Sermon: The Road Home by Rev. Steve Pierce
Scripture: Luke 15:11-32 (The Prodigal Son)

A Masterful Ending to a Composer’s Life

Prelude: Chorale in B Minor by César Franck (1822-1890) The Belgian-born César Franck was organist of St. Clotilde in Paris for over 30 years, and from 1872 onward professor of organ at the Paris Conservatoire. In the final year of his life Franck turned to the organ, as Brahms had before him, specifically focusing on an expanded form of the chorale to serve as the summation of his creative legacy. His Trois Chorals were first heard on October 2nd, 1890, in a performance on piano for his organ class at the Conservatoire, with a student playing the pedal part and luminaries such as Vierne and Tournemire in attendance. Five weeks later Franck was dead, but not before returning to the organ loft of St. Clotilde in order to map out the registrations (or choice of organ stops and colors) for these, his final masterpieces.

The Chorale No. 2 in B Minor is comprised of three mini-chorales or principal themes, which are heard in succession on this audio sample. [LISTEN] The work opens ominously with a mournful passacaglia-like theme in the bass, over which is heard a repeated note in the manuals. Could this be the tolling of Franck’s own death bell? The second chorale theme becomes more emotionally intense through Franck’s trademark chromatic voice-leading. This theme, and indeed much of the work, seems to portray an inner struggle and restlessness – the travails and tribulations through which we all must go before making peace with our ultimate destination, our home in the Lord. The final chorale theme is twelve measures of serene bliss which has been called an “overflowing paraphrase of divine love.” It serves both as a transcendent oasis in the middle of the work, and a “hard-won tranquility” which concludes the piece, and in a sense, Franck’s entire life.

Where Is Home?

Last summer I decided to do something I’ve always fantasized about. I drove across the country to Barrington, the sleepy Chicago suburb in which I grew up, pulled into the driveway of our old house and rang the doorbell. As I waited to see if I’d be welcomed in or turned away, I looked around at what was my life for 18 years. Like countless others who have made a similar pilgrimage, to me the house seemed tiny – really embarrassingly small, actually. I never thought of our family as poor, by any means, but I found myself pitying the family that now had to cram itself into this shabby excuse for a home. The yard which I proudly mowed to perfection had suffered profound neglect – an observation which gave me some perverse pleasure. The road on which my mother had thought nothing of letting me ride my bike has now swollen into a four lane highway, complete with a stoplight and left-hand turn lane right on our corner. As I stood sweltering on our front stoop, the relentless onslaught of traffic was worthy of a summer weekend in the Hamptons. Rubbernecking in Barrington? You’ve got to be kidding!

After several doorbell rings an annoyed man came to the door and basically shooed me away. What to me had been an important emotional journey and the culmination of a long-held desire was to the homeowner an irritating disruption in his day. There would be no welcome in or reminiscing, no peek inside the room where my parents had to peel me away from our old Baldwin acrosonic piano. Clearly this was not my home anymore, only a run-down ranch on a God-forsaken stretch of overgrown highway in the concrete desert of suburban Chicago.

Anthem: The Road Home, American Folk Hymn, arr. Stephen Paulus (b. 1949) In The Road Home, a hauntingly beautiful arrangement of an American folk hymn from the Southern Harmony, [LISTEN] there is a sweet nostalgia in both the text and the gentle music. (This audio sample is from one of my favorite choral CD’s of all time, Harvest Home by the Dale Warland Singers.) Each verse is framed by a simple “oo” in the choir, as the music wordlessly conveys an emotion which cannot by described. On Sunday this anthem will be interwoven with the reading of the parable of the Prodigal Son. My favorite phrase of Michael Dennis Browne’s text is, “There is no such beauty as where you belong, Rise up, follow me, I will lead you home.”

Perhaps that is the answer for which I have been searching: Home isn’t a street address, but rather the beauty of knowing I am exactly where God has called me to be.

Come Back to Me

Hymn: Purify Me by Theresa Lee Whiting [LISTEN] One of the joys of working at my former parish of St. George’s Church, Stuyvesant Square was collaborating with a wonderful singer and composer, Theresa Lee Whiting. She has written this lovely folk melody which will serve as our middle hymn and is sung here by our song leaders, Landon Westbrook and Adam Dodway. It carries the powerful Lenten message of repentance, returning to God, and renewing our daily relationship with Him. The first verse says, “So many times I’ve walked away, only to hear You softly say, ‘Come back to Me, I love you so, and I will never let you go.’” Truly, we serve a God who never gives up on us, a God of infinite second chances, a God who is waiting for our return with arms open wide in forgiveness and love.

You Who are Weary, Come Home

Hymn: Softly and Tenderly by Will L. Thompson (1847-1909) This hymn always makes me think of dear Henry Marsh, for we sang it at his funeral. What a bright light he was at Marble, and what a loving presence his wife Dorothy continues to be. It also makes me think of Geraldine Page and the amazing Academy Award winning film Trip to Bountiful (1985). I don’t know when I’ve cried more in a movie.

Will Thompson was born in East Liverpool, Ohio, and was also famous for composing popular songs, including “My Home on the Old Ohio.” He founded a very successful music publishing company and became a prominent businessman. But surely his greatest legacy lies not in any material wealth or commercial success he attained. His simple hymn, Softly and Tenderly [LISTEN], composed in 1880, gained world-wide popularity and was often used by Dwight L. Moody and Ira Sankey as a hymn of invitation in their evangelistic meetings throughout Great Britain and the United States. The oft-repeated story is that Thompson sang the hymn at Moody’s deathbed in Northfield, Massachusetts, and that the world-renowned evangelist said, “Will, I would rather have written ‘Softly and Tenderly’ than anything I have been able to do in my whole life.”

This Sunday, thankfully, most of us won’t be at death’s door as we close our service with this hymn. As we sing let us ponder the ways in which Jesus is calling us closer to Himself, more fully into His loving arms and into the beauty of knowing we are right where we belong.

Come home, come home,
Ye who are weary, come home;
Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,
Calling, O sinner, come home!