The Lines of the Prodigal Son

Luke 15:18-24 (NIV) -

I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ 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. “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ “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. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.

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You may have noticed that I haven't posted for a little while. Last weekend, our youth ministry had our annual Easter Camp, which was a fantastic experience. However, investing myself so heavily over those few days left me feeling pretty spiritually drained and this week has been a time of recovery for me. It's gone interestingly and has taught me some valuable lessons about rest which I may share in another post, but for now I would like to share an experience I had this morning.

One thing I can say of this week is that I have had to wrestle with myself a lot. Rather than seeking God alone to fill the gap, I unintentionally reverted to some old habits (when I get back into our Dealing With Idolatry series, I'll be looking more into that). One consequence of that is that I was up quite late last night doing quite meaningless things, and when I woke up this morning I was feeling pretty trash about that. I knew that it wasn't healthy, not to mention that getting to bed late impacted my morning today, leaving me feeling tired and groggy even after a sleep in I shouldn't have needed.

As I finally dragged myself out of bed to enter a time of prayer, I had one thought running around my head, rehearsing it to bring to God: "Father, I ask one thing of You - help me submit my will to yours." Keep in mind, I wasn't saying this out of any piousness but because I was feeling like trash and in my state of pity I was asking God to pull me up and out of my self-indulgence. This line spun around my mind clearly, over and over uninterrupted, until the moment I hit my knees and tried to give it to God.

As I tried to tell my Father how sorry I was and how much I needed His grace, I found myself feeling very strange. Every time I tried to finish the thought, I felt like something else kept butting in, a voice jumping over the top of mine saying something else so that my flow kept breaking and I couldn't complete my sentence. After trying to get it out for a little while, I finally stopped and listened to the other voice, and what I received was a picture of the Prodigal Son in our passage above.

You see, the Prodigal Son had been living a life of self-indulgence too, and like me he was brought to a place where there was no place left to go but to God. Very different ways and extremes, but still in the same place. Like me, he was rehearsing his line - a line of apology and repentance, begging for forgiveness and only the smallest measure of restoration - over and over. By the time he got home, he must have repeated those words a thousand times or more. Yet when he got to his father, he couldn't finish getting the words out.

I can imagine it so clearly. He's walking home, stumbling from how tired he is. He's been walking for days, weeks, and he's just staring at the ground as he walks, mumbling this line to himself like it's a mantra that is giving him his last thread of hope. His father, who has been waiting at the window in desperate anticipation for his son to come home, sees him trudging along the road and is overwhelmed with joy. He's so thankful, so joyous, so relieved, that he hikes up the edges of his tunic and starts running to meet his son, the judgments of others be damned. He's sprinting, calling out his son's name louder and louder.

In his dazed repetitions, a noise breaks through the son's train of thought. His name? He looks up and sees his father running towards him, and he stops dead in his tracks. What? Why is he running? He's so tired that he can barely think straight, and so he just stands dumbfounded as his father closes the distance between them and scoops his son up in the kind of hug that breaks rib cages. Wheezing for breath, face streaked with dirt, mind numb with exhaustion, the son starts mumbling out his apology: "Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son." He fights to get the words out between the breath being squeezed out of his lungs by his father's embrace, and he keeps having to start all over again because his father obviously isn't listening - instead, he's looking back to the house and calling for the servants!

Right at the moment that the son is about to say to his father, "Will you please just stop and listen to me?!" he realises what his father is saying. He is calling for the servants to go and get a robe, a ring, some sandals - even to bring the fattened calf and kill it for a great feast! He falls completely silent, lost for words as he realises what is happening. Somehow his father, the man who he had basically told to die then abandoned for the sake of temporary self-pleasure, is about to give him the symbols of his identity, authority, protection, and wealth. Not only that, but he is about to kill the most prized animal in his herd, the one saved for only the most special of occasions, just to celebrate his return home. But how? He doesn't deserve this. And yet as he looks at his father, seeing him calling the servants over and seeing the love deep in his eyes, he understands that that doesn't matter in the slightest.

At that moment, the tears start flowing uncontrollably. Anguish, relief, exhaustion, gratitude, disbelief, joy, all swirling about at once in a cacophony of emotion that bubbles its way up inside of him so powerfully that it cannot stay inside. He is home, and he is loved just as he always was - the difference is that this time, he can see it and appreciate it as it truly is without taking it for granted.

You see, the father already knew that the son was sorry, that he was repentant, because he had come home! And so he decided that this was not a time to wallow in grief, guilt and shame, nor to reflect on the regrets of the past, nor to get angry or discipline his son. Instead, it was time to celebrate that he who had been lost had come to his senses and returned to the place where he was loved and protected, showered with blessings and security and identity and authority.

That is the situation I found myself in this morning. God knew I was sorry, He knew I was repentant. In the moment that I found my way home as my knees hit the floor, He refused to let me finish my apology but instead decided to show me who I really am and what I have been given in Him, knowing that this time I will be able to appreciate those things without wasting them.

I believe right now that there are some of you in the same position that I was in this morning, and am even in as I write this. Shame has clung to you and you keep trying to bring your apologies to God for things that He has already forgiven. In this moment, I believe God is telling you that you don't need to keep making it up to Him, trying to be perfect to receive the tiniest scrap of His grace and mercy. Instead, He wants you to stop talking and start listening. As you do, He will begin to speak truths to you about who you are and what He sees in you. He will release you from the burdens you have been carrying for so, so long - the ones that you are so tired of carrying even though they were never yours to bear. There will be an outpouring of emotions that has been bottled up inside of you as all of the good and bad within you comes flooding up in a great outpouring to your loving Father, who welcomes you back as His own child without reservation.

All you need to do is stop and be still. Will you make time to let God speak to you today?