Have you ever noticed how difficult it is for many
of us to view God as our Father? I mean
really see him as a loving Father figure. It takes no effort on our part to see
him as ominous judge, disciplining warden, or stern overseer, but loving,
humorous, friendly, forgiving…not so much.
Perhaps it’s because we have been so often reminded of the threat of
punishment at his hand should we spurn him. Perhaps it’s something the Devil
uses to make us shy away from God. Perhaps
it’s because we know ourselves and believe no one could love us in our current
state. I don’t know. I do know, however,
that God is not some emotionless being far removed from us. No, he pities us, hurts with us, comforts us,
listens to us, leads us if we let him, and ultimately keeps hoping that if we
choose to wander, we will come back home.
Does
that seem impossible to you? A God who
loves like a father? Sometimes it does to me. I am hard on myself. I hate my imperfections. Sometimes I feel
alone, useless, wasted, unworthy. Thus,
the parable in Luke 15 resonates deep within my soul…
Picture him, a middle aged, wealthy man with a wife, two sons, servants,
livestock, and land. His entire life has
been poured into building an inheritance for his sons. They are his pride and joy. He wants to hand
something down to them that will enhance their future. His boys work alongside him, learning to run
the operation in a manner that reaps the most benefits. From birth, they have been groomed for the
time when all that their father has built will become theirs. They are now grown and the father believes
they love him and the family holdings enough to stay there and continue
enhancing their inheritance until he passes away.
But it is not to
be. The younger son becomes
disillusioned with the work, the animals, the stench, the dirt, the country. He
is bored. The grass looks greener on the
other side of the fence. He longs for a faster paced, less restricted
life. The stories of a far off country
that seems so much more exciting and fun fill his head and give him ideas of
fame and fortune. They teem with easy
wealth, bright lights, huge parties, and worldwide fame. Each day the son grows
more and more discontented, more and more restless. Each day he despises his
lot in life a little more. Finally, he goes to his father and asks for his
inheritance so that he can build his own life far away from the things he hates.
The father is broken
hearted, but complies because he realizes the need of each individual to find
themselves in their own way. The son takes his inheritance and sets out for
this alleged country of glamour. He spends
like the money is endless. He lives like
youth never fades. He chases fame and
fortune. Sadly, he never finds them. The
inheritance money runs out. He finds
himself destitute. A famine takes over
the land. In desperation, he hires on with a local farmer just to get by. His job is feeding the pigs whatever scraps
he decides not to eat himself.
One day, as he fights
the pigs for his lunch, he realizes that he is worse off than when he
started. The animals, the stench, the
dirt are back, but he is no longer in a position of favor. He is unrecognizably filthy and unkempt. He stinks. It dawns on him that he would be
so much better off in his father’s house—if only as a servant. In that moment he resolves to go to his
father. He gets up, brushes himself off
the best he can, quits his job and heads toward home. But not just toward home. Toward his father.
He had a speech planned,
a petition to become a servant. He had
no lofty goal of resuming his place as son.
Clearly, he has no doubt concerning the forgiveness of his father, as he
appears quite certain of attaining the position of a servant. However, his lack
of faith in being restored to the family suggests a wavering of his belief in
the depth of his father’s love. Perhaps it was self loathing for what he had
done and become that caused him to wonder if his father could love him with the
same intensity. If he doubted his father’s love, he was in for a grand
surprise.
His father was waiting for him. Not just waiting, but watching. He was anxiously sitting on the front porch,
eyes trained on the road, straining for a glimpse of his wayward boy. Imagine the moment he saw the figure take
shape on the horizon. His heart leaps in
his chest. He moves to the railing,
shades his eyes with his hand. Excitement courses through his veins. He strains to focus better, to see so far
away. Then he recognizes the gait of the
traveler and surges forward.
And he runs to him. It is an uninhibited
sprint of a father’s joy. It is the
unstoppable, overflowing excitement in a father seeing the answer to his
prayers, hopes and dreams materialize right before his eyes. It is the non-judgmental eye of love that
doesn’t see the dirt, the unrestrained joy that doesn’t smell the stench. It is clear he didn’t see the dirt or smell
the stench because, as fantastic as the running was, the next part is even
better.
He threw his arms
around him in the biggest of bear hugs, held on tight, and kissed him.
Imagine the son’s
surprise. All he can think about are his
mistakes, his filth, his unworthiness, his shame. He tentatively hugs back. When finally his father steps back to look at
him, the son launches into his abject apology, his diatribe on his
unworthiness, and his desire to become a servant to his father. In one grand gesture, the father swept away
the dirt, the guilt, the shame, the humiliation. He reinstated the son to his place as the
father’s child. He threw a party. Love, forgiveness, mercy, and grace.
And there it is the most beautiful story of fatherly love, the most
perfect picture of God’s feelings toward us, first told by the most reputable
story teller— His son, Jesus. Who better
to know the heart of God than His Son?
Can you see it now? Can you see
yourself unkempt, filthy, ugly, haggard, shuffling along in search of the
loving God your heart says has to exist?
Can you feel his arms enfold you, his radiant smile fall on your face,
the brush of his lips as he welcomes you? I can. Sometimes, I can almost physically feel him
brush my hair back. Maybe I’m crazy—probably not. I believe in this loving Father because I
know him. You can too. The Bible promises if you seek him with your
whole heart, you will find him. (Jeremiah 29:13)
So
this Father’s Day, seek out the Father, not because you haven’t been
introduced. You likely have been. Seek him because you believe his love for you
is active. Seek him because he loves
you, pities you, delights in you, laughs with you, and weeps over you. Seek him because he is ever ready to come to
your aid. Seek him because he loves you
because of, not in spite of, whom and what you are, and has spent your entire
life waiting for you to see him as the loving Father he is. May you seek him. May you find him. May your heart accept his love. May your life be changed because you believe
that you are beloved of the Father.
Be blessed.
