Without a doubt, one of Jesus’ best known and most beloved parables is “The Prodigal Son”—and perhaps the reason that it resonates with so many of us is because we can all relate to the experience of losing our way.
We start following our own agenda, for example, and the next thing we know, we have wandered off the path that God prepared. We resolve to spend a few moments each day in prayer, but become easily distracted and our minds wander off to other concerns and fancies. We decide to devote more time to the family, or to caring for ourselves, but the pressures of work overwhelm us, and like the prodigal himself, we soon find ourselves squandering valuable resources on things that, ultimately, are unimportant and unrewarding.
Simply put, one reason that we so strongly identify with this wayward son is because, on some level, we have all been there. However, what immediately strikes me about the prodigal’s desire to return home is that his motives aren’t exactly 100% pure. He doesn’t start feeling badly because of how hurtful and insulting he has been toward his father. He doesn’t start feeling badly because of how wasteful and irresponsible he has behaved. He starts feeling badly because he is … hungry!
“How many of my father’s servants have food enough to spare,” he says to himself, “and here I am, starving to death!”
Notice that there’s no indication in the parable that the prodigal suddenly developed this newfound respect or appreciation for dear old dad. He is not coming home out of love. He is not coming home out of regret. He is coming home out of necessity. This is a survival technique, pure and simple.
But then again, maybe that’s the point. The father is so anxious to welcome back his lost son that, frankly, he doesn’t care what prompted the boy to return. No explanation is required. Indeed, if you read the story closely, the prodigal doesn’t even get a chance to finish his carefully rehearsed apology—so a full-blown confession of sin doesn’t seem to be required either. The only thing that matters is that the boy is home again, safe and sound. “My son was dead and is alive,” exclaims the father, “he was lost and now is found!”
I don’t know about you, but I find this to be a most encouraging truth—that God does not require a 100% pure heart before reaching out to embrace us. Even if we return only because following our own agenda did not produce happiness, God will still take us back. Even if we return only because our sinful desires provided little satisfaction, God will still receive us. Even if we return for no greater reason than we finally concluded that we could not make it all on our own, God will still be there with opened arms, running out to greet us.
The bottom line is that God will be glad—overjoyed, in fact—just to see us; and that God stands ready to give us everything we could possibly want, or need, just for coming home again!
We start following our own agenda, for example, and the next thing we know, we have wandered off the path that God prepared. We resolve to spend a few moments each day in prayer, but become easily distracted and our minds wander off to other concerns and fancies. We decide to devote more time to the family, or to caring for ourselves, but the pressures of work overwhelm us, and like the prodigal himself, we soon find ourselves squandering valuable resources on things that, ultimately, are unimportant and unrewarding.
Simply put, one reason that we so strongly identify with this wayward son is because, on some level, we have all been there. However, what immediately strikes me about the prodigal’s desire to return home is that his motives aren’t exactly 100% pure. He doesn’t start feeling badly because of how hurtful and insulting he has been toward his father. He doesn’t start feeling badly because of how wasteful and irresponsible he has behaved. He starts feeling badly because he is … hungry!
“How many of my father’s servants have food enough to spare,” he says to himself, “and here I am, starving to death!”
Notice that there’s no indication in the parable that the prodigal suddenly developed this newfound respect or appreciation for dear old dad. He is not coming home out of love. He is not coming home out of regret. He is coming home out of necessity. This is a survival technique, pure and simple.
But then again, maybe that’s the point. The father is so anxious to welcome back his lost son that, frankly, he doesn’t care what prompted the boy to return. No explanation is required. Indeed, if you read the story closely, the prodigal doesn’t even get a chance to finish his carefully rehearsed apology—so a full-blown confession of sin doesn’t seem to be required either. The only thing that matters is that the boy is home again, safe and sound. “My son was dead and is alive,” exclaims the father, “he was lost and now is found!”
I don’t know about you, but I find this to be a most encouraging truth—that God does not require a 100% pure heart before reaching out to embrace us. Even if we return only because following our own agenda did not produce happiness, God will still take us back. Even if we return only because our sinful desires provided little satisfaction, God will still receive us. Even if we return for no greater reason than we finally concluded that we could not make it all on our own, God will still be there with opened arms, running out to greet us.
The bottom line is that God will be glad—overjoyed, in fact—just to see us; and that God stands ready to give us everything we could possibly want, or need, just for coming home again!
posted by Dr. Robert Crilley at
3:48 PM
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3 comments
