The Prodigal Son: Redux
"One of the greatest challenges of the spiritual life is to receive God's forgiveness. There is something in us humans that keeps us clinging to our sins and prevents us from letting God erase our past and offer us a completely new beginning. Sometimes it even seems as though I want to prove to God that my darkness is too great to overcome. While God wants to restore me to the full dignity of sonship, I keep insisting that I will settle for being a hired servant. But do I truly want to be so totally forgiven that a completely new way of living becomes possible? Do I trust myself and such a radical reclamation? Do I want to break away from my deep-rooted rebellion against God and surrender myself so absolutely to God's love that a new person can emerge? Receiving forgiveness requires a total willingness to let God be God and do all the healing, restoring, and renewing. As long as I want to do even a part of that myself, I end up with partial solutions, such as becoming a hired servant. As a hired servant, I can still keep my distance, still revolt, reject, strike, run away, or complain about my pay. As the beloved son, I have to claim my full dignity and begin preparing myself to become the father."
Henri Nouwen's "The Return of the Prodigal Son" is many things. It is a study of a single painting that became an obsession. It is a journal of one man's continuing self-discovery. It is a dissection of one of the greatest parables. And it is a suggestion of how to glorify God by simply becoming a better person. The concept is easy. The execution less so.
Nouwen's journey begins with an identification with the younger son: the abject, penniless, weary, tattered, kneeling figure in the foreground of the painting. He relates his similarity to this man and implicitly drives home how similar we all are to him. Early on, he makes a point I had never considered; that when he requested his inheritance from his father, the prodigal son was saying in effect, "I wish you were dead." Do we ever wish that God didn't exist, that we could do whatever we wanted without the accompanying guilt? If so, then we begin to understand what the father felt who so joyously welcomed his son home.
In one of my favorite passages (above), Nouwen gets into the mind of the prodigal. He reasons why he was not just content to come back as a hired hand, but perhaps in favor of. The hired hand, doesn't need total forgiveness, nor the responsibility that comes with it. He has no accountability and no more duty than his own job requires. He doesn't have to become, he merely has to be.
I read this book during my own study of discipleship and each chapter returned me to the same thought. It's not enough to admit our sin and turn around. It's not enough to come home and allow our Father to embrace us again. It's not even enough to accept forgiveness and repent. It is required of us that we aspire to what the Father is, that we allow ourselves to be discipled, that we train. There is no such thing as a Christian who is not a disciple.
Are you willing to let God be God?
posted by Thurman8er @ 1:14 PM
6 Comments:
So many messages for so many years have drilled the concept into our minds that we are not worthy. This is what makes being a servant in the palace better than a free man on the loose. I'm not saying it is the right thought but a thought we were not quick in formulating.
Psalm 84:10 (NCV) One day in the courtyards of your Temple is better than a thousand days anywhere else. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the Temple of my God than live in the homes of the wicked.
I’ve heard Greg use the phrase behavioral preaching. It seems that the goal of accepting forgiveness isn’t the acceptance speech but rather a change in behavior. That change cannot occur unless there is some training that we submit to, believe in, and practice.
We have to go beyond (is this a first?) “Hee-Haw Theology.” There was a weekly skit on the 70’s Country Music show where somebody would walk up to the Doctor played by Archie Campbell and say, “Doctor it hurts when I do ________.” He would always hit them and say, “Well, don’t do that!”
Perhaps we’ve stuck in the trap of Hee-Haw Theology telling people to “stop doing “that”” and not taking the next step into behavioral change.
If Steve sounds like Yoda (see Keith’s post) then I must sound like B.F. Skinner.
If anything, I could use a little less gmjkxcnt.
Glad you read the book. It was a signifcant book to me. In fact, there is a 5 foot by 3 foot poster of the painting up in the back of our sanctuary-church-worship hall-auditorium.
And the bit about his father "being dead" hit me pretty hard too.
Nouen either hits it perfect or completely misses it. I had trouble with his Jesus analogies (he is like the father, prodigal, and older brother) but still remember it!
Hang in there...
Thanks so much to everyone for weighing in. Your comments help me learn.
Brady, I felt the same way about the "Jesus analogies." And there are times when Nouwen gets SO introspective that I have trouble relating what he is saying to me. But when he hits his target, it just about knocks me down. I found myself falling in love with the painting as I read the book. I'd love to see your poster some day.
Oh, and Cecil...my dad was from Missouri. You don't have to explain Hee Haw to me.
I searched the world over and thought I found true love...you met another and "oidlj" you were gone.
Steve - I'm laughing so hard that I'm about to oidlj.
Thanks for your prayers and encouragement.
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