Category: Christian life

Posted on

Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son: Becoming the Father

This is the fourth post in the series I wrote a few years ago. In The Return of the Prodigal Son, Henri Nouwen writes that the challenge for him is to become the father. It is a challenge that is full of difficulties. When we look again at the Father in our own stories, we can see how daunting it is.

Our Father is gracious and loving without condition. He gives us many good gifts, but the most important gift he gives is himself. The Father is reckless in giving himself to us. Jesus, who is the image of the Father, gave his very life for us, pouring out his blood for our salvation. We are granted grace and mercy without measure from an eternal, inexhaustible love. There is nothing our Father wouldn’t do for our good.

As children of God, we are called to be like him. When I look in a mirror, I see my dad. The eyes, the facial features, the hair (or lack thereof), the voice, all show whose son I am. The same is to be true of those who are children of the heavenly Father. As God is loving and compassionate, so we are to be loving and compassionate. As God is gracious and merciful, so we are to be gracious and merciful. As God gives himself, so we are to give ourselves. You get the idea.

In my late twenties my life changed as I became a father. Even though I was still a son, I was now a person with a child. That brought a change in responsibilities, and a change in perspective. As we mature in Christ, we are to leave both the prodigal and the elder son behind. We are still in need of fathering from God, but our vocation changes. We are now called to be the father. As I look at the father in the story, I see some things that will be true as we become the father. Nouwen states that the three ways to compassionate fatherhood are grief, forgiveness, and generosity.

We grieve over those who have left home, we grieve over the injustice and abuse in the world, and we grieve over our own weakness. One aspect of grieving is realizing that we cannot save the one who has wandered away. The father in the story didn’t go after his son, but he watched and waited for him to return. So it is with us. Many times, all we can do is pray that God will turn the prodigal around. We can not go into the far country and drag them back. All we can do is wait and be ready to welcome them home.

This grieving makes us sensitive to others who are hurting, and the sensitivity leads us to forgive those who wrong us. As the father did, we forgive without question any and all who return. As Jesus said, we forgive, and forgive, and forgive, and forgive, and so on. True forgiveness also reconciles. The father didn’t say to the prodigal, “I forgive you, but I think I’ll just keep you on as a servant.” He accepted him back as his beloved son. No strings attached.

The third way to compassionate fatherhood is generosity. The father spared nothing to celebrate his son’s return. He gave the best of everything, including himself. We are called to give ourselves to others in the same way. Yes, we may get hurt. I’m sure the father was hurt when the elder son refused to join the party, and I would guess the younger son wasn’t perfect after he was restored. He may well have cause his father more pain. We are to remember the hurt we have caused our Father and the grace he gives us regardless, and do the same for others.

May the Father enable us to be as gracious, loving, and compassionate to others as he is to us.

 

 

Posted on

Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son: The Father

The story in Luke 15 is popularly named for the prodigal son, but it could be titled, “The Story of the Prodigal Father.” Prodigal means recklessly extravagant, and I think that describes the actions of the father in the story. Jesus told this story in response to the criticism that he ate and drank with sinners. It is a picture of God’s extravagant love toward repentant sinners.

The father granted the younger son’s request, even though it was a slap in the face. As a father, I can begin to imagine the grief he felt as his son rejected him and everything he stood for. Rather than writing the son off as a lost cause, the story seems to indicate that the father was constantly looking for him to return. In spite of his grief he kept hoping. When the prodigal returned, the father saw him coming in the distance and ran to meet him. Imagine this dignified man running out to greet his son. In those days, one who did what the son had done would be met by the village elders if he returned and officially banished. The father was not only overjoyed to see his son, he was also protecting him.

Before the son could get his speech out, his father told the servants to prepare for a huge blowout party. He covered the son’s rag’s with a luxurious robe, put good sandals on his feet, and a ring on his finger. All of these were things a beloved son would wear, not a servant. There were no words of disapproval or recrimination, only grace and compassion. When the elder brother acted like a jerk and refused to join the party, the father went to him with grace, reminding him that he was also a beloved son. Again, there were no harsh words from the father.

We have the same kind of Father. When we wander away from him, forgetting who we are, he is waiting patiently for us to return. He knows we will return because his Spirit draws us. We are told in Scripture that God’s kindness leads us to repentance. He doesn’t force us back and hold us against our will. It’s grace and love that brings us to him, and it’s grace and love that keeps us home. In the same way, when we think we somehow have to perform to cause the Father to love us more, or think our good deeds mean we are better than our brothers, the Father calls us to remember that he loves us because he loves us. He doesn’t love us any less when we screw up, and he doesn’t love us any more when we do good things.

Sometimes we forget who our Father is, and who we are as his children. God calls us back to him, not as a servant. He calls us back, not as someone who has earned his love. No, the Father calls us to return home, remembering that we are his beloved children. He is ready to welcome us with open arms and celebrate our return.

 

Posted on

Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son: The Older Son

The first post in this series looked at the main character in the story of the prodigal son; the younger son who had gone off with his inheritance and wasted it, and then came back. This post looks at the older son.

When the prodigal son returned home, there was one person who was conspicuously absent. The elder son was out in the fields, working as he had for years. In contrast to his younger brother, the older son had stayed home, working hard and obeying his father.

When he came in from another hard day’s work, the elder brother saw all the lights on in the house, heard the music and laughter, and noticed the activity of the servants. In answer to his questions, a servant replied that the younger son had returned and the father was welcoming him home with a huge party. The older son didn’t think this was such a good idea. In fact, he was pretty ticked off and refused to go into the house and join the festivities.

When the father came out to ask his oldest son to join them, he refused. He complained that during all the years he had spent doing everything the father had wanted, being the dutiful son, he had never even received one single goat to have a cookout with his friends. “On top of that, this son of yours has wasted his inheritance on wild parties and whores, and you’ve killed the fattened calf for him?”

How many of us have, at one or more times in our lives, been upset because grace has been shown to an individual who is a “worse sinner” than we are? (I see that hand. It’s mine) We just can’t believe that they got away with it! Our attitude is often the same as that of the Americans who rejoiced when Osama Bin-Laden was killed. That so-and-so got what he deserved. We want justice (usually meaning what the other person deserves) when it comes to others, yet many times we would prefer that mercy be shown to us. Sometimes, while the angels in heaven are rejoicing over one sinner who has repented, we are taking a wait and see attitude. After all, we don’t want to be played for a fool.

Sometimes we are like the elder brother when we think that because we have been good little boys and girls, God owes us. We wonder why God doesn’t answer our requests, because after all, we’ve been faithful in church, we’ve served others, we’ve had faith and claimed that answer, whatever. Then, when God doesn’t “come through” for us, we start looking around for answers. Maybe I didn’t have enough faith. Maybe I didn’t pray hard enough. Maybe I need to search my heart and see if there’s a sin I forgot to confess. Or, we begin to doubt the goodness of God toward us. “If God really loves me, why didn’t he give me what I want.”

Like the prodigal, the elder brother forgot who we was. Even though he had never left the property, he too had left home. As the oldest son, it was his responsibility to go out, find his little brother, and bring him home. It seems that his attitude was one of, “ Good riddance! Let the little weasel get what he deserves. I’m sure our father is pleased that at least one of us is not out bringing shame to the family.” He had also forgotten the character of his father. The father was obviously a kind, loving, and generous man. He was full of grace and mercy, and wanted the best for his sons. He was quick to forgive, and to let past offenses stay in the past. Interestingly, that sounds a whole lot like our Father. He is slow to anger, and quick to forgive. He doesn’t dredge up our past and hold it against us. He loves his children with an everlasting love, and his heart is good to us.

We can not earn the grace of our Father. It is his to give freely, and his alone. We are not to look on others and complain when they don’t “get what they deserve.” Most of the time we don’t know how God is working in another individuals life. To paraphrase Aslan, God is not telling us their story, he is only telling us ours. Judging whether or not a person should receive grace is way above our pay grade. We are called to rejoice when others rejoice. Kind of like the angels. At different times in my life, I have been the older brother, thinking that those who didn’t believe like I did were the ones who wandered away, and believing that I had all the right answers. I would have fit in well with the Pharisees. Then, I turned around and became Pharisaical towards those who were the Pharisees, those who lived by rules and regulations. I learned that this attitude was also wrong.

We have all been the elder brother in some way or another. Our Abba is calling us to join the party.

 

Posted on

Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son: The Younger Son

A few years back, I did a series of posts on the story of the Prodigal Son. I watched a Tim Keller video on that story a few days ago, and it started me thinking about reposting the series. So here it is.

Today, I’m starting a four part series on the story of the Prodigal Son. The story of the prodigal is a story of God’s grace to his wayward children when they come home. It is also a story with a number of layers that speak to us in different ways at different times in our lives. Henri Nouwen wrote a book titled, The Return of the Prodigal Son, based on his reflections on a painting by Rembrandt. My ramblings come largely from reading this book.

The first person we encounter in the story is the younger son. This son comes to his father and asks for his part of the inheritance that would come to him after his father dies. This is more than just a request to get money due him earlier than he would normally receive it. The ones who heard this story would have been outraged at the attitude of the younger son. In effect, he was saying to his father, “I reject you and everything you stand for, your culture, your religion, everything. I wish you were dead!” In a culture where rebellious children could be stoned to death, this was a dangerous and devastating statement for the son to make and for the father to hear. The father however, decided to give his son what he asked for. He handed over the money and said goodbye. As a father, I can imagine the heartbreak he went through as one of his sons turned his back on everything and left.

The younger son went off to a “distant country,” where he squandered his inheritance on parties and whores. He was completely deaf to the voice that would have reminded him of his father’s love and of what he had been taught. In short, he forgot who he was. I would imagine that most of us can see ourselves in the younger son in some way. Some may have wandered into a life of dissipation and come out of it. Others may have experimented with some things but not gone all the way in. In my own life, I was drawn in to things that were not good for me, although I never wandered completely away. Of course, there are some out there who would consider me a prodigal today.

There is another way to be the younger son, a way that many, many more have fallen into. That is the way of forgetting whose child we are and trying to get our identity from other things or other people. That is the way I most identify with the prodigal. Whether it’s from a job, a skill, a style, or a group of people, we try to prove our worth by other things than what our Father says. Our culture says that what is important is how you dress, what job you have, what kind of car you drive, how much money you make, or what group you hang out with. Unfortunately, those things become like the husks the prodigal wished to eat while feeding the pigs. Trying to find our worth and identity in any thing of this world is a futile exercise, leading to emptiness.

Fortunately for the prodigal, he did come to his senses and remember who he was. I can see him slapping himself on the forehead, and saying, “What am I doing here? I’m not a pig farmer! I’m a son of a father who has a lot of money and food! Why am I starving here?” So, after coming to his senses he returned home. He still didn’t completely remember who we was though. Or better, he didn’t understand completely the kind of person his father was. His plan was to go home and convince his father to give him a job. He didn’t believe his father would accept him back as a son. We sometimes also forget who we are dealing with when we go to our Father. We believe the lies that we can’t be his child if we do certain things, or that we have to do something to get ourselves back into his good graces. We feel we have to “get right with God.” We forget that our Father loves us and always accepts us.

The son returns and finds himself in the midst of a homecoming better than he could have imagined. He can’t get his prepared speech out before his father welcomes him back and throws the biggest party the neighborhood has ever seen. So it is when we come to our senses and remember who we are. We are beloved children of the Creator of the universe. He is pleased with us, and there is absolutely nothing we can do to cause his love to decrease, and nothing we can do to increase his love. He holds us in his hands and nothing can pull us out. Period.

Remember who you are. If you’ve forgotten, your Father is looking for your return so he can lavish his grace and love on you.

Posted on

Serving by Washing

It was just before Passover. Jesus and his disciples were in an upstairs room eating the Passover meal together. Jesus knew that his time to leave this world was near. I don’t know about you, but I probably would have been thinking about myself, and trying to maneuver the conversation around so I would be encouraged, and would know that I was loved. Jesus however, showed his followers his love for them, and left an example of that love for us to follow.

He got up from the table, took his outer garment off and wrapped a towel around himself. He then took a basin with water and proceeded to go to his disciples and wash their feet. I have read that this was a common practice for hosts to have their guests’ feet washed as they entered. This foot washing was done by the lowest of the household servants. Now don’t get the idea that this was a simple thing. Back in those days, people walked around barefoot, or with sandals on their feet. The roads and streets were dirt, and the people shared them with donkeys, cattle, and other animals. There also were no street cleaners around, so you can imagine what would have to be cleaned from a person’s feet. Not a job that is going to have applicants out the door.

So, here we have the King, who knew what faced him, taking the job of a bottom tier servant to show his love to his followers. Not just that, he also left them, and us with a lesson. They rightly called Jesus, “Teacher” and “Lord.” If the Lord stooped to wash his disciples feet, to do the dirtiest job, how much more should his followers be willing to stoop to serve their fellow disciples. Later, Jesus gives a new command. He tells his followers that they are to love one another as he loved them, by laying down their lives for each other. He says that there is no greater love. We are told in other passages that if we love God with all of our being and love others as ourselves we fulfill all of the Law.

Why does the world today reject Christ? There are any number of reasons you could state. I believe that one of the primary reasons the world rejects Jesus is that they don’t see him in those who claim to follow him. Ask people what they think of Christians, and you might hear such things as hypocrites, controlling, political. You might even hear loving, peaceful, or like Jesus. It depends on who you are talking to.

If you asked a person in the first century what they thought of this strange new sect that proclaimed Jesus as the True King, you might hear some of the rumors. However, you were more likely to hear that they shared what they had with each other, and with their neighbors. You might hear that they went out and rescued babies left by the road to die. At one point you might hear that they were quite willing to give up everything, including their lives.

Our King didn’t come on a war horse to conquer and set up a “Christian nation.” He didn’t come to kill his enemies. The King we follow came riding a donkey, performed the job of a lowly slave, and gave his life for us. As we remember the night that Jesus washed feet, and maybe wash feet ourselves, let us remember what it is to we are called to.

Posted on

Little Shop of Horrors?

Earlier this week, I drove a busload to a local high school to see a performance of “Little Shop of Horrors.”  It was a fun way to spend an afternoon, and it even provoked some thoughts. Disclaimer: my thoughts are not always normal.

The play is set in a failing flower shop on Skid Row. One of the employees, a young man named Seymour, comes into possession of an unusual plant that looks somewhat like a Venus Flytrap. The plant appeared mysteriously after a total eclipse. After the plant is displayed, the shop begins to do a booming business. Seymour soon realizes that keeping the plant alive and growing requires human blood.

As time goes on, the shop begins to prosper more and more, and Seymour himself begins to be famous. He is in high demand, and begins to fall into the “end justifies the means” trap. After a couple people end up dead and eaten, Seymour realizes that things are beginning to get out of control. However, he doesn’t know how to get himself out of this mess that he is in. After losing the woman he loves to the plant, he tries to  kill it and ends up being eaten himself. Because of an earlier deal Seymour had made with a grower, the plants are propagated and end up taking over the world.

As I watched the performance, I began to think about the Church, and its relationship to politics. Those of us who claim to follow the King of Kings are subjects of a Kingdom that transcends earthly kingdoms. The problems come when the Church, like Seymour, latch on to things that we think will bring power and prestige and allow us to influence others. We think, like Seymour, “What’s a little blood? It doesn’t take much, and it’s helping the cause so much!” We don’t realize that, like the plant, the systems of this world will not be satisfied with just a little blood. They continually cry, “Feed me!,” and demand greater and greater allegiance.

Look at the times when the Church has mixed with the state, from Constantine through the religious wars of Europe, through Germany in the 1930s and on into today’s struggles in Europe and the United States. The Church (Seymour) has enjoyed some brief periods of power and influence, but ultimately it’s been the state (the plant) that has come out the winner. The lure of using the power of the state to promote the Church is seductive, and it does make things better for some, for awhile. But the cost is far greater than we realize.

We are called to proclaim that Jesus is the True King, that he calls us to follow and obey him, and that he will return some day to consummate his Kingdom and set everything right. As part of that, we are called to speak the truth, whether that is to our neighbors, or to those in positions of power. We cannot speak truth to those in power if we are tangled up with them. As George Bernard Shaw said, “Never wrestle with a pig because you’ll both get dirty, and the pig likes it.”

Since our allegiance is to be given to the King of Kings, we should stay away from entangling ourselves with the powers of this world. It may be satisfying for awhile, but eventually they will eat us.