“His son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against both heaven and you, and I am no longer worthy of being called your son.’ But his father said to the servants, ‘Quick! Bring the finest robe in the house and put it on him. Get a ring for his finger and sandals for his feet. And kill the calf we have been fattening. We must celebrate with a feast, for this son of mine was dead and has now returned to life. He was lost, but now he is found.’ So the party began.”
Luke 15:21-24
There you have it—the stirring conversation that appears to conclude a story that begins in tragedy and ends in restoration. But wait a second, that isn’t the ending. There's something else, something very important that takes place. Why didn’t Jesus end the story here? Why did He go on to include another conversation between the father and the oldest son? A couple weeks ago Rob preached on this passage and pointed out that there’s a “meanwhile” in this story.
“Meanwhile, the older son was in the fields working. When he returned home, he heard music and dancing in the house, and he asked one of the servants what was going on. ‘Your brother is back,’ he was told, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf. We are celebrating because of his safe return.’ The older brother was angry and wouldn’t go in. His father came out and begged him, but he replied, ‘All these years I’ve slaved for you and never once disobeyed your orders. And in all that time you never gave me even one young goat for a feast with my friends. Yet when this son of yours comes back after squandering your money on prostitutes, you celebrate by killing the fattened calf!’ His father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. ’”
Luke 15:25-31
When reading this story, we need to keep in mind that Jesus never said anything by accident or without purpose. So why didn’t He stop at the homecoming of the prodigal son? It’s because this story isn’t just about salvation and forgiveness. There’s a lesson to be learned for those of us who relate more to the older son than the prodigal.
Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks. The first thing the older son said was “All these years I’ve slaved for you…” This statement shows how the older son viewed his relationship with the father. It wasn’t one of love, freedom, and vulnerability. Instead the older son felt the need to work and earn his father’s love and approval—a burden his father never imposed on either of his sons. Instead of enjoying the love that his father freely gave, the older son made everything a competition, invoking an irritated response when the honor, glory, and attention weren’t on him. I need to stop here and ask myself, is this how I view my relationship with God? Am I trying to earn something that He's already given me for free?
The older son also said “never once have I disobeyed you.” Oh really? It’s interesting how, when we get indignant, we so easily forget all our own flaws. He was self-righteous.
The third thing he said was “You never gave me one young goat to feast with my friends”, exposing his ungratefulness. He forgot all the other millions of things his father had done for him.
The third thing he said was “You never gave me one young goat to feast with my friends”, exposing his ungratefulness. He forgot all the other millions of things his father had done for him.
He then proceeds to cast all the blame and sin on his younger brother (vs 30). He wanted to be top dog, and he didn’t hesitate to commit character assassination in order to make himself look better. The oldest son was well and happy when everything was going his way. But as soon as his prodigal brother returned and things changed, he was thrown off balance and left grasping for something to stabilize himself. Because his heart wasn’t in the right place, the things he gripped for security showed his true character: selfishness, self-righteousness, attention-hungry, approval-seeking, and prideful. He should have been grasping for God (Father), and rooting himself in his Father’s love for him.
Notice, after all of this, the Father’s response:
Notice, after all of this, the Father’s response:
"Son, you are always with me, and everything that is mine is yours."
Wow, huh? Of all the things he could have said, the father only offered more grace and love. Isn't that just how God is with us? We strive and store up and kick and scream--all in an effort to get ourselves to the top or to make a name for ourselves that will merit us glory and honor. And all the while, our Father is with us and He's standing with open hands, not withholding anything we could ever need. What we do on the outside should be an expression of who we are on the inside. Too often, like the oldest son, we use it as a mask.
By this point you're probably wondering why I've entitled this blog "Aqua." Well, I'm about to tell you, so wonder no longer! While Rob was preaching, he had the text of his message on powerpoint so that the congregation could read along. As he led us through each statement that the older son made, he highlighted them one by one in the color red so that they would stand out. Then, at the conclusion of his sermon, he highlighted the words of the father in a different color--Aqua. Through a random conversation with a good friend, I recently discovered that the color aqua represents emotional healing and protection. In light of everything that Rob had just taught us concerning God’s heart for His children, I was really struck by the fact that he had chosen to highlight the words of the Father in the color aqua. It’s as if God was saying, “I want to heal my people. I want to bring healing to the deep parts, the places where no one sees. And you don’t need to be afraid, because everything I have is yours and I protect you. Everything I have is at your disposal so that you’ll never go without and you’ll never be left on your own. Stop striving, stop trying to earn it. And don't forget that you are always with Me.”
I've found it to be true that the harder I try to make myself good, the more clearly I can see my own depravity and the effect of the fall. But instead of being afraid, I need only to bring all of myself and lay it finally at my Father's feet, where He in return touches my life with Grace. David Crowder puts it well in his song Wholly Yours:
"This might be the most impossible thing--Your grandness in me, making me clean."
3 comments:
that was amazing and made me cry...but in a good way.
that image at the top is really powerful. and the older brother could care less if his brother barely made it home alive. he was lost, but now he is found...so what dad? what about me?
yikes.
Wow. Long read, but well worth it. Very good breakdown and insight.
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