Category: repentance

Rembrandt’s Prodigal Son

Rembrandt-The_return_of_the_prodigal_son
Rembrandt, “The Return of the Prodigal Son,” c. 1661

17 “But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! 18 I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”’ 20 And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. 21 And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22 But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. 23 And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. 24 For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to celebrate.

Luke 15:17-24, ESV

Two hundred and eighty-nine words– these describe the life of every man, woman, and child who has ever lived. These 289 words reveal to us a God who loves far too much, way too easy. Perhaps we sort of expect that he will ‘appropriately’ punish his son– at least put him on probation at least. It only makes sense. But we find that is legalism talking.

“Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.” 

Many of us have lived as prodigals, and we have spent our inheritance like ‘drunken sailors.’ We really have nothing at all to show for it. The prodigal, completely destitute, takes the only work he can find. (Imagine a good Jewish boy feeding hogs.)

He is so far gone that he starts inspecting the filthy slop buckets for something to eat.

Many of us will understand his despair. Often there comes to us a crystalline moment of simple awareness. The prodigal, sin-crusted and impoverished, still has a lingering memory of the Father’s house.

The servants there had far more than him right now. Sometimes I wonder if in our captivity, we instinctively want to go home, if only in our minds, to be a servant there.

The Father has dreamed of this precise moment.

The parable says, “He saw him–felt compassion–ran out to him–embraced him–and kissed him.” The Father is a whirlwind of agape love. I’ve read the Parable of the Prodigal Son a hundred times or more. It never loses its punch. I simply want to bring some observations: 

  • We see that his father receives him with a tender gesture. His hands seem to suggest mothering and fathering at once; the left appears larger and more masculine, set on the son’s shoulder, while the right is softer and more receptive in gesture.
  • The son’s head is downy, almost like a newborn’s. We must enter the kingdom like little children. 
  • The Prodigal Son seems to be protected by his father. He snuggles near the Father’s breast. It’s love that holds him there.
  • Consider his sandals. It has taken a long time for him to come home. 
  • Standing at the right is the prodigal son’s older brother, who crosses his hands in stoic judgment; we read in the parable that he objects to the father’s compassion for his brother.
  • We see his mother in the background in the painting, and a seated steward or counselor. One stands in profound joy, the other in sits in stunned perplexity.

But Rembrandt had painted the Prodigal once before, when he was considerably younger. And it is a very good painting. The prodigal is happy and gay; there is absolutely no indication of the consequences of sin.

The Prodigal Son in the Brothel, 1635

He’s a charming young man at the height of his popularity, and we see him at a happy party. He is spending the inheritance of his father.

But Rembrandt chooses at the very end of his life to re-paint it to reflect reality.

This is one of the last paintings he will do, and it is the Prodigal Son–destitute and repenting. I can only imagine; the years have taken a toll and he doesn’t really feel his first painting is enough. He wants to paint what is true.

He now is painting our spiritual condition.

We are given a work that some critics call as the greatest painting ever completed. The painting is now in St. Petersburg, Russia. It is seldom seen by visitors. It is a clear echo of the grace of God for fallen men and women. Like the father in the painting, He’s ready to forgive every sin saturated son and daughter.

The Father’s Prodigal

bry-signat (1)

 

From Vessel to Vessel

amphora_on_stand

“Moab has been at ease from his youth, and he has settled on his lees, and has not been emptied from vessel to vessel, neither has he gone into captivity: therefore his taste remained in him, and his scent is not changed.”

Jeremiah 48:11, ESV

The expression, “emptied from vessel to vessel” is a figure that speaks of wine making. It relates to a method used to produce a well-refined wine, which is poured into a vessel and allowed to stand for a certain length of time. Then it is poured into another vessel.

Each time this is done, there is a settling of the dregs and sediment which remain in the container, as the wine-maker carefully pours the liquid into another vessel. This process is repeated until the wine is perfectly refined and yields a freshness of fragrance and color that is pleasing to the maker.

This result will not occur if the wine had been allowed to stay in only one vessel. Instead, it would have “settled upon its lees” and become scented with the essence of the dregs. Because the intention of the Lord is to bring us to spiritual maturity, we also are carefully poured from vessel to vessel.

We’re being poured from one dealing to another.

As we yield to His purpose, the Holy Spirit will see to it that we are brought, step upon step (vessel by vessel), into spiritual growth and maturity. With our wills yielded, and our spirits mellowed, we shall then become “wine, well refined.”

Once we understand what we are by nature, we realize that no natural power could carry out so massive of  an undertaking. If ever this is to be accomplished, the power must come from a source other than ourselves. Thus, the Lord simply asks us to become willing, yielded, broken material upon which to work, and He will furnish the means and power for our transformation.

The Lord does not say the vessels are all alike.

That would spoil the teaching given in this figure. Rather, the vessels are quite different, scarcely two being alike. Let’s consider a few in order to enlarge our understanding.

The first is a vessel made of tinted glass.

As the wine is emptied within, it assumes a color that results from the hue of the glass. This is the vessel of misunderstanding. People then judge the wine as being “off-color.” An endless course of reasons ensues as to the cause of its being thus.

The “wine” is aware of these remarks, and as a result has a difficult time remaining still and submitted, so the sediment might settle and cling to the sides and bottom of the vessel. All this keeps the wine in a disturbed state, until finally it discovers that it is really what it should be at this time of its development, since only the glass (dealing) is tinted. Thus there is a delay and a longer time is needed to produce clear wine.

The Maker waits for it to become settled and then carefully pours it into another vessel. All that is left behind are a few dregs of self-importance and some shreds of the self-life.

There is the vessel of being in the public eye.

As the wine is poured out, it beholds the new vessel, a large but shallow receptacle, gray and ugly. At first there is a shrinking, for the vessel seems so unusual, and so absolutely unlike any into which it had been before emptied. As the wine is poured, it is so wide that it fills the entire open vessel. This is the vessel of “public gaze.” It is where the Lord pours us when we are to experience ‘weakness.’

The wine cannot gather itself up to appear in any other shape. It must spread out flat and be open to public judgment and criticism. The snide remarks hinder the wine from becoming quiet, yielded, and silent. But as it realizes that this is a necessary step in its perfection, it becomes settled and is again poured out. Clinging to the sides of the ugly, gray vessel are the dregs of pride and self-preservation, but added to the wine is a richer hue.

There is the vessel of isolation.

The next vessel is made of clay. It is tall with a long narrow neck, and is not transparent. Thus, it reflects no light. As the wine is poured, it has difficulty getting adjusted, owing to the darkness and a fear as to the certainty that it belongs there. But at last it yields and fills the vessel in ‘quietness.’

Here it stands for a long period of time, in shadow and darkness. At times, the wine faintly hears the music and delightful cries of those without who are in the light, but the clay allows no participation, nor affinity of satisfaction. The wine can only remember the light it had found in former days, and simply trust that it will shine again.

There’a another trial of a dark and bitter trial.

This is the vessel of long, dark trial; the kind in which the Lord leaves us alone in order to prove us, even in shadow and darkness. But it works wonders in the wine. As it is again poured forth, it gleams with the light of faith, tried and tested. Left behind are the dregs of impatience, questioning, and unbelief.

There is the vessel of misunderstanding.

Again the wine is poured into a new vessel, which is unusual in size and unique in design. It has many bulges and ridges. Therefore, the wine has a difficult time finding its way into the many bulges, odd nooks, and corners. Those who watch, immediately conclude that the wine is in the wrong vessel, and that it was never called to go into such a receptacle. Thus, it appears to others that the wine’s leading and witness is wrong. This is the vessel of misunderstanding.

The Lord’s ways are not our ways; thus, His ways are often incomprehensible. The Lord seldom explains to others the leadings which He lays upon those who are His own. It is certainly death to our flesh to be led into situations that produce criticism from others, and then not be able to satisfy their reasoning’s. Thus, the wine finds no pleasure in this vessel, but it had been poured and must now fill the vessel.

“The same Jesus who turned water into wine can transform your home, your life, your family, and your future. He is still in the miracle-working business, and His business is the business of transformation.”

     Adrian Rogers

Hiding Our Wounds

Brennan Manning Quote
“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house.”

Matthew 5:14-15, ESV

Overall, I think this Manning quote is a great observation. We, the torn and wounded, often try to hide, secluding ourselves in the “Island of Misfit Toys.” (Got to love those 60s Christmas cartoons.) We pretty much accept our lot as damaged merchandise.

Maybe we choose to isolate ourselves more than we want to admit. Could that be what we do? Are we still embarrassed and ashamed by all that we’ve done? That’s quite possible.

This may come as a shock, but the Church doesn’t need any more gifted people.

But it does need broken people who understand ‘the giftedness of the flawed.” When we conceal, we diminish the Church by our absence. We can ostracize ourselves, through a self imposed shame— but the Church will suffer. We need to show them that everyone can be healed, even screwy ‘fruit-cakes’ like us.

I recently had the privilege of speaking to a class of young Bible college students.

My subject was decidedly not on being successful, but on being a failure. Whole courses are geared toward ministerial success– but where are the ones for failure? I think that it just might be even more important, in the long run.

No human effort is going to erase your past.

I have tried and it can’t be done. I have blitzed my brains on drugs and booze, but I still remember the people I’ve hurt. (And I pray for them.) There really isn’t a cure for the evil we have done. I believe in forgiveness. And I hold to the idea that are sins are never to be a subject of  guilty accusation–

“He will again have compassion on us;
    he will tread our iniquities underfoot.
You will cast all our sins
    into the depths of the sea.”

Micah 7:19

Our dark iniquity is put in a very deep place. But there are the memories of an unkind word, or a sad and dark foolishness that we must learn to live with. There will be many regrets, and we face the terrible consequences of our sins, but it’s enough to know that all is under the blood of Jesus.

We are indeed forgiven. Completely.

We are now to live as forgiven sinners, yet precious in God’s eyes. We discover that although the Father has no favorites among His children, but He does have intimates. We are to live the rest of our lives for His glory, exploring that intimacy.

“Leave the broken, irreversible past in God’s hands, and step out into the invincible future with Him.”

  Oswald Chambers

He Despises Our Hypocrisy

 

“This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me.”

Matthew 15:8, NASB

“Of all bad men, religious bad men are the worst.”  C.S. Lewis

This singular verse is set in a series of other verses– it certainly does not stand alone.  When these come together, we realize how much the Holy Spirit despises hypocrisy. He hates it, I suppose, because of the destructiveness wreaked on our spirits.

A father or mother may feel a hatred at the dealers who sell the drugs to their child. It’s not that they have any special animosity toward the pusher, but rather, they love their son so much. They will do whatever it takes to protect him.

I really think this is what Jesus feels when it comes to the purveyors of religious legalism, or hypocrisy. He burns with a holy hatred against this particular form of darkness. His vehemence seems reserved, not for sin so much as these lies of “religious pretending”. His repeated “roughness” has to be considered– why?

This should jar us into what is real, and all that is not. The word for hypocrite is “two-faced”. It was used in the Greek theaters for the masks worn by the actors. They would wear whatever the script called for. The audience never knew what was real, and what was only theatrical props.

With our lips (speech) we will honor God. We’ll only speak good things, and words (and actions) become an issue of being appropriate. We put on the particular mask of the moment, and enter the theater. Our hearts are hardly touched, and the deepest part of us becomes inoculated to the real presence of God.

The deep hatred Jesus has is due to the enormity of this sin. It is spirituality gone bad. Twisted and confused, with the shallow veneer of “respectability”. It seems to work for many of us. When our discipleship gets used to wearing masks, things can get very religious.

One last thought. Ships and boats often have to go into dry dock to be scraped clean. Weeds and barnacles can actually cover the hulls; they can severely impede the ships function. Periodic inspection is needed. Jesus wants us to be truly clean.

“Beware of no man more than of yourself; we carry our worst enemies within us.”

Charles Spurgeon