A Father's Love

By: Robert Heerspink

Scripture Reading: Luke 15:11- 31

June 10th, 2007

RELATIONSHIPS ON THE ROCKS

Have you ever failed to cultivate a friendship? You know how it goes. Life gets busy, and you have a hard time juggling all your people connections. And there is this old friend that you haven’t seen in some time. To keep life breathed in the relationship, you needed to make a phone call, drop by the house—do anything! But you’ve procrastinated. It’s gone on so long now, that you’re embarrassed to pick up the phone and touch base. And the longer you wait, the harder it gets. It’s not that you want to drop your friend——you just don’t know how to extract yourself from what has become a personal embarrassment. In fact, it reaches the point where you don’t want to call because you fear that edge in your friend’s voice. You know that you’ve put things off so long you are going to have to live with your friend’s irritation.

There are people who have the same kind of relationship—or should we say, ?non—relationship’—going with God. They’ve put God off for so long that they don’t quite know how to get things back on track with him. Through the years, as a pastor, I have met people who have been on the run from God. I have met people who have hidden from God for years. They’ve been AWOL from God so long that they are embarrassed at the thought of offering a prayer, or even showing up at a worship service.

Maybe I’m talking about you. You’ve let your relationship with God slide, and you don’t quite know where to begin again. You might well be asking yourself what God thinks of all this. You don’t want to call your friend because you don’t know how she will respond to your phone call. And you don’t want to touch base with God because you don’t quite know how he’s going to react either. Is he going to chew you out—“Where have you been all these years?“ Or even worse, is he going to hang up on you? Maybe after all these years he’s moved on to other people. Maybe you no longer count.

If you have those thoughts, let me unpack a story that Jesus told that addresses your fear. You might have heard this story called the parable of the prodigal son. That title puts the son front and center. But I don’t think this story is first of all about the son. I think it’s about the father. And discovering what this parable teaches about the father is one of the most important spiritual lessons you will ever learn.

REBEL AGAINST THE FATHER’S LOVE

Now, this story is, quite frankly, about a family that’s in crisis. It’s a story that has played itself out in thousands of homes. A young man, in spite of being loved and cherished, feels tied down. You can almost here him mutter as he wanders about the estate: “The old man is always getting on my nerves. Always jerking me around.“ I suspect this young man and his father have gotten into some pretty heated discussions about boundaries and the true meaning of freedom. No doubt the father has tried to show his son that liberty doesn’t mean license. No doubt he’s tried to convince his son that life in the father’s house is what freedom is all about. But the son isn’t buying it. Too many rules. Too many barriers. Too many boundaries.

You know, we shouldn’t be too harsh on this young man. Frankly, there is plenty of his attitude in each of us. And it’s not just when we are in our teens and want to stretch our wings as young adults and fly. This is the stuff with which we struggle a lifetime. In me—and perhaps you too—there is this suspicion that living life God’s way—the Father’s way——puts us out of the action. Don’t we live with the uneasy fear that God’s children miss out on all the fun? That life’s secret little pleasures pass us by when we stay at home on God’s estate? Secretly, we fear that God is like the cranky old man in the neighborhood who keeps an eye on what the kids are doing and when ever it seems that anyone is having a good time, he leans out his front door and shouts: ?Now cut that out!’

Oh, it’s not that we really want to make a mess of life. I don’t believe this young son wanted to ruin his life either. It’s just that he wanted to have his fling. Discover what life was like on the other side of the fence. Know what that’s like?

I was talking to someone the other day who told me that he has a hard time learning from other people. He only learned from experience. And that is this young man. He wouldn’t believe the burner is hot until he touched it for himself. He doesn’t want to die without having discovered what it means to party—hearty. He wants to know what its like to let go his inhibitions and fly high.

THE STUNNING REQUEST

But how can you have a good time off the father’s estate when you are dead broke? So this young upstart makes a request: “Father, give me my share of the estate.“ Now there are a couple times in this story where something really shocking happens—and the first shock happens right here.

Kenneth Bailey, who was raised in the Middle East and has written on the parables of Christ from the perspective of ordinary Palestinian folk, tells us that he has interviewed hundreds of people from all walks of life from Morocco to India, from Turkey to the Sudan—and asked them about the son’s request. He tells us the conversation is remarkably the same where ever he goes.

“Has anyone in your village ever made this request?“ “Never.“

“Could anyone make this request?’ “Impossible.“

“Why not?“ “Because this request means he wants his father to die!“

To ask for your share of the inheritance in near eastern society is like saying to your father: “Drop dead.“

The father could have driven his son out from his presence. But he didn’t. His son is lost in spirit. Emotionally and spiritually, the son has already checked out from the family home. Now, he will check out physically. The father allows his son to depart. And, says Jesus, the son disappears ?into the far country.’

THE FAR COUNTRY

The far country. What a powerful description of the nature of rebellion against God. Rebellion distances you from God. It puts you into ?the far country’ many miles from the Father’s house.

But you know, sometimes we don’t know what we have until we lose it. Hylke Speerstra, in his book, Cruel Paradise, recounts the experiences of Dutch immigrants who scattered to North America, Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa. They went looking for a touch of paradise, but they often found that life in their new land was painful and cruel. Speerstra tells the story of one immigrant who couldn’t get away from his home village in the Netherlands fast enough. Then he spent the rest of his life yearning to go back. Why is it, asks Speerstra, that what we hated most, we can most long for?

In the far country, the son believes he will be able to construct his own private paradise. That is the basic delusion of sin. Sin always thinks that it can construct a home apart from the Father. But in the far country, the son learns the bitter truth. He finds that in the far country, apart from the Father, a man, a woman simply sink into their own private hell.

The son is reduced to nothingness. He must take a job feeding swine. For a good Jew in Jesus’ day, taking a job feeding pigs was to fall to the level of the unthinkable, the unimaginable. In fact, for this Jewish boy, feeding the pigs was a denial of his very identity as a son in the Father’s house.

And as the son sits there in the rubble of his despair, he devises a plan. It is a plan specifically geared to salvage a little self—esteem. Isn’t it interesting how hard it is to kill human pride? This young man is eating corn—husks, he’s reduced to a job that makes him the outcast of the community—and he is still manipulating his options for his own purpose. This young man decides to go home, but he will not accept charity from his Father. After all, he still has a strong back. He can work as a hired man around the estate. He can still pay his own way. And with that plan in mind, the young man heaves himself up from the garage heap and heads home.

THE WAITING FATHER

But now the scene shifts. And the Father takes center stage. For the Father all this time has been waiting for the possibility of his son’s return. And what happens next is the second great shocker in this parable.

You see, the Father has been watching each day, standing by the window, looking for a sign of his son’s return. And now, he looks out and sees a speck in the distance. Is it just some farmer bringing a load to the market? Or perhaps some strangers making their way to the village? No, the shape grows, and takes on a strangely familiar cast. Oh, the clothing is strange, and there is a stoop to the shoulders. But the build is right. And the face is undeniable—it is the face of his son. And hurrying out the door of the house, the Father runs out to meet him.

And therein lies love greater than we know. For in the first century, jogging hadn’t quite become the fad it is today. I go down to the gym and jog my two miles. But in Jesus’ day, no one joined the YMCA to get in shape. In Jesus’ day, it was the height of humiliation for a great man in the village to be caught running any where. In fact, an old Jewish proverb says: “A man’s manner of walking tells you who he is.“

Yet the Father runs. He runs to meet his son. Why? Is it just because he is overcome with emotion? No, no, he runs for another reason. Because the villagers will taunt his son when he walks through the village street. And the father will not allow it. He will be the first to greet his son on the edge of the village. He will walk with him to the father’s home. With the father by his side, his son will be spared the taunts and stares of the neighbors. And so with robes flapping, the father humiliates himself for the sake of his child.

And THERE, my friends, the depth of the Father’s love is put on display. In fact, here you see love that humiliates itself for the beloved—even unto Calvary, even unto the cross. For yes, if you want to know how far the Father will go for the sake of wayward children like us, just look to see what he is willing to sacrifice. He will give his only begotten Son to the sufferings of Calvary so that wayward children can be greeted on the road home.

And now, before the love of the Father, the prodigal’s plans to redeem himself crumble into dust. Love this bold, this great, this sacrificial brings our pride to its knees. How can he cling to his own pride when his Father has humiliated himself for his sake. There are no proposals offered—no compromises. Only a leap into the Father’s grace: “Father, I have sinned . . . I am unworthy to be called your son.“

LOVE SO AMAZING

And now, the wonder of the love of the Father comes to full flower. For the son who is no longer worthy is a son welcomed back into the household. “Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals for his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it . . . “

Each command speaks to the Father’s love. “Bring the best robe.“ That would be the Father’s OWN robe. It would be the robe the Father wore on special occasions. In that command you hear an echo of Isaiah 61: “You have covered me with the robe of righteousness.“

And put a ring on his finger. Not just a pretty bauble, but undoubtedly the signet ring. The ring which bore the Father’s own seal. The ring used to mark the Father’s own papers and documents. The ring of trust and authority.

And put shoes on his feet. Shoes, the sign of the son’s return to the household. For a servant will place those shoes on his feet—a sign of the servant’s subservience to the Master’s Son. This son is not a slave. He is an honored member of the Father’s family household.

And let the fattened calf be slain! For the return of the son means joy—and not just for the Father but for the village. The whole town must celebrate. In Palestine, a rich man who threw a party chose the main course according to the number of guests who would attend. Only if the whole village was attending would a man slay the fattened calf. Here the whole village is invited to share the Father’s joy.

What a picture of the forgiving Father!Forgiveness means the robe of righteousnessthe ring of trustthe shoes of sonshipAnd where such lavish forgiveness comes, there joy breaks forth!

What do you think about God? If you were to return to him—I mean really run back into his arms, what would he do? If you stopped paying him a little lip service, stopped offering him a few crumbs of your life, stopped avoiding his eye—but came back into his presence and admitted your need for him—how would he react?

Well, now you know. Now you know the welcoming love of the Father that embraces us no matter how far we have run from him, no matter how much a mess our lives have become. I would guess that there were chapters to this young man’s life that would shock the neighbors. There are chapters that we’ve written in our lives that would shock the neighbors as well. There are things we have done that embarrass us to the core. But nothing, no nothing we have done is so terrible, so hideous, that the heavenly Father doesn’t welcome us back as his sons and daughters, because of the grace that comes through his only—begotten Son, Jesus Christ.

If you’re out in the far country, wondering when it’s a good time to go home to the Father’s house, here’s the good news. The time is now. The Father has a light on in the window. Go home. Go home to God. And discover the love and grace that gives you a freedom you will never experience anywhere else.

THE OTHER PRODIGAL

But this parable is not quite over. Something is wrong here. Someone isn’t celebrating. It’s the older brother. He’s come in from work and found a party going on. And he is doing a fast burn! Because, you see, if the younger brother is a freedom seeker—the older son is a legalist. The older brother keeps the rules in order to earn the Father’s favor. Neither brother had considered their position in the household to be a gift of grace—pure and simple.

That’s why the older brother cannot understand this celebration. He returns from work in the fields only to discover that his irresponsible, no—good brother has shown up again. And what is his father doing? Throwing a party! But there was nothing his younger brother COULD have done but drag himself back home!

That’s the way things look to the older brother. And there are those of us who with similar thoughts. There are those of us who have never rebelled against the Father’s love. Raised in Christian homes, we cannot identify a time when we weren’t serious about walking with Jesus. We have denied ourselves so we could financially support the Kingdom. We have dutifully volunteered hours to the Kingdom while people without our Christian commitment seem to have the money and the time to give themselves what ever they want out of life.

And now what happens? The prodigals return. And when they do, it seems rather unfair to us that God rolls out the red carpet and throws the big welcome! And expects us to join the party as well!

But in the parable, the Father is as tender with the elder brother as he is with his younger brother. “My son,“ he says, “you are always with me, and everything I have is yours . . . but we must celebrate, because the son who was dead is alive, the son who was lost is found.“

And there, the story ends. It ends, but it isn’t over. We do not know whether the elder brother ever joined the feast. But of course, Jesus COULD not finish the story, could he? Because the end of the story is written by every one of us who identify with the oldest in the family. If that’s you, will you step inside, and join the party that celebrates God’s grace to all God’s children?

About the Author

Robert Heerspink

Rev. Robert Heerspink is a native of west Michigan. He completed his undergraduate studies at Calvin College and holds the degrees of Master of Divinity and Master of Theology from Calvin Theological Seminary. He has also received a Doctor of Ministry degree from Trinity Evangelical Divinity School. Bob was ordained a minister of the Word in the Christian Reformed Church of North America in 1979, and has 26 years of parish experience, having served four churches throughout west Michigan. He was appointed the Director of The Back to God Hour in 2006. Bob has written several resources related to congregational stewardship, including the book, Becoming a Firstfruits Congregation. He is a regular contributor to TODAY, the monthly devotional of The Back to God Hour. Bob is married to Edith (Miedema) and they have three children. His hobbies include reading fictional and historical works, watersports, and occassional golfing.

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