Tuesday, April 9, 2019

His Gifts

My two sons and I noticed it on the drive to their school this morning:

In the pinking eastern sky, a row of round, gray clouds, strung out like islands in the sea. Perfectly centered between two of these clouds, like a gem set by a jeweler, a bright star still holding its own as night faded away.

This unique and beautiful sight was fleeting, as the movement of both the clouds and our car almost immediately threw the star off center, and then obscured it completely, losing the perfect alignment that had fascinated us for a moment.

Lord, let me remember this sight for years to come, as it's not often a parent and kids share a moment of common awe.

It's also rare for a parent and kids to share a common observation from such a moment.

So, how cool was it that we noted together how those two clouds and that star have no awareness of each other, share no common space, really have nothing to do with one another, other than both existing in God's creation, yet wove themselves together so perfectly for just that instant, just from our perspective and from nowhere else in the universe, to create a picture we never would have imagined?

Could we learn to love our Maker more this way?

Could we bask more richly in the beauty of God's blessings by weaving together different combinations of His many gifts, to view from this perspective and that, wondering at how He gives and gives and gives, and at the way one of His gifts seasons another in a way we had never noticed before, though the gifts arrived at different times, in different places, and, we thought, had nothing whatsoever to do with each other?

How often do we perceive our woes this way?

How much more dreadful our fears when complemented by this thorn, that claw, that trauma, those disappointed expectations, our broken hearts? How much more bitter our regrets when framed within those unfulfilled dreams, even though none of these pains ever existed in the same time and space in our lives?

Our hurts have a way of becoming more than the sum of their parts, while His gifts, when we fail to count them, can easily seem scattered and isolated.

Father, show us Your gifts again. Let us see them in new ways, in new combinations and arrangements. Let one cast light on another, making it sparkle in a new way, even if just for a moment, and let us rejoice in the sight and love You, simply for who You are, and because You love us.

In Your Spirit, give us the wisdom to carefully take apart the fearful arrangement of our hurts, forcing each one to exist on its own and be laid at the foot of Your Son's cross.

Amen.

Sunday, March 10, 2019

The Speech His Brother Didn't Hear

There he is, feeding pigs far from home.

Finally humbled in the wake of his foolish adventure, finally broken after breaking his father's heart, the younger son, the one we call The Prodigal, comes to his senses and makes a statement to himself that we read as a model of genuine penitence:

"...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 servants."

When he arrives at home, he manages to deliver most of his rehearsed speech, through his father's embrace, but the speech not only has no effect; it seems not to have even been heard by the father, who doesn't even respond to the words of repentance, but responds only to the fact that his son is finally home.

Whether the son's penitence registers with his father, or whether it even matters, the father's only response is to restore, to leave behind the sorrow and loss he seems to have already forgotten, to celebrate, and to invite everyone within his reach to celebrate with him.

The father embraces his lost son before the speech is given. He isn't waiting for a speech; he's waiting for his son.

Reunion matters; restitution does not.

The older brother doesn't hear the speech, either. He comes along after the celebration is underway, and sees what is undeserved: A party thrown for the one who threw parties; restoration for the one who broke a family apart; lavish spending for the one who spent his inheritance; good standing for the one whose stories of prostitutes made it home before he did.

The older brother doesn't hear the speech, and by his reaction to the celebration, we wonder whether he would have wanted to hear it anyway. It appears with the older brother that reunion might only be possible after restitution has occurred, to his satisfaction, and only then on his terms.

In fairness to the older brother, we'll never know what his reaction might have been had he encountered his younger brother and heard the speech first, rather than walking into a scene of restoration already in full bloom.

But that is a touchy spot:  Who is the speech for? And who has a right to require it? The father, and only the father. Yes, the older brother has been impacted by what the younger brother has done, and impacted not just in a slight way. When the size and health of an estate are in play, people get angry, and to some degree, they have a right to. And yes, we would expect the younger brother, given the opportunity, to apologize also to the older brother, for the impact this caper has had on him.

But the offense still isn't primarily against the older brother. The offense is against the father.

And the father restores without hearing the speech.

He assumes penitence without proof of it.

He embraces first, and kisses without question, because...because this is his child.

The older brother, on the other hand, is unwilling to assume the best about the younger brother's intentions when he happens upon the celebration. In the older brother's eyes, the younger brother is taking advantage of his father all over again, proudly bringing his sin back home, strutting right back to his seat at the table as though nothing had happened.

But this isn't true.

The younger brother is overcome by the shame and grief of what he has done, and has come home asking not to be restored at all, but to be hired on as a servant. The younger brother is just as surprised by his father's restoration as the older brother is appalled by it.

But the older brother doesn't hear the speech, and the future of these brothers' relationship is left to our imagination.

Father, what do we do with this story?

When we stand in the shoes of the older brother, we think of all the ways in which his thinking could be accurate, even though out of sync with Your love:

*The younger brother's penitence might very well be shallow and rooted in the desperation of the moment.

*The younger brother might very well return to his prodigal ways and abuse the father again.

*The older brother's inheritance might very well be diminished by what the younger brother has already done, let alone any future escapade.

*The community might very well judge the family harshly for welcoming back The Prodigal.

We've all had moments when we, like the younger brother, have crawled back home, and been overwhelmed by Your mercy and restoration.

But what about when we are in the older brother's shoes?

How do we reconcile this story of unconditional forgiveness, which we are happy to receive when we need it, with our increasing sensitivity to the pain and loss suffered by those impacted by the folly of others? With our increasing awareness of the need for boundaries to protect loved ones from our selfish decisions? With our concern for the elderly, and how they can be taken advantage of? With the victims of abuse, and how they may not ever be the same, even if their abuser sincerely repents? With the children and grandchildren of these victims, who often repeat patterns they have seen without ever knowing the origin story of their pain? With the barriers to faith so many experience, because they or someone in their family tree was once on the receiving end of some prodigal's foolishness?

How do we reconcile Your knowledge of the heart of every person, Your awareness of our true motives before we even sense them, with the all-too-common reality that we often don't get to hear the speech? With the fact that we may very well walk upon a scene of restoration, and not really know whether the one who caused the break is sincere in the effort to repair, or whether all the mess caused by the break can even be cleaned up to our satisfaction at this point?

With the fact that You are just as willing to restore every other person who has ever lived, who might have done things I don't believe I would ever do, as You are willing to restore me, even though there are people who have been hurt by my sin?

Father, when we are in the shoes of the older brother, help us to trust You, just as we trust You when we are The Prodigal.

Help us to trust that You can see what we cannot see, that You can make a way when we cannot see a way, that Your Spirit can reach those our apologies do not move, that You follow the path of every tear we shed and every tear we cause, that, no matter how deep the pain we feel here, no matter how much we lose at the hands of any foolish Prodigal, it cannot compare with the glory of eternity with You.

Lord, help us to trust Your restoration of The Prodigal, especially when we are the older brother.

Especially when we don't get to hear the speech.