Celebrate the prodigal too quickly
I thought some more about the prodigal today. I have read and heard that story on countless occasions. As a child who longs for grace, unconditional Agape love, I cheer, with all Christians, for the prodigal and his father. We never grow tired of hearing this parable, and we cheer with delight in our hearts at the sight of the fathers unconditional embrace and the prodigal's humility. We imagine the prodigal's poverty and leap for joy at the prodigal's humble return. We see the prodigal lag his way home and watch the Father run to his battered and poor son. We go on the Father's joyful demand to get IPA and T-bone steaks with excellent joy for the prodigal's return. We read with great joy. We cheer for the prodigal.
We live like the older brother. When the story is read and enjoyed, I walk past drunken homeless people on the streets. After the thrilling STORY is over, I get pissed off at the people around me. I weep for joy at the prodigal's return home to loving arms, and then I write a scathing status update to someone. I get all caught up in the greatest PLOT of grace and unconditional love ever uttered or written, and I have the hardest time accepting continued mistakes and life patterns in my own family members.
I work hard to be the best Christian I can be for crying out loud, and here are all these people around me who aren't even trying. Here are all those people who do not understand that I am a Christian who wants to be all I can be, and they just go on like it doesn't make a difference. I believe in a God of unconditional love and grace and I loath the congregations who don't get it right. I am the prodigal here...not them!
Right?
It is not just a parable. It is not just a fictional thriller to read and put back on the shelf until the next time. It is a story that serves as a humbling reflection of the reality we live every day. Like every parable, it is easy to associate myself with the good guy, the hero, but I can ALWAYS equally associate myself with the villian.
My heart breaks when I realize I cheer for the prodigal and live like the older brother.