St. Francis of Assisi once wrote, “The devil never rejoices more than when he robs a servant of God of the peace of God.”
Sometimes I think maybe I’ve made the devil dance far too many times.
I confess that peace has never been really high on my list. Love, joy, kindness, and even goodness are clear priorities. Peace… not so much. Until it’s not there. And then I get frantic by its absence and look for it with manic bewilderment.
Sometimes I don’t understand why God still loves me. At times like this anxiety eats at me. I beat myself up by my last failure. The guilt of my latest sin grows until it looms larger than the blood that saved me. Sometimes I suppose, religious people have the most neurosis.
I’m afraid that we are taking “the present tense’ out of the Gospel. The past tense is far preferable to us as we manage the Christian life. We like to make check marks on our list. Repentance– check. Baptism– check. Bible study– check. I think it gives me a definite feeling of ‘maturity.’
But these matter little without intimacy with Jesus.
I certainly haven’t arrived, and it seems at times I’m still the hideous sinner I always was. I cannot pretend otherwise, even with a truckload of cosmetics at my disposal. I know, I’ve tried. And I’m still ‘ugly.’ I do know forgiveness, and I do walk in its wonderful light (by grace.)
I read Luther 30 years ago. (And Bonhoeffer would say something similar.)
“When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, ‘Repent,’ he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.”
Martin Luther
This is the first of his 95 Theses nailed to the door of Wittenburg. There is a present tense here we can’t ignore. I don’t just repent over smoking, beer drinking, fornication, or hypocrisy, once and done. But my entire way of living is to be one of repenting.
Repentance is your key to open up the door of grace.
“All of the Christian life is repentance. Turning from sin and trusting in the good news that Jesus saves sinners aren’t merely a one-time inaugural experience but the daily substance of Christianity. The gospel is for every day and every moment. Repentance is to be the Christian’s continual posture.”
John Piper
Luther’s last words, on his deathbed, was found written on a scrap of paper words, “We are beggars! This is true.” Thirty years before, he was only echoing his first thesis.
It seems dear ones, we are to live at the foot of the cross.
I grew up in Northern Wisconsin, and we lived in a large brickhouse with a huge basement. As the oldest I was tapped to keep the wood furnance going in the long cold winter. It meant 3-4 trips down everyday. It gave me nightmares.
I was terrified of descending into the darkness. Petrified.
It seems like we’re just 1-2 steps from sin, or maybe 1-2 clicks? I would like to suggest that every Christian has a basement, or cellar. (See Romans 7:14-25.) And, as a believer in Jesus, it’s not required for you to spend time there. You simply don’t belong in that place.
The book of Romans calls it your “sinful nature,” and it’s a part of us–we can choose to descend the dark steps, if we want to. And if we make the choice to keep sinning, we will dwell in a self-induced darkness.
Please believe me. I’m writing from my heart here.
Thankfully Jesus has made us a new creation, 2 Cor. 5:17. We are free to resist sin, and we no longer have to descend into that awful darkness. We’re free to say “No!,” and then say “Yes!” to God’s Holy Spirit. As a Christian, you now have a choice. It’s up to you to decide.
Will you choose righteousness, or will you decide to keep sinning?
O.K. A bit of a shift here.
“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.”
Galatians 5:22-23, ESV
The fruit of the Spirit needs to be growing in the living room. Not in the basement. Nothing grows in our basement, but darkness and mold and rotteness. Fruit is meant for others to see and experience and enjoy, it’s never hidden. And it shouldn’t be.
God’s fruit will never grow in the basement of your heart.
There’s no such thing as a fruit factory either. Rather there’s an orchard, a cultivating farmer, sun and rain, and maybe some of that “miracle grow” stuff. Patience and hope seem to be biggies as well.
Once again. Everything is based on what you want. And. You’ll need to decide this daily–sometimes hourly (?!).
Cooperating with the Holy Spirit, to grow His fruit is relatively easy. It’s also hard. You’ll need help when the “world, your flesh, and the devil” shows up to ruin your fruit harvest.
Satan hates, abhors, and detests the work of the Holy Spirit that’s growing in your heart. That’s not going to ever change. Don’t expect it to be otherwise. The fruit of the spirit is not “strive, force, push, fight, posture or making yourself look good.”
“So he returned home to his father. And while he was still a long way off, his father saw him coming. Filled with love and compassion, he ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him.”
Luke 15:20, NLT
There comes a time when the prodigal stands up–looks around, and then decides he can’t live this way anymore, it’s now time to return home. But he is no longer a ‘rich man’s son’, the pig-pen completely crushed that idea. He returns home, thinking that at least he can be a slave.
The devastated prodigal now understands.
And it’s that which gives him the propulsion to leave the pigs behind, and begin to somehow be received by his father. The trip is a long one, lots of walking, and yes, it’s hard–he’s far from where he’s supposed to be. He is tired, ragged and worn.
But please dear one, you must understand this about Jesus’ parable–the story isn’t so much about the prodigal son, rather I think that the focus should really be on the father. Jesus is teaching us that the love of God is a searching/seeking kind of love, and it cannot be shut down, or go away over time. Not ever.
You see, it is a 24/7/365 day kind of love.
Think of it like high intensity radar that sweeps over extreme distances, it is always looking, seeking, and it won’t be denied. The Father is seeking for His sons and daughters. He intends to find them. If we refuse we will continue to feed pigs, over and over, and we will starve.
The running love of the Father is strenuous and reaching.
The Father never sits on His backside, calmly watching from His throne. He reaches out and runs to us. God doesn’t sit. He is far from passive, rather He intensely yearns for His son. And God is fully into reclaiming His missing sons and daughters, just like in Jesus’ story.
He continues to search, even in when things get really bad.
Sin disfigures, a meth addict’s mug shots over time
The Father recognizes His prodigal son. It’s funny, but gross sin often has a way that disfigures a person’s countenance. Look at the wino or meth addict on the street.
The boy who abruptly left home is not the son who returns. There has been damage done. His face has changed. The Father understands this, and yes, it has been terribly hard and brutal. But that hardly matters.
I believe that this parable is the greatest of them all.
Jesus is explaining the deep love the Father has for prodigals like us. This story is so revealing, in it we see that the Father who is running. We must know this about Him. We must internalize it and understand the compassion He has. If we stall in our discipleship it’s because we don’t grip the awesome depth of His love.
There seems to be very few people who understand a running God.
The prodigal son is a timeless parable that transcends generations, holds within it a profound message of forgiveness, redemption, and unending love. As we delve deeper into the intricate layers of this tale, we discover a powerful metaphor that illuminates the human experience and the unwavering compassion of the Father.
As the prodigal hits bottom he realizes the futility of his choices and yearns to return to the forgiving embrace of his father. Overwhelmed by guilt and shame, he makes the long journey back to the home he once took for granted. Little does he know it, behind the scenes, his father has been watching, waiting, and hoping for his return.
And then, in a moment that encapsulates the beauty of unconditional love, the father catches sight of his boy from afar. Without a second thought, the father runs towards him with outstretched arms, his love insisting on forgiveness.
We see a love that surpasses human understanding.
The parable teaches us about the power of redemption and forgiveness, reminding us that no sin is too great to be forgiven, and no distance is too far for reconciliation. It emphasizes the importance of humbly seeking forgiveness and shows that love is always within reach.
Jesus teaches us a different kind of love. It’s not based on achievements or what society says. This love is given to everyone, regardless of their flaws, but in order to have it, they must leave the pigs behind. Sometimes that isn’t always easy.
This profound depth of His love often leaves us feeling totally doubtful or skeptical.
Our logical minds struggle to grasp how such boundless love can exist, especially when we witness the failings and flaws of human love. Yet, it is precisely because love transcends logic that it is so powerful. It operates on a different plane, bypassing our human limitations and revealing a deeper truth about the nature of God’s infinite compassion.
So, let us tell others about this love that Jesus spoke of.
Let’s begin to see that this compassion will transform lives, heal wounds, and bridge divides. For when we approach Jesus’ parable with humility and faith, we may just catch a glimpse of its power and appreciate its profound beauty in a new way.
If the Church can just keep up with our running God, we will finally understand who He really is. And if we only accept the love of the Father towards prodigals—no matter what the sin—it’s then we will finally understand the white-hot love of the Kingdom of Jesus.
And the Church will finally be doing His will in the world.
