Luke

The Bitter Taste of Jealousy and Unforgiveness

May 21, 2020 by David Noland Leave a Comment

“Now the older son was in the field, and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the servants and asked what these things meant. And he said to him, ‘Your brother has come and your father has killed the fattened calf, because he has received him back safe and sound.’ But he was angry and refused to go in. His father came out and entreated him, but he answered his father, ‘Look, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him.’ And he said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive. He was lost, and is found.'” (Luke 15:25-32)

Jealousy and bitterness are thieves. They rob you of peace, but more importantly they rob you of vision. They prevent you from seeing the blessings that you have in favor of the blessings of others, leading to a covetous heart that is forever unfulfilled. The desire for more rarely if ever wanes. In our materialistic world, we spend so much time keeping up with the Jones, that we fail to appreciate the gifts we have before us.

If you recall, in our parable, the older son who stayed home with the father to tend the estate, received his own inheritance at the same time as the younger son. In accordance with Jewish law, this meant that he would get twice as much as what the younger brother. However, from the context of the story, it is likely that the father reserved some of the inheritance (likely from the trust funds of both sons in order to be fair) for himself while he was still alive and in charge of the household. But the words of the father imply that the father and older son were in effect partners of the estate, with the older son having the same authority as the father to do with the estate as he pleased.

At the heart of the older son’s complaint is not so much an anger at his brother, but rather a bitterness towards the father for his celebration of the return of the brother and pity for himself in spite of the fact that he was well within his rights to take a goat from the herd and feast with his friends if he chose. It is as if the older son covets the attention of the father that is being lavished upon the younger son, even though the older son had his father’s attention for years while they worked together on the estate.

On the other hand it is our natural inclination to want to sit in judgement of those who squander the grace of God with licentious living, because by nature, we are selfish people. But it takes a supernatural vision to look beyond ourselves to celebrate the return of a believer who has taken God’s grace for granted.

The fifth chapter of James could actually stand as a commentary on the parable of the prodigal son, specifically this section of the story. James speaks of believers who have “fattened their hearts in a day of slaughter.” (James 5:5) He exhorts us to be like the “farmer who waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient about it, until it receives the early and late rains.” (James 5:7) He warns against having a judgmental spirit against one another within the family of faith (James 5:9). He reminds us of the “steadfastness of Job” and “how the Lord is compassionate and merciful.” (James 5:11)

He reminds us of Elijah who “was a man with a nature like ours” who prayed that it would not rain for three and a half years, and he didn’t. And then he prayed again and the heavens opened to flood the earth so that it would bear fruit in a dry, parched land. All of these reminders point us to James’ ultimate conclusion: “My brothers, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and someone brings him back, let him know that whoever brings back a sinner from his wandering will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins.” (James 5:19-20)

As believers, we are indeed responsible for one another and we are called to hold one another accountable, without a judgmental attitude. There is a fine line, but the difference is the heart of love that seeks restoration as opposed to condemnation. This often requires that we subjugate our own desires, feelings, and attitudes in favor of the desires, feelings, and attitude of our Father who longs to celebrate the return of His wayward children.

Corrie ten Boom was a former Nazi prisoner during World War II at Ravensbruck concentration camp, imprisoned for helping Jews escape the Nazis during the Holocaust. Her family’s story is beautifully told in her book (and the subsequent film by the same name) “The Hiding Place”. Near the end of the war, she was released from the prison due to an apparent “clerical error” one day before all women her age were sent to the gas chamber to die.

A few years after her release, as she traveled the world telling others her story of hope in the midst of the most horrific hell, a lone man approached her. She immediately recognized the man as one who stripped her and her sister down upon their arrival at Ravensbruck. Her heart was seized with bitterness and anger at that moment and she would have every right to walk away from him except for this bit of testimony. The former Nazi guard professed his newfound faith to her, confessed the sin he had inflicted upon her and her fellow prisoners, and pleaded with her for her forgiveness.

In Corrie’s words:

“Those who were able to forgive their former enemies were able also to return to the outside world and rebuild their lives, no matter what the physical scars. Those who nursed their bitterness remained invalids. It was as simple and as horrible as that. And still I stood there with the coldness clutching my heart. But forgiveness is not an emotion–I knew that too. Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function regardless of the temperature of the heart.”
https://www.guideposts.org/better-living/positive-living/guideposts-classics-corrie-ten-boom-on-forgiveness

Her words to the former guard: “I forgive you, brother! With all my heart!”

It is my prayer that we are more like Corrie, and less like the older brother of the prodigal, as we seek to restore and reconcile God’s kingdom in our broken and shattered world. For God knows we all need a cause for celebration!

The Father’s Compassion

May 20, 2020 by David Noland Leave a Comment

“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! I will arise and go to my father, I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.’ 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. 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.’ 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. And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.” And they began to celebrate.” (Luke 15:17-24)

Have you ever lost something of great value only to find it again later? Do you recall the joy you experienced when you found it again? I recall when I still played baseball that I was preparing for a game one day and I couldn’t find my glove. It was a critical piece of equipment that would determine if I would even be allowed to play that day. Sure, I could probably have borrowed a glove from someone else, but it wouldn’t have been the same because it was my glove. It was familiar and it fit my hand. It had my name on it. And it had been given to me by my grandfather, so there was a sense of sentimentality attached to that glove as well. And at the last minute, I found it, lying underneath the edge of my bed. I yelped with joy and then ran to head off to join my teammates to play the game.

The parable of the prodigal son is prefaced by two other parables of an owner who has lost a prized possession. One was the story of a man with 100 sheep, who lost one. He left the 99 other sheep to find the one that wandered off. And when he found the lost sheep, he rejoiced and carried it home and throws a party. (Luke 15:3-7) The second parable is one of a woman who lost one of 10 silver coins. She light a lamp, cleaned the entire house, until she found it. And when she found it, she threw a party – rejoicing. (Luke 15:8-10) How much more so was the rejoicing of the father over the return of his lost son!

The son had “come to his senses” and realized that those in his father’s house were well fed. So he thought to himself, since I treated my father as if he were dead by demanding my inheritance while he was still alive, then perhaps he thinks of me as dead to him and no longer his son. Yet the reaction of the father says exactly and entirely the opposite.

The father saw his son while he was still a long way off and he ran. He couldn’t wait to embrace his son. Still the patriarch of his household, he ordered his servants to clothe him and to feed him and to rejoice with him over the return of this lost son. His son. In the father’s mind, his son’s broken fellowship evoked fear that his son had died. Now with the fellowship restored, the truth that his son was indeed still alive was realized. His lost son was now found. And he rejoiced along with all of his servants.

How often are we like the son thinking that if we just return and serve, we can re-earn the Father’s mercy? How much more joyous should we be when we return and discover that the Father still calls us His child? As all three of these stories testify: proximity does not dictate possession. The lost sheep still belonged to the shepherd. The lost coin still belonged to the woman. And the lost son was still the child of the Father.

Three other items to point out about the father’s response to his son’s return and the parallel to the Father’s expectation of us, the church:

“Bring QUICKLY the best robe and put it on him and put a ring on his hand.” – Without hesitation, cover the shame of his filth from lying in the pigpen. In the same way, forgive the wayward brother or sister who has returned to the family and welcome them home.
“…and put shoes on his feet.” – Make it easier to for him to walk upon the rocky road of redemption, even if his feet are still covered in mud. In the same way, have mercy upon the wayward brother and sister who has returned to the family and help them to walk anew in the light of mercy.
“bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate.” – Feed him so that he can renew his strength. In the same way, feed the wayward brother or sister who has returned upon the Word of God in a manner that will renew their strength in the Word, as opposed to offering words of judgement.

Perhaps you are still “sleeping in the pigpen” wondering if the Father will welcome you home. The truth is, the Father’s eyes are forever looking down the road anxiously waiting for you to “come to your senses.” He will run to you, embrace you, and still call you His child. He’s waiting for an excuse to throw a party to celebrate your return. And what more cause for celebration is the return of a child long left for dead to the world. You are more valuable than a lost sheep, a lost coin, or a lost baseball mitt. You are a child of the Father, and that makes all the difference in the world.

Life in the Pig Pen

May 19, 2020 by David Noland Leave a Comment

And he said, “There was a man who had two sons. And the younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of property that is coming to me.’ And he divided his property between them. Not many days later, the younger son gathered all he had and took a journey into a far country, and there he squandered his property in reckless living. And when he had spent everything, a severe famine arose in the country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed pigs. And he was longing to be fed with the pods that the pigs ate, and no one gave him anything.” (Luke 15:11-16)

I’ve always thought the “parable of the prodigal son” was misnamed because the term “prodigal” is never actually used in the parable until I looked up the history of the word. According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, the term originated with this story and is rooted in the Latin word “prodigalis” meaning “wasteful.” Interestingly, the root term is also where we get the word “prodigious”, meaning “impressively great in extent, size, or degree.” So the implication is that the term “prodigal” references one who is exceedingly wasteful to an impressive degree. So this actually gives more context and understanding to the accepted title of this parable (even though the title itself is never given in the Scripture) because it uses a term that was familiar to the readers of the Latin Vulgate when the term was formulated.

Looking at the first portion of the parable, we can now extrapolate some more details about the family that was presented.

The family was indeed very rich, but the ownership of the family fortune was still with the living father/patriarch of the family.
Patriarchial inheritance was a privilege of the wealthy since the poor of the day likely did not have enough property to warrant legal familial succession.

Inheritance is reserved for after the death of the patriarch. To demand your share of the inheritance before the death of the father is to essentially treat the father as if he is already dead. This also required that the whole of the estate be divided in accordance with inheritance law, with the oldest son receiving a double portion of the property. As a result, the oldest son would obtain 66% of the property, while the youngest would only receive 33% of the property. If there was an adopted child in the family, they would have also been entitled to a double portion under Jewish law, but that exceeds the scope of this parable.

Now that the youngest son has his premature inheritance, he decides to abandon his home and his country. He proceeds to lavishly (and foolishly) spend and waste his entire inheritance until he had nothing in reserve. And suddenly, economic collapse befalls his new homeland and he is forced to resort to literally selling himself into slavery to a pig farmer. Not only has he driven himself to this low point of self-imposed slavery, but it’s slavery of the worst kind in the minds of the Jewish establishment of the day – feeding ritually unclean omnivorous scavenger pigs.

One thing we’ve learned recently is that pigs can be aggressively territorial. They stink and they’re messy. However they are amazingly intelligent, but they use their intelligence to satisfy their own selfish appetites. Sure, they may even be cute – for a time. But they demand constant attention and they can be bullies if they don’t get their way.

And that’s not even the worst of it. In the midst of all of this turmoil, the son was now alone. What friends he was spending his money on had abandoned him. Even his own employer/slave master wouldn’t feed him. He was physically, spiritually, and now emotionally isolated. And this pattern holds true even for us today.

We as believers tend to become so discontent with the grace that God has given us that we treat Him as dead and still in the tomb, demanding His gifts for our own edification. And we take His grace so for granted that we isolate ourselves from the remainder of our spiritual family and decide we don’t need the fellowship of the body of Christ. Ultimately, our spiritual lives dry up and the gifts no longer have value and the only thing we hunger for is the scraps that even the pigs won’t eat.

I can testify that my own life traveled down this road on different occasions as I allowed arrogance and discontent to color my vision of the Father. I’ve physically isolated myself from the church out of spirit of selfishness. This led to me journeying for years in a dry spiritual wilderness, thirsting for something of value to quench the burning in my soul. Too ashamed to return to the fellowship, I tried filling that thirst with all manner of other less than satisfying pursuits – work, alcohol, distractions, etc. But it all left me feeling empty, dry, barren, and alone.

We are made to live in relationship with one another. As believers, we are designed to be in relationship within the body of Christ – to build one another up for the advancement of God’s Kingdom, rather than the detriment of His family. All too often, however, we take His grace for granted and choose to live life on our own terms. Inevitably, as a result, we end up face down in the mud begging for scraps from the pig trough instead of enjoying the feast at the Father’s table.

But as long as we have breath, it is never too late to come to our senses and return to the home of the Father. It requires setting aside our pride and being willing to accept the consequences, come what may. But His grace is worth it and life within His house is far better than life in the pigpen.