The Lost Sheep and the Prodigal Son: Different approaches for different absences

I've heard the parable of the Prodigal Son preached roughly every 3 years, and so I expect I've heard at least a dozen sermons on the text. Today I heard a new insight I had never heard before. 

The parable of the Lost Sheep -- shortly before the Prodigal Son, and part of the same conversation -- describes a shepherd who has 100 sheep until one wanders off and becomes lost. The shepherd seeks the lost sheep tirelessly until he finds it and safely returns the sheep to the flock. 

The parable of the Prodigal Son describes a young man who demands his inheritance from his still-living father, leaves home, and squanders his inheritance. After losing everything and nearly starving, he comes back home humbly. While he was still a way off, his father sees him and runs to him and welcomes him. 

The sheep who went astray was clueless and foolish. He may not have left intentionally. His separation may have been as simple as not knowing how to find his way back. The shepherd went out looking for him. 

The son who went astray acted in coldness, possibly even malice in demanding an inheritance while his father was still alive. The father did not leave everything and go looking for him. Instead, the father waited until the son came back home, and went out to meet him after he had turned back the right direction and was ready to head home. 

Those parables show the constancy of God's love and the constancy of the rejoicing in heaven over everyone who returns home safely. They also show different approaches to those who left cluelessly and those who turned away spitefully. The desire to have the lost one back is the same. But for someone who left intentionally, there may be no gain in seeking their return until they want to return. The thing that moves the prodigal son to come back is partly his hardship and his hunger. It's also partly knowing that his father loves him very much, having no doubt his father would welcome him back. The groundwork for the prodigal son's return happened before he left. 

"Purple Heart" in life

"Bear each others' burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ." (Galatians 6:2)

Each Lent, it's useful to me to take up a spiritual reflection. This year I have been trying to become more aware of the burdens that other people carry. It helps me be more loving to them, more considerate, less likely to be impatient or critical. And how can we "bear each others' burdens" without knowing them? 

When a soldier has been wounded, they may be considered for a Purple Heart -- a medal that recognizes an injury received, and in general injuries are not forgotten. Life in general has no Purple Heart -- at least not officially. And yet life is full of "walking wounded" who may not get recognition, honor, or respect for what they have endured. When I find myself tending toward critical thoughts of someone, it's helpful to run through the Purple Hearts they have earned in life, whether struggles with illness, disability, loss, or any other hardship. 

May I slow down my critical thoughts, and respect and honor people for the hardships they have faced. That is one help in bearing each others' burdens. 

Forgiveness versus Excuses

I've begun to think we may not always "forgive" when we think we have forgiven someone. Speaking for myself, I'm more likely to have excused them -- that is, I have found an excuse that I found acceptable and so what was done was not really wrong, all things considered. Or I've evaluated a hurt as too small to worry about, and given it a pass. "It's not wrong enough to worry about." And it may be true, but it's also not forgiveness. 

When I'm the one in the wrong, my first try is usually for a pass (not wrong enough to worry about) or an excuse (there was a good enough reason or a greater good, so not really wrong). It's when there is no excuse that I need to squarely face the idea of forgiveness. The distinction is important because if all my thoughts of forgiveness are tangled in with thoughts of "accepting an excuse", then any talk of forgiveness can seem like excusing the inexcusable.  If my thoughts of forgiveness are tangled in with thoughts of "give it a pass" then any talk of forgiveness seems like claiming the problem isn't worth worrying about. And so forgiveness itself can look offensive or immoral, if it's considered to be no different than giving a pass or making excuses. 

Forgiveness -- as opposed to accepting excuses -- only comes into the picture when there is no way to give something a pass, no excuse that can be accepted. Forgiveness comes into the picture when there are human beings in that situation, who have done things that cannot be excused. Forgiveness comes into the picture when I realize I am one of those people too. When I sing "Amazing Grace" I sing it for me. I have real faults, not just resume faults. 

With that in mind, if someone is trying for redemption, let me not be the undertow dragging them back. If someone has gotten to the point of acknowledging they do not deserve a pass, and they do not have an excuse, then there might be redemption. 

"Even the demons believe in God" (James 2:19)

The new pastor of my congregation asked an interesting thought-question recently: If the demons believe in God, what exactly do they believe about him? 

• They believe that God exists (James 2:19)
• They believe that Jesus is the Holy One of God (Luke 4:34)
• They believe that God will bring an end to their evil reign (Luke 4:34)
• But they do not work for mercy; they are "the accuser" (Revelation 12:10)

When we accuse each other -- even with cause -- we often do the work of the opposition.