Homecoming

If you’ve been around church for a while you’ve probably heard the story of the Prodigal Son.

If you haven’t heard it, let me give you the cliff notes, modern day, DiCaprio Romeo and Juliette telling:

There was a wealthy father with two sons. When one of the sons came of age, he went to his dad and asked him for his inheritance. A wild question, when you think about it… Going to your parents and saying, “Hey, I know when you’re gone I’m gonna get this, so can we expedite this process and just jump to the you giving me what I am entitled to part?”

The father agrees to go along with the son's request and gives him his inheritance. The son (let’s call him Frank) takes the money, goes out into the world, and lives it up. He’s the guy who walks into the bar and yells, “Drinks on me!” He buys a Tesla, gets a custom-tailored suit, leases the downtown luxury loft, and gets as much cash back as his monogrammed money clip can hold. The credit card gets swiped over and over, and eventually it gets declined. When the card is declined, the friends scatter, leaving Frank eating the trash from the restaurant kitchen while sitting in a back alley wondering where it all went wrong. After a period of time with no friends, no money, no shelter, and no food, Frank remembers something: there are servants at his father’s house that take care of the grounds and animals. They get a door dash allowance and casper twins to sleep on in exchange for their hard work. While Frank is sure that he can’t ever ask for anything without offering something in return, he makes his way back home with the intent to beg for a spot on his father’s staff.

As he hitchhikes his way home, he gets dropped off a few miles away and begins to walk the remaining trek. He crests the final hill and sees the family mailbox at the end of the driveway.

At the same time that the son sees the mailbox, the father is sitting on the porch looking out into the sunset, hoping that his son will return. The father sees the downcast son in the distance, leaps from his chair, hikes up his robe, and sprints for the mailbox.

When he gets to his son, Frank feebly presents his request to his father, hoping for an ounce of sympathy. In return the father tells the son he isn’t allowed to be on the staff at the home because he is, has been, and always will be, his son. He calls for the smoker to be brought out and the greatest meal to be prepared. The son is welcomed home.

You see, I believe you and I carry with us a belief that the enemy wants us to repeat to ourselves: We messed up real bad. We messed up so bad that we will always be disqualified from our original standing, a son and daughter of the Good Father. The thing is, you and I seem to have this thing in us that says, “But I know God is all about grace, so I can ask for forgiveness!” BUT when we ask for forgiveness, we walk in trying to make an exchange. We want to SHOW God we are sorry by WORKING for His forgiveness. We want to be a servant instead of a son. Heck, we think we deserve that place after what we did.

We want to live in a world that reminds us of how much we hurt our dad constantly, so we don’t screw it up again.

God on the other hand has a very different perspective. He looks at that world view and kicks it to the curb. He is disgusted at the thought that we would try to earn or work for the thing that He has been aching to give you and I. He wouldn’t dream of tarnishing His grace with an exchange of our feeble attempts of payment for it. Besides, what work could we offer that would hold any value to the Creator of the universe? Our Father actually wants us to not own our mistakes, but instead GIVE Him our failures. He owned them already, so it’s about time we start to let some of them go to their rightful owner.

He knows what should happen in a world where there was no savior, sacrifice, and sanctification. But that’s not the world the Father wanted, so He made a way for a different paradigm to be introduced through Jesus. There should have been a casket for Jesus, but there was an open tomb. In the same way, we deserve death but we are given life. We should be paying back a debt, but that debt was erased by nails and a cross.

A relationship with Jesus isn’t about going to work every day to receive a paycheck of grace; it’s a daily reminder that we are always coming home, and we are always welcome there.

DJ Brennan

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