdom still calls out at the crossroads of our decisions. The warnings about wandering still echo through Scripture and are just as relevant for us today as when it was written. Our Father in Heaven still watches the horizon for returning prodigals.

Our ancient faith offers real love, both the tough love of wisdom that keeps us from wandering and the welcoming love of mercy that restores us when we return.

As "The Encouragers," we are called to embody both aspects of divine love. Like Barnabas, the "Son of Encouragement," we must speak wisdom that prevents wandering and extend mercy that welcomes the returned.

How might we live this out practically? Three suggestions:

First, commit to daily engagement with the Book of Common Prayer. The daily office provides structure for encountering God's wisdom regularly. Even ten minutes with Family Morning Prayer can orient your entire day toward God's presence.

Second, recognize warning signs of spiritual wandering in your own life. These might include diminished prayer, growing comfort with sin, increased worldliness, or a critical spirit toward others. Remember St. Paul's warning: "Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall."

Third, practice both receiving and extending the Father's welcome. Come to the Lord's Table today, not based on your worthiness, but on His mercy. Then extend that same mercy to others who have wandered.

Remember: Wisdom keeps us from wandering. Mercy welcomes us when we return. Faithfulness holds us when we stand.

If someone asks this week what your priest preached about on Sunday, you might simply say: "He reminded us that God's wisdom guides us, His mercy restores us, and His faithfulness sustains us; and we access all three through regular prayer, Scripture reading, and faithful worship attendance."

May the God of wisdom, mercy, and faithfulness grant us the spirit to think and do always such things as are right, that we, who cannot do anything good without Him, may by Him be enabled to live according to His will.