grace – Hope Walking

Would You Ever Leave Again?

What do you think about the older brother’s reaction to his brother’s returning home? Read about him here.

In Jesus’ story we often refer to the younger brother as “the prodigal son.” You know how after wasting his father’s hard-earned wealth, he finds himself destitute, walks home barefoot, and is enthusiastically greeted by his dad who throws a big party to celebrate his return.

What could possibly have given the younger son the courage to walk back up to the door from which he had so arrogantly departed? What kind of man do you think the son knew his father to be? At least he knew he was a good man, not lacking in compassion or prone to retribution. I would guess he also knew his father loved him. That he did not expect the welcome home celebration he received tells us he had underestimated both his father’s love and his father’s grief when he left home. But he knew his father would treat him as well as any other beggar who showed up asking for work, so he went home.

Imagine yourself in this son’s place. You are expecting a lecture and hoping for a few pieces of bread, and instead you get the best clothes, a ring on your finger and the fattened calf with the local band. Would you ever leave your father again?!

Now imagine you are the older brother. You had watched your dad worry and grieve over your brother. You saw him age years in the months his son was away. You had hoped to never see the ungrateful brat again, but here he is and your father has not held back anything to celebrate. And you are mad! So you stay outside, hoping your father will notice how mad you are. When he sees you he comes out with a big smile on his face and begs you to please come in and be glad with him. Why do you refuse?

I love the story of the prodigal son because it speaks so clearly and loudly of God’s heart for you and me. He wants us home. Never mind where you have been – never mind what you have done – never mind all the time you wasted – just come home and celebrate our being a family. Your Father loves you. He wants you with him, under his roof, safe and sound, surrounded by love.

Jesus told us to pray, “your will be done.” Maybe we left home like this younger son because we thought we knew better how to enjoy life. When we found out how wrong we were, we went home, knowing our Father’s will was our good. Would we ever leave again?

How different this is from the relationship the older son has with his father when he says,

“Look, all these years I have worked for you like a slave, and I have never disobeyed your orders.”

He’s doing the father’s will, but his obedience is contractual, and he feels like a hired worker.

Meanwhile inside the younger son is eating and dancing and reveling in his father’s love. Tomorrow morning the three of them will head out to the fields together.

Which son would you rather be?

Pray Like This: Your Kingdom Come

How would you describe the perfect country (the perfect kingdom?) Stop for a moment and think about it. Make a mental list of what that kingdom would be like.

For thousands of years men and women have dreamed of the perfect kingdom, utopias where everything is perfect. They dreamed of places where everyone is fed, everyone gets along with their neighbors, and fighting never molests the peace. Building utopias has often been tried, but has always ended in disasters where tyrannical rule took over. History proves that. There are no Camelots we can point at and say, “There!”

The crowds who followed Jesus fully expected him to usher in the perfect Jewish kingdom with himself as king. But when Jesus was before the Roman ruler Pilate, who asked, ”Are you a king?” Jesus answered,

“My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, …. But my kingdom is not from the world.”

Jesus taught us to pray “your kingdom come.” He had two basic rules for his kingdom. The second being “love your neighbor as yourself.” Look at your mental list for the perfect kingdom. If everyone followed this simple rule I can project that your kingdom would exist. Easy enough?

So why are we so bad at building utopias? It’s because we do not have it in ourselves to build them. We do not have it in ourselves to love our neighbors as ourselves. If you are married or have children you know that no matter how much you love your spouse or child, self-interest often rules and ruins the day. We want to live in our perfect kingdoms where we are the kings and queens, even at the expense of others. Utopias crumble under the weight of our selfishness.

But Jesus’ kingdom did not crumble. Pilate, who was wise to the ruthless power plays of the Roman Empire, stood stunned before Jesus who refused to even defend himself. Then, in a move to keep his own power intact, Pilate ordered Jesus’ crucifixion. In the greatest irony every, Jesus’ kingdom rose with power when he laid down his life for us, the most perfectly selfless act in all history.

When Jesus asks us to pray “Your kingdom come,” it is an invitation into the unconquerable Kingdom of God where you are loved and cared for beyond anything you can imagine. Jesus doesn’t just tell us to stop acting selfishly, he enables us to do so by transforming us with His overwhelming love.

Take a minute to read about the son who came home in this post and this and this. There’s a big party at the end, but the elder brother refuses to go in. You can read about it here. Let me know what you think the older brother decides, and I will meet you back here next week.

The Power of Brandt Jean

Suddenly last week news shows and social media were filled with the gentle, articulate voice of Brandt Jean. His forgiveness for his brother’s murderer was unexpected, but not unprecedented (Rev. Anthony B. Thompson forgave his wife’s killer in another poignant courtroom confrontation four years ago in Charleston.)

Some online discussion that followed distracted us from the import of this act. Let’s go back to Brandt and the power of what he did.

brandt-jean-testimony-700x438

The news that someone you love has been murdered pounds you. Many years ago my friend Frank was shot in the face and died instantly. When I heard, I felt someone had beaten me. To the weight of grief was added the assault of evil.

We can hardly start to fathom the depth of Brandt’s pain over the loss of his brother Botham, but we can profoundly value it. And that is what makes Brandt’s gift of forgiveness to Amber Guyger so stunningly powerful.

You may be thinking Amber does not deserve forgiveness, but think for a moment how you know that. How do you know there is a moral law that says murder is wrong? How do you know that anything is wrong? How do you know that you, yourself, have done wrong? I know you know that, as I know I have done serious wrong.

God put a moral law in our hearts; when we break it, we break ourselves. We can try hard to escape the despair of that brokenness, to push the pain away anyway we can, but we can’t keep it away.

But God, in Christ, took that pain on himself and died to remove our brokenness. Christ has told us to pray, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

“I hope you go to God with all the guilt, all the bad things you’ve done in the past.” Brandt told Amber. “If you truly are sorry, I know, I can speak for myself – I forgive you, and I know if you go to God and ask him, he will forgive you.”

Brandt lives in the forgiveness that has given life to him, and so he has the power to invite Amber to live also.

There are only two choices: to spend our days bickering and blaming, while the guilt in our souls destroys us, or to accept God’s forgiveness and offer mercy to everyone, even those who harm us.

“I want the best for you, because that’s exactly what Botham would want you to do. And the best would be to give your life to Christ,” Brandt said. “I’m not going to say anything else. I think giving your life to Christ would be the best thing that Botham would want you to do. Again, I love you as a person, and I don’t wish anything bad on you.”

I hope the power of this reaches you.