Thursday, 08 September 2011 06:15 Written by Jim Denison

One of the most encouraging readings I have ever found is this adaptation from Henri Nouwein's classic book The Beloved:

I have called you by name from the very beginning. You are mine and I am yours. You are my beloved, on you my favor rests. I have molded you in the depths of the earth and knitted you together in your mother's womb. I have carved you in the palm of my hand and hidden you in the shadow of my embrace. I look at you with infinite tenderness and care for you with a care more intimate than that of a mother for her child. I have counted every hair on your head and guided you at every step. Wherever you go, I go with you, and wherever you rest, I keep watch. I will give you food that will satisfy all your hunger and drink that will quench all your thirst. I will not hide my face from you. You are my beloved in whom I am well pleased.

Do these words touch you at a deep place in your soul? Why?

Don't we all know instinctively that there is something wrong with us and our world? That this is not the way things are supposed to be? Our nation leads the industrialized world in teenage pregnancy; one out of three American girls becomes pregnant before the age of 20, 81% out of wedlock. Pornography makes more money in America than Google, Yahoo, Amazon, eBay, Microsoft, Apple, and Netflix—combined. Property theft costs us more than $15 billion a year. Homicide is the second-leading cause of death in America for infants. There are 27,900 gangs in America, with 774,000 members; last year they made $125 billion selling illegal drugs.

As we near the tenth anniversary of 9/11, we are focused on this statement in God's word:

When I shut up the heavens so that there is no rain, or command locusts to devour the land or send a plague among my people, if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land" (2 Chronicles 7:13-14).

We have seen our need for spiritual and moral renewal as we face the droughts, locusts, and plagues of our day. God's redemption begins with his own people, called by his name. He calls us to humble ourselves, making him our King; to pray together for our nation; and to seek his face in an intimate, personal, passionate relationship.

When we do these things, we see ourselves as he sees us. In the light of his holiness, we realize that we must "turn from our wicked ways." "Turn" translates shuwb ("shoob", to turn back, retreat, recoil from, refuse to continue. "Wicked" translates rah, that which is exceedingly wrong. It implies death, action that damages or destroys us. "Ways" translates derek, a path, journey, way of life.

Why is repentance essential to spiritual renewal? How are we to repent today? Let's consider Jesus' most famous parable, considered the greatest short story in the world. As we walk through it together, ask yourself: which character are you?

Walking in "wicked ways"

Our story begins simply: "There was a man who had two sons" (v. 11). The man was presumably a Palestinian Jewish farmer or landowner. His "many" servants (v. 17) attested to his wealth. He was a man blessed with lands, possessions, and sons. Until today.

This day, "The younger one said to his father, 'Father, give me my share of the estate'" (v. 12a). He wanted the part of the estate which customarily came to him at his father's death. Assuming there were only two sons, the older would receive two-thirds of the estate, so-called "double share" (Deuteronomy 21:17), while the younger received one-third. Such a request was not impossible legally, but it was as much an outrage as a similar demand would be in our society today.

Despite this grave insult, the father did as his younger son asked: "So he divided his property between them" (v. 12b). The father did not have to agree to his son's presumptuous and arrogant request, but he did. In so doing, he had to liquidate much of his estate.

"Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living" (v. 13). He left his Palestinian home to see the larger world. And it saw him coming. Soon he "squandered" his wealth—the word means to scatter in various directions. Picture a farmer throwing his seed to the wind, and you see the younger brother at work. His father's lifetime of earning and savings was nothing to him. Easy come, easy go.

Had he invested poorly, we would criticize his foolishness but not his goals. But he squandered his wealth in "wild living." The word means to "live prodigally," to engage in debauched living. This word, found here only in the New Testament, names its owner for all time as the "prodigal son."

What happened next is the way of our fallen world: "After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need" (v. 14). Famines were common in the ancient Near East. The young man had lost all he owned, and now had no way to earn it back.

So he stepped from the immoral to the unthinkable: "he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs" (v. 15). Pig herding was the most degrading occupation known to the Jews. Pigs were "unclean" for the people (Leviticus 11:7); they were "not to eat their meat or touch their carcasses" (Deut. 14:8). One of the rabbis said, "Cursed be the man who raises pigs."

The "prodigal" took his father's estate as though he were dead. He left his home for the "far country." He "squandered" possessions his father spent a lifetime earning. Now he forced himself on a Gentile to feed pigs. But there was one step lower into the abyss: "He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything" (v. 16).

He had found the "wicked ways" of which 2 Chronicles speaks. But by the grace of God, the story doesn't end there.

Coming home to grace

Now comes my favorite phrase in the story: "When he came to his senses" (v. 17a). The phrase was commonly applied to one who had been deranged but recovered his mind, or in this case, his soul.

No matter where you find yourself today, it's not too late. You can stop feeding the pigs, and craving their food. You can stop working for the pig owners. You can come to yourself. You can come home to grace.

The prodigal said to himself, "How many of my father's hired men have food to spare, and here I am starving to death!" (v. 17b). "Food to spare" translates a phrase which means to be surrounded by loaves as by a flood. So, "I will set out and go back to my father" (v. 18a). But how could he? The legal documents were signed and executed. He had no further claims on the estate, no rights to his previous status. The father had no reason or obligation to receive such a sinful, dishonorable prodigal.

The young son knew it was so: he would declare to him: "Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men" (vs. 18b-19). He could do nothing to deserve restoration. He was right, and repentant.

So, his repentance sincere and his resolve sure, "he got up and went to his father" (v. 20a). But his father was not done with grace. Here is one of the most poignant verses in all the word of God: "But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him" (v. 20).

The father had been looking for his son, from the moment he left to the moment he returned. He was "filled with compassion" for this son now limping back in rags and repentance. He "ran" to his son, regardless of Eastern dignity and the proprieties of advancing years, exactly the opposite of the way his son has come home to him. He "kissed him," in language which means to kiss fervently and frequently, over and over again. This act was the ancient sign of forgiveness.

The prodigal was welcomed home as a beloved son. He received "the best robe" (v. 22a), a stately garment worn by kings which came down to the feet, replacing the wretched rags the boy wore home. A ring was placed on his finger (v. 22b), Jewish tradition for one honored as his father's deputy (cf. Esther 8:2). The son was not only received, but promoted. And he was given "sandals on his feet" (v. 22c). No slaves wore sandals, only sons.

But the father was not done with grace: "Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let's have a feast and celebrate" (v. 23). Wealthy landowners kept a calf fattened for festive occasions. And so the father kept the calf, perhaps hoping for his son's return and the party he would give in his honor.

Why the celebration? "This son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found" (v. 24a). "This my son" is the literal wording. The father claimed his boy publicly, introducing him to attendants who did not know him from before he left for the far country. And telling the world that he was proud of his boy. He had been "dead" spiritually (cf. Romans 6:13; Revelation 3:1; Ephesians 2:1-5), but now he was alive. He had been lost, but now he is found.

All because his son came home to grace.

Conclusion

How do we join him? How do we "turn from our wicked ways" today? Let's conduct a spiritual inventory today. Take a sheet of paper and pen, and reserve 15 minutes to be alone with God. Ask the Holy Spirit to bring to your mind anything in your life which displeases God, and write down what comes to your thoughts. Be honest and specific, as no one will see this but you.

Then confess these sins, individually, with a repentant heart. Claim the fact that your Father forgives all you confess to him (1 John 1:9) and forgets what he forgives (Jeremiah 31:34). Throw the paper away and walk into the day unburdened and free.

To "turn from our wicked ways" is to abandon ourselves to our Father once and for all. The brilliant Chinese theologian Watchman Nee stated:

A day must come in our lives, as definite as the day of our conversion, when we give up all right to ourselves and submit to the absolute Lordship of Jesus Christ.

. . . There must be a day when, without reservation, we surrender everything to Him—ourselves, our families, our possessions, our business and our time. All we are and have becomes His, to be held henceforth entirely at His disposal. From that day we are no longer our own masters, but only stewards.

Not until the Lordship of Jesus Christ is a settled thing in our hearts can the Holy Spirit really operate effectively in us. He cannot direct our lives until all control of them is committed to Him. If we do not give Him absolute authority in our lives, He can be present, but He cannot be powerful. The power of the Spirit is stayed (The Normal Christian Life 134-5).

Is today that day for you?

 

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