“Our Forgiving Father”—Luke 15
Part 3: “Father, I Don’t Need You!”
Welcome: Thanks for reading my Passion Week blog series as we reflect together on Our Forgiving Father. Today in Part 3, we see the reason why Jesus went to the Cross—each of us, in our own sinful way, have said, “Father, I Don’t Need You!” But God offers us hope—when we put our ear to the chest of Christ we hear the heartbeat of God—the heartbeat of our Forgiving Father.
Part 3: “Father, I Don’t Need You!”: Luke 15:13-14; 27-29
Like the prodigal, we have all said, “I’m leaving You, Father!” Like him, we also have said, “Father, I don’t need you!”
Leaving the fullness of the father’s love, the younger son embarks on a quest to find fulfillment in the world. The father’s voice of unconditional love has always said, “You are safe with me. You can rest in me. You are my beloved.” The son shuts his ears to his father’s voice.
“Father, I Can Satisfy My Own Soul”: Luke 15:13-14
Leaving the voice of his father, this self-sufficient young man begins to hear the voices of the world. This son, like each of us, hears those other voices: loud, full of promises, and very seductive. “You don’t need the Father. You can make it on your own. Take care of yourself!” But the son forgets a basic principle of human nature: something must fill our emptiness. Something must fill the empty void we create when we push the Father out.
That’s why these voices have a way of coming back to haunt us. They certainly haunt this son. Notice how Jesus pictures the haunting in verses 13-14. “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. After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need.” He squanders his wealth. He scatters it abroad without restraint. He spent the whole wad in a futile attempt to fill his spiritual need with material possessions.
Two decades ago, when my son, Josh, was five, we took a family trip to Disney World. Josh had saved up tons of money—tons of money for a five-year-old, anyway—and had it in quarters in a sip-lock bag. A Brink’s truck it wasn’t, but you would have been hard pressed to snatch that money from his clutches! Josh had major plans for the special purchases he would spend his treasure on when we arrived at Disney World, Orlando, Florida! The first thing we did was have our picture taken in front of the Magic Kingdom. The second thing we did was visit the Magic Kingdom. The third thing we did, given that Josh insisted, was stop at the arcade in the Magic Kingdom. At this time, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were at the height of their popularity. And Josh, with his bag of quarters, saved for a year for unique Disney World adventures, proceeded to scatter his money abroad without restraint on the very same Turtle game that the local department store had at a cheaper price!
Don’t be too hard on my son. He was only five. The fact is, spiritually speaking, we all squander what we have in a futile attempt to gain what we can never purchase on our own.
The prodigal son of Jesus’ parable not only squanders his wealth, he also becomes entangled in the powerful enticements of the world. He spends his money in loose living. He vainly attempts to fill his emptiness with the unrestrained satisfaction of the flesh. Something must fill the empty void we create when we push out our Father.
Years ago, a woman I was counseling spoke the saddest words I’ve ever heard. We had been talking about her past and our Father’s healing power when she looked at me with piercing eyes and said, “Bob, some sins are so deep that even the love of God can’t touch them.” Though they are false words, this tormented Christian believed them.
Because of his lifestyle, the prodigal son would succumb to similar false thinking. He would come to believe that his sins were so deep that he was doomed to live an unforgiven life.
“Father, I Can Save My Own Soul”: Luke 15:27-29
His fate, however, must take a backseat for the moment. Recall that Jesus began His parable with the words, “There was a man who had two sons.” To hear the heartbeat of our Father, we must also view Christ’s portrait of the elder son.
Jesus introduces him later in the story, after the father had begun to celebrate with the younger son. Upon hearing the sound of music and dancing, the elder son called one of the servants to determine what was happening. “‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fatted calf because he has him back safe and sound.’ The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I have been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends’” (15:27-29).
In the Hermitage in St. Petersburg, Russia hangs one of Rembrandt’s most famous paintings: The Return of the Prodigal Son. In Rembrandt’s depiction of this powerful parable, the elder son stands far off, hands clasped, back stiff and erect. There is a great gulf between him and his father. It is a picture of a son, who though he had never left home, long ago left home. He saw himself as a slave, not as a son. As Henri Nouwen writes:
Not only did the younger son, who left home to look for freedom and happiness in a distant country, get lost, but the one who stayed home also became a lost man. Exteriorly, he did all the things a good son is supposed to do, but interiorily, he wandered away from his father. He did his duty, worked hard every day, and fulfilled all his obligations but became increasingly unhappy and unfree.
He too experiences awayness from his father. He’s away from the father because he’s clinging to his self-righteousness. Defiantly he confronts his father. “I never disobeyed your orders. I never transgressed your commandments!” He is unwilling to acknowledge that he’s no better than his younger brother. He is unwilling to admit that he, too, has it comin,’ and is in need of fatherly forgiveness.
The Rest of the Story
So far, it might not seem like much of an “Easter story.” But remember, Good Friday and Easter are God’s responses to our sin. It’s time to listen to the heartbeat of our forgiving Father in Part 4—“Returning Home.”
Join the Conversation
Which prodigal are you more like? The overtly rebellious one who says, “Father, I can satisfy my own soul?” Or, the subtly rebellious one who says, “Father, I can save my own soul?”
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