Our Forgiving Father Celebrates with Us

In Luke 15:22-32, the greatest artist who ever lived readies His brush to paint the final scene in the greatest story ever told. It’s the scene depicting our celebration with our forgiving Father. Ten times in this one chapter we discover words for celebration. Tony Campolo is right when he proclaims that “the Kingdom of God is a party!”

The father is beside himself with glee. There’s music and there’s dancing. Jesus paints His Father’s portrait in vivid, living colors. Splashes of joy here. Gallons of cheer over there. Broad brush strokes of rejoicing all over the canvas. The father even tells the older son that they had to celebrate and be glad. There are few things our sovereign God has to do, but celebration is one of them. Our forgiving Father will not contain His joy!

We’re stunned at the thought that God has a good time. This party in Luke 15 stuns both sons. The younger son, the Prodigal as we know him, is a lot like us. We mess up, and then we rehearse our imaginary dialogue in our minds—a dialogue of shame. The prodigal practices his speech all the way home. Like a mantra, he repeats it slowly, robotically. “I’ve sinned against you and I’m unworthy to be called your son. Make me like one of your hired servants.” Over and over again.

The hired servants occupied the lowest rung on the relational totem poll of the day. The son is saying, “I am not only not worthy to be your son, I’m not worthy to be your slave, or your servant even. I am only worthy of being your temporary hired servant.”

So ingrained is his unworthiness in his soul, that he gives his entire speech to his father! His father has raced out to him, is kissing him and celebrating over him, and this guy is still droning on with his speech. “I—–am—–not—–worthy . . .”

Notice how the father responds in verses 22-24 “Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found. So they began to celebrate.” The father is saying, “Let’s party hardy! The guest of honor at my party is my son, not my hired servant.” Our heavenly Father prepares a celebration reserved for His most special of guests: you and me whenever we return home.

The Big Question: “Who Do I Have to Forgive Me?”

Marghanita Laski, secular humanist and novelist, wrote just before her death in 1988, “What I envy most about you Christians is your forgiveness; I have nobody to forgive me.”

As you wait for the other shoe to drop, realize it already dropped on Christ. As you wait for the hammer to fall, realize it already fell on Christ. Whenever we return home, we have Somebody to forgive us.

We’re all prodigal sons and daughters—runaways—and yet we’re not disinherited, not disowned, never forsaken. Because of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection for our sin, we have peace with God. We’re God’s children. Our Father forgives us, loves us, wants us, celebrates with us!

Like a constant magnet, the forgiving heart of our Father draws us home—home to celebrate. Put your ear to the chest of Christ to hear the heartbeat of God—the heartbeat of our Forgiving Father.

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Do you hear your Father’s “Welcome home!” Do you hear His voice of forgiveness? Are you returning home to receive His grace and love today? Everyday? Every moment?

Our Forgiving Father Embraces Us

In the Parable of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15:20, the father sees his younger son, is filled with compassion, runs to him, throws his arms around him, and kisses him repeatedly! This is not the biblical image of God that most committed Christians maintain. Somehow we have bought the lie that God is aloof, distant, uncaring, non-relational.

Personally, I bought that lie for years. In fact, I had been a Bible college graduate, a seminary graduate, and I was in my second pastoral ministry before I finally began to grasp God’s grace and love for me. I knew that God forgave me, but I pictured Him only like a Judge Who says, “You’re forgiven, now get out of My court room!” I thought God forgave me, but I didn’t realize that He really loved me, wanted me, liked me.

It took me years as a Christian finally to understand that God is not only my forgiving Judge; He’s also my forgiving Father. Slowly, little by little, I began to get it. So that now I see God as my Father Who says, “I forgive you because I love you. I love you so much that I gave My only Son to die for you. That’s how much I long for a relationship with you!”

And you? Do you believe that the God of the universe races to you impetuously, overjoyed and delighted to see you, falling down on your neck to embrace you, eagerly throwing Himself upon you, pressing His chest close to yours, and kissing you repeatedly? Do you get it that God is not only your forgiving Judge; He is also your forgiving Father Who loves you passionately, Who likes you, Who wants a relationship with you?

If we think of this theologically, Jesus is picturing not only justification, but also reconciliation. In justification, the Bible teaches us that God the just Judge forgives us our sins because He has placed on sins on Christ and He has placed Christ’s righteousness on us. That’s the amazing grace of justification. But there’s more to the biblical story of our salvation. That “more” includes reconciliation. The just Judge takes off His Judge’s robes and puts on His fatherly attire. We move from the courtroom to the living room. The Judge Who forgives us is also our Father Who loves us, Who invites us into His home, into intimate relationship with Himself.

Throughout this parable, Jesus is saying, “Look, look at the Father! Look at Him for the first time all over again. This is why I died. This is why I rose again. The Father longed to build a bridge over which He would run to you and throw His arms around you, embracing you, encompassing you, engulfing you with His forgiving love!”

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Have you bought the lie, also? Is your image of God biblical or sub-biblical?

“Our Forgiving Father”—Luke 15:11-32

Note: The following is the opening illustration for my Sunday sermon on Our Forgiving Father from Luke 15:11-32. Who do you have to forgive you?

The Big Idea: Put your ear to the chest of Christ to hear the heartbeat of God—the heartbeat of our FORGIVING FATHER.

The Big Picture: “Unforgiven”

The 1992 Western, Unforgiven, directed, produced, and starring Clint Eastwood, is a dark parable of the driven, unforgiven mood of our fearful age. This grim and gritty film accurately portrays the despair and emptiness of the human heart in need of grace.

Eastwood plays the aging gunslinger, Will Munny. In his younger, wilder days, Munny had killed many men. But, as the film opens, we meet a Will Munny who is no longer a gunslinger. He has been reformed by the love of a good woman, his wife, Claudia. She helped him give up whiskey and hang up his guns, but now Claudia is dead, killed by smallpox. Grieving, poor, and debt-ridden, Munny tries to eke out a living for himself and his two children as a pig farmer on the Kansas plains.

Then one day, a brash young gunslinger calling himself, “the Schofield Kid” rides into town to remind Will Munny of his ugly past.

“I hear tell you’ve killed a lot of men,” the Kid tells him. “Well, up in Wyoming, there’s $1,000 to be had for killing two cowboys. Seems one of ‘em got mad at a woman and slashed up her face. The other ladies in that establishment have posted bounty on the heads of those two cowboys. If you come with me, we can kill those boys and split the reward.”

“No,” Munny replies, honoring the wishes of his dead wife. “No more killin’ for me. I ain’t like that anymore, Kid.” The Kid rides off alone. But then Munny begins to think. “How are my children going to live? How will I pay off this debt? My split of that money sure would go a long way.”

So he straps on his gun, and he and his friend, Ned, ride off to catch up with the Schofield Kid. As they ride together, the Kid, who is fascinated by Munny’s reputation as a killer, pumps him for stories of his past. But Munny doesn’t want to remember his past sins. “I ain’t like that anymore,” he keeps repeating to Ned, the Kid, and to himself, denying the obvious question, “If he ‘ain’t like that anymore,’ then why is he riding off to Wyoming to kill a couple of cowboys?”

Together, they track down the two cowboys. Munny shoots one of them, a fresh-faced boy named Davey. It’s a grisly scene. Later, the Kid shoots the other cowboy—Quick Mike. It’s a cold-blooded killing of an unarmed man.

Later, the killings accomplished, Munny and the Kid sit under a tree outside of town waiting for their reward money. While they wait; they talk. The Kid is full of remorse and in tears. His earlier fascination with killing has evaporated now that he has actually killed a man.

Munny, whose soul is stained with the blood of countless men, says, “Terrible thing, killing a man. You take away all he’s got and all he’s ever gonna’ have.” “Yeah,” says the Kid, his voice choking. “Well I guess they had it comin’.” Munny looks back at him coldly, and then says, “We all have it comin’, Kid.”

It’s a dark moment in a dark film. Munny’s terse comment—“We all have it comin’”—is the statement of a man who can’t escape his past, his sin, or his guilt. It’s the statement of a damned soul. The title is fitting: Unforgiven. For this film is about guilt and retribution. Everyone in the film is guilty: the two dead cowboys, the sheriff played by Gene Hackman, Ned, the Schofield Kid, Will Munny. In the end, everyone is guilty, but no one is forgiven.

Unforgiven won four Academy Awards, including best picture. Why? The answer is simple. It touches the very nerve center of our soul. We’re all guilty. And we all need to hear the story of our Father’s forgiveness. We all long to experience the thrill of our forgiving Father’s welcoming embrace. Each of us, in our unique way, is a prodigal wandering far from home. Each of us longs for our homecoming.

Jesus addresses our longing in Luke 15. As a master artist, He paints a beautiful portrait of our forgiving Father. As we listen to Jesus’ parable of the prodigal son, we learn to put our ear to the chest of Christ to hear the heartbeat of God—the heartbeat of our FORGIVING FATHER.

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Are you living an unforgiven or a forgiven life?

Tiger Woods and Forgiveness

With Tiger Woods’ return to the golf world at the Masters in Augusta, issues of sin, grace, and forgiveness are back in the news. Masters’ chairman, Billy Payne, took it upon himself to admonish Tiger yet again. Confronting his past behavior with blunt criticism, Payne told the media, “It is simply not the degree of his conduct that is so egregious here. It is the fact that he disappointed all of us and more importantly, our kids and our grandkids. Our here did not live up to the expectations of the role model we saw for our children.”

Forgiveness

While no one should excuse Tigers’ sin against God and his family, and while as Christian we know that Tiger needs the grace only available in Christ, when is enough enough? When is further public confrontation simply piling on and, in reality, self-serving moralism?

The answers to these questions are not just cultural issues, they are biblical issues—issues of sin, grace, and forgiveness. We find these vital matters powerfully played out in an amazing way in 2 Corinthians 2:5-11. In this passage, the Apostle Paul reflects back on a young man he challenged the Corinthians to confront in 1 Corinthians 5:1-5. Godly sorrow prompted repentance. But the worldly Corinthians were unforgiving. Notice Paul’s response:

“Now instead, you ought to forgive him and comfort him so that he will not be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow. I urge you, therefore, to reaffirm your love for him.”

Then Paul explains why we must lighten the conscience with Christ’s grace.

“In order that Satan might not outwit us. For we are not unaware of his schemes.”

Condemnation is a primary scheme of Satan. Satan first tempts us to sin saying, “God is not good, do as you please.” He then condemns us for sinning, saying, “How could you have sinned against God? He will never forgive a sinner like you!” It’s the old bait and switch.

When we are unforgiving, when we are Pharisaical and judgmental with one another, when we pile on by heaping guilt upon guilt, then we’ve joined Satan’s grand scheme of condemning the conscience. We end up overwhelming people with excessive sorrow.

Words of Wisdom from a Master Pastor

The great Reformer and master pastor, Martin Luther, understood Satan’s scheme. In one of Luther’s letters of spiritual consolation, he wrote a friend who was wracked with guilt. In the letter, Luther addresses and confronts Satan, and in doing so, describes the magnitude of Christ’s grace.

“You say that the sins which we commit every day offend God, and therefore we are not saints. To this I reply: Mother love is stronger than the filth and scabbiness on a child, and so the love of God toward us is stronger than the dirt that clings to us.”

Luther’s words remind us of the model portrayed in Les Miserables. Jean val Jean is a paroled criminal who can’t find work or redemption in any form. He finds himself at the mercy of a man of God who feeds and hosts him. But old ways die hard and Jean val Jean steals from this priest. The next day the police return Jean val Jean to the priest’s home. Expecting judgment, the priest tells the police, and Jean val Jean, “He forgot the best I had. He left without these golden candlesticks.”

Acquitted by the priest, the police release Jean val Jean. The priest then looks him in the eyes and tells him that he must use this experience of grace to be a better man. From that moment on another story begins for Jean val Jean—a grace-based story.

There are as many opinions on Tiger Woods as there are people. However, the perspective that should shape our opinion is no opinion at all—it’s God’s authoritative Word. Yes, as Christians, we all know that Tiger needs the grace and forgiveness of Christ. However, continued heaping on of guilt over past sin will not draw a person to Christ. Instead, it will overwhelm that person with excessive sorrow. With Tiger Woods, and with one another, are we dispensers of Christ’s grace, or of Satan’s condemnation?

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How should a Christian respond to Tiger Woods?

“Our Forgiving Father”—Luke 15

Part 5: “Welcome Home!”

Welcome: Thanks for reading my Passion Week blog series as we reflect together on Our Forgiving Father. Today in Part 5, we hear the words our heart longs for from our heavenly Father, “Welcome home!” When we put our ear to the chest of Christ we hear the heartbeat of God—the heartbeat of our Forgiving Father.

Part 5: “Welcome Home!”: Luke 15:20-32

Our Forgiving Father Embraces Us: Luke 15:20

Jesus continues describing the father’s response to his prodigal son who has come home. The father sees his son, is filled with compassion, runs to him, throws his arms around him, and kisses him repeatedly! This is not the biblical image of God that most Christians maintain. Somehow we have bought the lie that God is aloof, non-passionate, non-relational.

Many have no recollection of their earthly father ever lavishing them with such a display of unshackled affection. We long for it, but it is foreign to us. So it seems strange for us to imagine the God of the universe racing to us passionately, overjoyed and delighted to see us, clinging to our neck to embrace us, eagerly throwing Himself upon us, pressing His chest close to ours, and kissing us repeatedly—covering us with kisses.

I don’t know about you, but at times I find this hard to fathom. When I’m honest, I can admit that I feel like my former counselee—some of my sins just seem too deep even for the love of God to reach them. I feel like Bill Munny—guilty but unforgiven.

That’s why throughout this parable, Jesus is saying to us, “Look, look at the Father! Look at Him for the first time all over again. This is why I died. This is why I rose again. The Father longed to build a bridge over which He could run to you, and throw His arms around you, embracing you, encompassing, engulfing you with His forgiving love!”

Our Forgiving Father Celebrates With Us: Luke 15:22-32

The greatest artist Who ever lived readies His brush to paint the final scene in the greatest story ever told. It is the scene depicting our celebration with our forgiving Father. No less than ten times in this one chapter, we discover words for celebration. Tony Campolo is right when he proclaims that “the Kingdom of God is a party!” The father is beside himself with glee. There’s music and there’s dancing. Jesus paints His Father’s portrait in vivid, living colors. Splashes of joy here. Gallons of cheer over there. Broad brush strokes of rejoicing all over the canvas. The father even tells the older son that they had to celebrate and be glad.

There are few things our sovereign God “has” to do, but celebration is one of them—it is central to His very nature to rejoice when a sinner has come home. Our forgiving Father will not stifle His joy!

We’re astonished at the thought that God has a good time. This party in Luke 15 stuns both sons. The younger son, the prodigal as we know him, is a lot like you and me. We mess up, and then we rehearse our imaginary dialogue in our minds—a dialogue of shame. The prodigal practices his speech all the way home. “I’ve sinned against you and I’m unworthy to be called your son. Make me like one of your hired servants.” He repeats it over and over again like a never ending round. The hired servants occupied the lowest rung on the relational totem poll of the day. The son is saying, “I am not only not worthy to be your son, I’m not worthy to be your slave, or your servant even. I am only worthy of being your temporary hired servant.”

So ingrained is his unworthiness in his soul, that he gives his entire speech to his father! His father has raced out to him, is kissing him and celebrating over him, and this guy is still droning on with his speech. “I—–am—–not—–worthy. . .” The father reacts! “Forget that! Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found. So they began to celebrate” (15:22-24). The father is saying, “The guest of honor at my party is my son, not my hired servant.” The Father prepares a celebration reserved for His most special of guests: you and me whenever we return home.

The Rest of the Story: The Big Question—“Who Do I Have to Forgive Me?”

As we wait for the other shoe to drop, realize it already dropped on Christ. As we wait for the hammer to fall, realize it already fell on Christ. We are restored, and as a result, we have peace with God. We are all prodigal sons and daughters, and yet not disinherited. We have received our portion, misspent it, but not been denied it. We are God’s tenants here, He is our landlord, pays our rent, not yearly, nor monthly, but hourly, and quarterly; every minute He renews His mercy.

Marghanita Laski, secular humanist and novelist, wrote just before her death in 1988, “What I envy most about you Christians is your forgiveness; I have nobody to forgive me.”

Whenever we return home, we have Somebody to forgive us. Like an irresistible magnet, the forgiving heart of our Father draws us home—home to celebrate. Put your ear to the chest of Christ to hear the heartbeat of God—the heartbeat of our Forgiving Father.

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Do you have anybody to forgive you?

“Our Forgiving Father”—Luke 15

Part 4: Returning Home

Welcome: Thanks for reading my Passion Week blog series as we reflect together on Our Forgiving Father. Today in Part 4, we see Jesus’ portrait of a prodigal returning home to the Forgiving One. We put our ear to the chest of Christ to hear the heartbeat of God—the heartbeat of our Forgiving Father.

Part 4: Returning Home: Luke 15:15-20

The younger son recognizes what the elder son will not. Having spent everything, the prodigal son is in great need. Physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually he’s at the end of his rope. With a few vivid details, Jesus portrays the depths to which the son falls as he is initiated into the world of moral consequences.

“So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything” (15:15-16). Culturally, the Jews saw swine as unclean animals. To eat the food of pigs is to be reduced to a sub-human level. Even this was denied to him.

When We Come to the End of Our Rope, We Come to Our Senses

When he came to the end of his rope, he came to his senses. “When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired men have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! I will set out and go back to my father and say 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.’ So he got up and went to his father” (15:17-20a).

J. C. Penny, the famous millionaire store owner, also came to his senses when he came to the end of his rope. Penny was seriously depressed as a young man. He tells of being confined in a mental hospital suffering such severe depression that the doctors had given up on him. One morning, on hearing a commotion down the hall, he put on his bathrobe and found his way to the chapel where people were singing about putting their trust in the Lord. Penny was the son of a Baptist preacher. He knew all about Jesus and decided now to trust Him. His whole life changed, and from that point until his death at 95, the Lord was the center of his life. Lost and found.

The son is like J.C. Penny. He repents. He returns. He comes home.

But the crucial question remains. Was the woman I was counseling right when she said, “Some sins are so deep that even the love of God can’t touch them”? Is Clint Eastwood right? Is everyone guilty and no one forgiven? Does the Father really welcome sinners? Does He receive worldly sinners? Does He accept self-righteous sinners?

Yes! Of course He does! Being welcomed home with open arms is exactly what Christ’s parable is all about. Now is the time to put our ears on the chest of Christ to hear the heartbeat of God—the heartbeat of our forgiving Father.

Our Forgiving Father Pursues Us: Luke 15:20, 28

Head down, guilt stricken, the prodigal slumps home to the father. Head high, love motivated, the father sprints to his son, throws his arms around him, and kisses him repeatedly! So very different from the Middle Eastern expectation. Listen again to Ken Bailey’s interview.

“And what would happen if the boy came back home, penniless, hungry, and broken?” The Middle Eastern reply: “The father would certainly not run to him and receive him! The father would stay hidden for a while and make the son eat humble pie outside the gate of the village.”

This is not what occurs in Jesus’ story. The father, our Father, runs to his son. “Run” literally means to sprint to, to rush, and to race. He forgets his dignity. He forgets the insult and disrespect his son had shown him. He doesn’t care what others might think. He doesn’t care that his peers will call him an old fool. No! He picks up his flowing robe and races to his son!

But we see something even before this. “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him.” How? Why? Jesus is painting a picture of a father who listens to every noise, every sound. “A traveler. Could it be my son?” He is vigilantly on the lookout. He hears that sound and his eyes spy out the terrain . . . “He’s about his size, it might be him.” But crestfallen day after day, because yet another traveler is not his son. Until today. Today his lost son is found! Today his dead son is resurrected.

And he sprints to his son. In no other religion anywhere on the planet does one come to know God as the Racing One; as the Pursuing One.

He does the same with the eldest son. Listen, “The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him” (Luke 15:28). In no other religion anywhere in the world does one come to know God as the Pleading One; the Wooing One.

When you blow it yet again. When that besetting sin gets the best of you for the umpteenth time. When spiritual defeat seems your constant companion. When Satan convinces you that the Father is tired of you. Return to your pursuing Father. To the Racing One, the Pursuing One, to the Pleading One, the Wooing One. He’s the Father we each long for; the Father Who wants us, welcomes us, forgives us as He pursues us. Return to the Forgiving One.

The Rest of the Story

This is great news. But the best is yet to come. Be sure to join me in Part 5 as we hear the most amazing words imaginable, “Welcome home!”

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What is keeping you from returning home to the Forgiving One?