Who is the Prodigal?

This past week, I was asked to sing in a church service. The song that I ended up singing was called "Come As You Are". In it, the song refers to "prodigal daughters and sons". This isn't a revolutionary idea to put into a song, and it's a pretty familiar passage of Scripture so it wasn't a groundbreaking song. I spent the longest time misunderstanding something, though. I always thought that prodigal meant lost or wayward. It turns out that prodigal means something completely different. It actually means wasteful. I know that the Bible never actually uses the word prodigal, but it's worth noting because this word is tied closely to the parable of the lost son.
I've known what that word meant for quite some time, but as I was singing this song one morning to get ready God connected the dots in my brain in a way that I never had before. The fact is I had all of the information and was either unwilling or unable to put it all together. I always viewed this song as a call for sinners to come to repentance. I never applied this song to me. That's because I missed an important element of the lost son parable. I tend to focus on the aspect of the son being lost so much that I fail to apply it to my own life on a regular basis. At some level I understand and accept that my sin put me in a far country and that only the grace of God has allowed me to come home. But that's history - I mean, God had redeemed me and called me his own. I'm clearly not the prodigal son that this parable speaks about. Because of that, I quit listening to what the story (and the song) was speaking to me.
As I was driving in the car, God broke me. I understood what was being said to me. The son wasn't called prodigal because he went to a far country. He was prodigal simply for leaving the Father's house. The far country wasn't the problem. The problem was the son's reckless use of what was given to him by his father. I like to say things like "I haven't been a very good steward" because it minimizes and softens what I'm really doing. The plain truth is that I have been wasteful. God has poured into me and I have, in many cases, let it spill onto the floor. How many wasted blessings litter my life? Blessings God intended for my good, for my deliverance. There are too many to count. It's an embarrassment just to consider it.
Still, I serve a faithful God. In spite of my prodigal status, my Father still runs to me when I return home. Not for a moment have I deserved to be called his son. But that doesn't matter one bit. My standing in his family is unmerited. Because I didn't earn it, nobody can point out to the Father why I shouldn't have it. My membership in the family is based entirely on my Father's decision to adopt me. I'm in his family simply because he says I am. There is no depth I will find that will disqualify me. "How great is the love the father has lavished upon us, that we should be called sons of God" I love that word "lavished". In spite of all I've done, my Father's arms are open wide to me. His love for me is unmeasurable. It defies description or understanding.
And I love it.
This prodigal son has a prodigal father.

What It's All About

      For the last several weeks, I have kept coming back to the same thing over and over again.  Two things have really spurred me to keep looking at it.  The first is that I have been studying the Sermon on the Mount for the last several weeks.  Nothing fancy, just reading it over and over and soaking it up.  I'll say this up front - it's a tough word to hear sometimes.  Matthew 5 has affected me in a range of ways these past two months.  Sometimes it has been a slap in the face, sometimes a kick in the tail, sometimes a breath of fresh air.  The other thing is this blog entry. 
     Here's the thing.  God didn't send his Son for me to sleepwalk through life and go through the motions, claiming a faith that I don't demonstrate.  To me (not that I'm equating a blog to the Bible) they both spoke different aspects of the same thing.  Jesus speaks so plainly about what I need to do.  It's my attitude of self-preservation that makes it difficult.  Here's where the rubber meets the road.  You can't read Matthew 5 and walk away without making a decision.  Either Jesus meant what he said, or he didn't.  There's not really any other choice.  We (I) try to avoid the fact that it's that black and white, but what's the use?  Either his words are meant to apply to me, or they aren't.  It's tempting to pick and choose and feed on an ala carte Gospel - one that I feel satisfies my needs.  But who am I to tell Jesus what I need? 
     Does Jesus really mean that my anger looks the same in God's eyes as an actual homicide?  I must not think that, because I sure don't act like it.  But I can't say I believe the Bible and then conveniently ignore that part.  Or take verses 29 and 30.  It's the part where Jesus talks about poking out eyes and cutting off hands.  Our first impulse is to back away from this.  Clearly Jesus couldn't have meant it like that.  Does Jesus really want me to disfigure myself?  I think that's the wrong question.  The underlying question, the question implied by this offensive passage is this - How far am I willing to go?  What sacrifice would I make?  What price would I pay?  The first thing is that Jesus is speaking to every one of us.  The measuring stick is only "will I obey the call?"  Everything else is window dressing.  Either I accept the call of Jesus and follow him or I reject it and walk away.  This is an all or nothing proposition.
     The second thing, Steven Furtick's blog, challenged me to a different aspect of this same truth.  Why did Jesus climb a mountainside before he spoke a word?  Why did he give such a stark call once they all got there?  I think this hits it on the head.  Jesus doesn't have time for or interest in pretenders.  I know that grace covers all of our sins and his blood was shed for everyone, so I'm not trying to minimize what the power of God can do.  We are called to be more like Jesus every day.  Jesus was on this earth to lauch his Father's kingdom.  Not a program or an agenda.  He was establishing a kingdom.  He needs me to be genuine.  Not do I appear to be following, but am I really following?  Not do people around me see my obedience, but am I actually obeying?  Am I the genuine article or a cheap imitation?  It's the same question - how far am I willing to go?  What sacrifice would I make?  What price would I pay?  What do I sacrifice by trying to have my own way?
    
    

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The Truth

Everybody says they want the truth.  We hold up the truth as a perfect ideal.  I know in class one of the things I cannot stand is dishonesty.  I've been very clear with my kids about this.  They have been told, in no uncertain terms, that lying to me is #1 on the list of bad things that can happen in class.  I know plenty of other people who feel the same way.  I don't know if it's human nature or a social thing or something else.  We despise anything that isn't the truth.

Well, that's what we say.  The fact in many cases is this...we despise dishonesty in other people.  Most of us don't take the time to examine ourselves or have a trusted friend help us with that.  Our first lie is that we don't need it.  We love to sniff out other people's lies, but somehow our own escape detection.  The fact is that I am incredibly dishonest with myself.  I tell myself that my devotional/prayer time is sufficient, that seeing this or saying that won't affect me, that the thing I hear in church is a good idea but not a pressing concern, and a host of other lies anytime I am made to be uncomfortable.

The end result is that this affects what I believe.  Do I really believe the things that I say I do?  There's only one way to tell.  If I don't do it, then I don't believe it.  I can't count the number of times I've witnessed this truth in my students.  It's much easier to count the number of times I've admitted it in my own life.  Jesus' condemnation of the Pharisees didn't hinge on their results.  They would appear to us today to be model Christians.  He didn't criticize the appearance of their faith.  He told them that their heart on the inside didn't match their actions and words on the outside.  He called into question their motivation.  He was just as concerned, if not more concerned, about why they were praying, fasting and tithing as he was that these thing were actually happening.  Too often we use this as a "get out of jail free" card.  Since I will be judged on the motivation behind my actions, I can tell myself and anyone who challenges me that my motives are pure and God-centered.  That's the trump card.  You can't beat that.  Nobody can accurately judge my motives.  God alone is capable of that and He will do that.  If I really believe He'll judge my motives, I need to be honest with myself about what those motives are.

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Psychotic Break?

I've been reading over some of these posts and I've come to a realization.  I think I've been hitting myself in the head long enough.  Why would anyone read what I write and walk away feeling like being a Christian is something that they want to do.  Every post seems to end with some version of "and here's why I'm terrible at being a Christian."  I think that I'm done with that.  I am, probably for the first time in my life, getting my head around what grace is and why it matters.  I'm not going to say that I can go do whatever I want and it's all good.  I'm not going to pretend that the ideas of righteousness and holiness don't really apply because God knows my heart and understands.  I've had a faith crisis of sorts over the last few months and I feel like I'm on the other side of it now.  I can say that I am tragically and fundamentally flawed, but God's grace covers that.  As long as I am reaching for the cross, it will sustain me.  Jesus didn't come to earth and carry my sins so that I could wring my hands every day wondering how it's all going to work out.  What do I have need of?  I have a Savior and he works on my behalf.  Is there something more that I need that I'm missing?

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Practically Something

Do you ever have days that feel like you're sleepwalking? I have a lot of those lately. I think I'm suffering from discontent. Strangely enough, it's not about my life. I like my life. I have a good job, wonderful family, house to live in, money to pay all of the bills. It's a charmed life, really. So what's the problem? The problem is that I have this nagging feeling that there is something more. Jesus promised this fantastic life. He didn't give me a doctrine, or a 5 step plan or a presentation. What he gave me was hope. In fact, that's what he gave everyone. Not a program to join, but a kingdom to be part of. The promise of this kingdom is that I could have a full, vibrant life.
The reality is that all too often, I act too much like Jesus came to earth to meet my needs, make sure that my wants are satisfied. The truth is that on Sunday I act like a Christian and say and do all the things I'm supposed to. Would the people around me on Monday through Saturday say the same thing about me? Too many Christians are that in name only and would be more correctly called Practical Atheists or Practical Agnostics. Shouldn't what we say and do match what we say we believe? Is heaven really the home we're headed for? Some of us believe it like we believe in fairy tales. Others of us believe it because it makes us feel secure, like an insurance policy. Still others have this sense of obligation about it. We don't really feel any heavenward pull on our lives, but we know that we're supposed to so we just commit to it and numb ourselves to the fact that there is no life in our life.
Maybe the problem is that I like my life too much. To answer Jesus' call could mean that my life become about something other than the life that I'm attempting to create for myself. I'm beginning to understand more than I ever have Paul's comlaint in Romans. I know what I'm supposed to do and I want to do it, but not all of me does. Part of me does the very thing that the rest of me doesn't want to. Can anyone save me from me?
The answer is yes. This is the essence of the Gospel. The Gospel is good news. Here's the good news. There is someone who can save me from me. Someone who calls me to a greater life than the one that I could create for myself. What will we do? Will we trust him to do what he says or will we continue to hedge our bets and "believe" the Bible, just in case

Name Brand

You can't see it, but I had this whole big piece about the election and what I think and how it related to Christians and church. You'll have to trust me that it was an impressive piece of work. Just imagine all of the best things you've read and pretend I wrote those in there. I deleted the whole thing because it degenerated into nonsense.
Having said that, I spent a lot of time after the election thinking about what I'd seen and heard. Here's the thing that kind of stuck out to me. All throughout the campaign, there was an effort by both sides to "brand" themselves and the other candidates. Countless dollars were spent to hang labels on some people and remove labels placed there by others. It's no different than detergent, cereal or aluminum foil. Companies go to great lengths to attach labels to their own and their competition's products and then they brand by getting you to associate their name with a particular label, so that we view Bounty as durable and Quaker as healthy. In this case, parties tried to brand their people as insiders, outsiders, agents of change, savvy, patriotic, etc.

The only reason I mention this is because we, as Christians, have a brand as well. Additionally, people that disagree with us have taken great effort to attach other labels. We've been accomodating enough to allow the "Christian" label to mean a variety of things, ranging from compassionate to hateful. What is the Christian brand supposed to stand for? Put another way, how could a person recognize a Christian? It's not as much as I thought. According to 1 John, the ideal of the brand is that we should be full of truth, resistant to sin and guided by love. Would we use those 3 things to describe ourselves? If not, why wouldn't we? Equally as important is whether or not those around us would use those 3 things to describe us. If those are the things a Christian should show, why isn't it evident?

Sanctified?

I'm sitting in class on Wednesday night. As you might expect, the class centered on Satanism and related themes. It wouldn't be the week of Halloween without it. As we were talking about this, someone said something that floored me. Essentially, his point was this - these people that seem to be so diametrically opposed to what we believe have to go through a sanctification process like we do. As the words are being said, my first impulse was to bristle at the choice of words because it seems wrong to say that an active Satanist would be considered sanctified. He went on to explain that these people must wake up every morning, die to themselves and make an active choice to do all the requisiste things: dress appropriately, decide how to communicate their faith clearly and then act accordingly. That should sound pretty familiar. Here's the kicker...they do a better job of "sanctifying" themselves better than we do. There is usually very little ambiguity surrounding them.
I, by comparison, appear lukewarm and pliable. How can I be convinced that I'm right about what I believe and someone whose beliefs are the polar opposite of mine appears to be easily more committed than I am? Is the truth in me? Why do I say that? Is it because it's true or because it's convenient to believe? Is my faith clear to those around me or do I just say that I'm "living out my faith" because believing that relieves me of the responsibility to act out directly what I say that I believe.