Irresistible Invitation by Maxie Dunham - Day 5
Irresistible Invitation
Day 5: COMING HOME
Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom.
Luke 12:32
Have you ever heard the one about the unhappy nun? No, it's not a joke. It's a story I read some time ago, and if you're already wondering what it could possibly have to do with your life, I hope you'll let me explain.
This nun had been raised in a very strict Catholic home. She had attended a parochial school, and all during those formative years of her life, she was terrified of the all-seeing eye of God. Her parents and her teachers had taught her that God was watching her all of the time. Unfortunately, they used the concept to frighten her into good behavior and to make sure she never got out of line. As a result, by the time she was an adult, she was a very fearful, intimidated person.
One day she was talking with another nun, a beautiful, happy person who had not grown up in a negative environment at all. She told this nun about her story and about how frightened she was of that eye of God that was watching her all of the time. But the other nun's sensitive and wise response was this: "Oh, my sister, you've got it wrong. God does see you all of the time, but do you know why? It is because he just can't take his eyes off of you!"
How clearly this nun understood the gospel. How sad that so many of us relate more to the first nun than the second, holding tight to a harmful and punitive understanding of God. We may not be conscious of it, but we often picture God as a judge, policeman, or prosecuting attorney. Admittedly, there are Scripture passages that suggest such an understanding. But the dominant witness of the Bible says something else: God is good, caring for people as a father or mother, offering grace, forgiveness, love, acceptance, and even new life with a generosity that can sometimes be hard to comprehend.
Again, that's exactly what this book is about-God's extravagant love. God's generous nature is not just a big picture theory; it can be relevant and empowering every day of our lives, allowing us not only to give more of ourselves, but also to receive all that God has for us.
For some, this is a challenging concept. Like that nun, we may believe instead that God is out to get us. With that, we choose not to accept God's forgiveness, and find it terribly difficult, even next to impossible, to forgive ourselves for our failings, too. As a result, we spend endless days wandering, thinking there must be more, that we somehow could-or should-be better husbands or wives or sons or daughters or church members or friends or employees or Christians, but not having any idea about how to make it happen.
It can be a devastatingly painful life when we can't forgive ourselves for something we have done or something that has happened to us. Worse yet, it can keep us so focused on ourselves that we miss the ways God wants to use us in the lives of those around us. If we don't fully understand God's goodness, we'll be hard-pressed to pass it on to anyone else. Our Christian walk will be, at best, a hobbling one.
NO LIMITS
It is true that sometimes goodness can be produced by less than righteous folk, even evil persons. We can, however, expect limitless goodness from God. We talk a lot about the mystery of evil; what about the mystery of goodness? We receive daily gifts of God's grace, poured out freely without regard for our merit. God still makes the sun shine on the evil and the good, and the rain fall on the just and the unjust. But even more mysterious is God's Spirit at work bringing good out of the actions of weak, fallible, and sinful human beings. Joseph recognized that mystery when he confronted his brothers, who had sold him into slavery in Egypt. Joseph said, "You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives" (Gen. 50:20).
These days, though, acts of kindness, mercy, and generosity rarely become news. We live in a time when newspaper headlines and television news shows are dominated by stories about deceit, selfishness, immorality, corruption, catastrophe, murder, rape, drunkenness, hatred, and suspicion. Through some perverted sense of the dramatic, it is assumed that evil alone is news. This point of view warps our judgment and leads us to the pessimistic view that there is little good left in the world, and that few people have the capacity for goodness. To be sure, if we know our own hearts, we cannot deny the existence of evil, but we also cannot deny the presence of goodness.
Both are illustrated in the often-told story of the prodigal son, found in Luke 15. It's a familiar tale, and may even resemble our own. The son ran away from home, only to squander his wealth. Yet no matter how far that son wandered, God was in that far country, too, continuing to extend his hand no matter how evil the son had become. How do we know? First, the prodigal realized that he was in need. God's grace awakens us to our need, and that awakening is the first step toward our repentance and recovery. Second, the prodigal found a way to survive until he could decide what to do next: "So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs " (v. 15). No work could have been more loathsome to a Jew, but this young man wanted to live. God gives us the will to live. But still the prodigal's situation was desperate. "He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything" (v. 16). So finally, when the prodigal fully realized where he was and what he had become, "he came to his senses"-and that was a supreme act of God's grace.
When we come to our senses, we face the life and death decision of, "What shall I do now?" The prodigal remembered his father and his father's house, so that's where he went. . . back home.
There has been debate about whether this son was truly penitent. Was he still motivated by self-interest, combined with the memory of where he could get three square meals a day? He probably didn't know himself. Can any of us be absolutely certain about our motives? Most sins provide some attraction or satisfaction, or we wouldn't indulge in them. To focus on our sins and to search our souls trying to convince ourselves that we are truly sorry for every moment of sinfulness, however, is not helpful. The important thing is to turn away from sin and to turn toward Jesus. The word convert means literally "to turn around." The important thing here is that this young man turned around, left the far country, and returned to his father. There comes a time to leave the past behind.
DAD ON THE DOORSTEP
You may find yourself at such a crossroads, and you may wonder what the reaction of your "father" will be. In the case of the prodigal son, he had enough recognition of his wrongdoing to rehearse his speech of confession. But instead of building on this good work of reform already begun, the father completely ignored it. How consistent that is with the God of Paul's testimony in Romans: "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (5:8). Paul goes on to describe how that love works to lead us into new life. "For if, when we were God's enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!" (v. 10). The saving work begins when we return to the Father's house and are received with open arms.
In seeking to understand God's love, then, we must also understand that he wants to share that love with us. And we must be willing to turn around, wherever we are, and approach that doorstep of grace. David did so with an anguished cry for forgiveness in Psalm 51:
Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love;
according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions.
Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.
For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me. . . .
Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me. (vv. 1-3, 10-12)
Do you feel the throbbing intensity of that prayer? There is nothing perfunctory about it. It is no surface recitation of some pious words. There are no pet phrases packaged mechanically together and tied with the dainty ribbon, "In Jesus' name, Amen." This is true prayer, the heart-cry of a broken man, one who knew his need for God.
Ancient editors say that Psalm 51 is David's plea after he had faced up to his blatant sin with Bathsheba. The prophet Nathan confronted David with his lust, adultery, intrigue, pretense, and shame. He reminded David of how he had schemed to get his trusted servant Uriah murdered. The king of Israel had deliberately broken five of the Ten Commandments.
At that point, David had no escape; the secret was out. Yet as we read the psalm, we feel that there was a kind of relief. The hidden thing had surfaced. The cancer that was eating David's soul away was now exposed and labeled for what it was. The need for subterfuge and deception was over.
Finally letting go, it seems, brings the relief of no longer having to hide and no longer having to lie. That's the meaning of confession: the end of pretension, the coming out of hiding.
Today, then, is a day for all of us to do the same. Finding the extravagant love of God-and stepping into the reality that yes, there really is more to life-begins with the simple choice to believe that God is for us and not against us. God's love is greater than we can imagine. It is greater than our sin. And his willingness to forgive is the open door to a new life. Shall we approach the doorstep together?
THE HEART OF THE MATTER
~ When you hear the story of the prodigal son, found in Luke 15, how do you feel? Do you identify with the son, the father, or even the older brother who is challenged by the prodigal's return? How so?
~ Are there any challenges in your life that might be hindering you from coming home to the open arms of the Father? If so, how do you think you can overcome them?
~ Are you more likely to think of God as demanding and punitive, or loving and good? Why do you think that is? Give an example of a time you experienced the goodness of God.
Day 5: COMING HOME
Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom.
Luke 12:32
Have you ever heard the one about the unhappy nun? No, it's not a joke. It's a story I read some time ago, and if you're already wondering what it could possibly have to do with your life, I hope you'll let me explain.
This nun had been raised in a very strict Catholic home. She had attended a parochial school, and all during those formative years of her life, she was terrified of the all-seeing eye of God. Her parents and her teachers had taught her that God was watching her all of the time. Unfortunately, they used the concept to frighten her into good behavior and to make sure she never got out of line. As a result, by the time she was an adult, she was a very fearful, intimidated person.
One day she was talking with another nun, a beautiful, happy person who had not grown up in a negative environment at all. She told this nun about her story and about how frightened she was of that eye of God that was watching her all of the time. But the other nun's sensitive and wise response was this: "Oh, my sister, you've got it wrong. God does see you all of the time, but do you know why? It is because he just can't take his eyes off of you!"
How clearly this nun understood the gospel. How sad that so many of us relate more to the first nun than the second, holding tight to a harmful and punitive understanding of God. We may not be conscious of it, but we often picture God as a judge, policeman, or prosecuting attorney. Admittedly, there are Scripture passages that suggest such an understanding. But the dominant witness of the Bible says something else: God is good, caring for people as a father or mother, offering grace, forgiveness, love, acceptance, and even new life with a generosity that can sometimes be hard to comprehend.
Again, that's exactly what this book is about-God's extravagant love. God's generous nature is not just a big picture theory; it can be relevant and empowering every day of our lives, allowing us not only to give more of ourselves, but also to receive all that God has for us.
For some, this is a challenging concept. Like that nun, we may believe instead that God is out to get us. With that, we choose not to accept God's forgiveness, and find it terribly difficult, even next to impossible, to forgive ourselves for our failings, too. As a result, we spend endless days wandering, thinking there must be more, that we somehow could-or should-be better husbands or wives or sons or daughters or church members or friends or employees or Christians, but not having any idea about how to make it happen.
It can be a devastatingly painful life when we can't forgive ourselves for something we have done or something that has happened to us. Worse yet, it can keep us so focused on ourselves that we miss the ways God wants to use us in the lives of those around us. If we don't fully understand God's goodness, we'll be hard-pressed to pass it on to anyone else. Our Christian walk will be, at best, a hobbling one.
NO LIMITS
It is true that sometimes goodness can be produced by less than righteous folk, even evil persons. We can, however, expect limitless goodness from God. We talk a lot about the mystery of evil; what about the mystery of goodness? We receive daily gifts of God's grace, poured out freely without regard for our merit. God still makes the sun shine on the evil and the good, and the rain fall on the just and the unjust. But even more mysterious is God's Spirit at work bringing good out of the actions of weak, fallible, and sinful human beings. Joseph recognized that mystery when he confronted his brothers, who had sold him into slavery in Egypt. Joseph said, "You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives" (Gen. 50:20).
These days, though, acts of kindness, mercy, and generosity rarely become news. We live in a time when newspaper headlines and television news shows are dominated by stories about deceit, selfishness, immorality, corruption, catastrophe, murder, rape, drunkenness, hatred, and suspicion. Through some perverted sense of the dramatic, it is assumed that evil alone is news. This point of view warps our judgment and leads us to the pessimistic view that there is little good left in the world, and that few people have the capacity for goodness. To be sure, if we know our own hearts, we cannot deny the existence of evil, but we also cannot deny the presence of goodness.
Both are illustrated in the often-told story of the prodigal son, found in Luke 15. It's a familiar tale, and may even resemble our own. The son ran away from home, only to squander his wealth. Yet no matter how far that son wandered, God was in that far country, too, continuing to extend his hand no matter how evil the son had become. How do we know? First, the prodigal realized that he was in need. God's grace awakens us to our need, and that awakening is the first step toward our repentance and recovery. Second, the prodigal found a way to survive until he could decide what to do next: "So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs " (v. 15). No work could have been more loathsome to a Jew, but this young man wanted to live. God gives us the will to live. But still the prodigal's situation was desperate. "He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything" (v. 16). So finally, when the prodigal fully realized where he was and what he had become, "he came to his senses"-and that was a supreme act of God's grace.
When we come to our senses, we face the life and death decision of, "What shall I do now?" The prodigal remembered his father and his father's house, so that's where he went. . . back home.
There has been debate about whether this son was truly penitent. Was he still motivated by self-interest, combined with the memory of where he could get three square meals a day? He probably didn't know himself. Can any of us be absolutely certain about our motives? Most sins provide some attraction or satisfaction, or we wouldn't indulge in them. To focus on our sins and to search our souls trying to convince ourselves that we are truly sorry for every moment of sinfulness, however, is not helpful. The important thing is to turn away from sin and to turn toward Jesus. The word convert means literally "to turn around." The important thing here is that this young man turned around, left the far country, and returned to his father. There comes a time to leave the past behind.
DAD ON THE DOORSTEP
You may find yourself at such a crossroads, and you may wonder what the reaction of your "father" will be. In the case of the prodigal son, he had enough recognition of his wrongdoing to rehearse his speech of confession. But instead of building on this good work of reform already begun, the father completely ignored it. How consistent that is with the God of Paul's testimony in Romans: "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (5:8). Paul goes on to describe how that love works to lead us into new life. "For if, when we were God's enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!" (v. 10). The saving work begins when we return to the Father's house and are received with open arms.
In seeking to understand God's love, then, we must also understand that he wants to share that love with us. And we must be willing to turn around, wherever we are, and approach that doorstep of grace. David did so with an anguished cry for forgiveness in Psalm 51:
Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love;
according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions.
Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.
For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me. . . .
Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me. (vv. 1-3, 10-12)
Do you feel the throbbing intensity of that prayer? There is nothing perfunctory about it. It is no surface recitation of some pious words. There are no pet phrases packaged mechanically together and tied with the dainty ribbon, "In Jesus' name, Amen." This is true prayer, the heart-cry of a broken man, one who knew his need for God.
Ancient editors say that Psalm 51 is David's plea after he had faced up to his blatant sin with Bathsheba. The prophet Nathan confronted David with his lust, adultery, intrigue, pretense, and shame. He reminded David of how he had schemed to get his trusted servant Uriah murdered. The king of Israel had deliberately broken five of the Ten Commandments.
At that point, David had no escape; the secret was out. Yet as we read the psalm, we feel that there was a kind of relief. The hidden thing had surfaced. The cancer that was eating David's soul away was now exposed and labeled for what it was. The need for subterfuge and deception was over.
Finally letting go, it seems, brings the relief of no longer having to hide and no longer having to lie. That's the meaning of confession: the end of pretension, the coming out of hiding.
Today, then, is a day for all of us to do the same. Finding the extravagant love of God-and stepping into the reality that yes, there really is more to life-begins with the simple choice to believe that God is for us and not against us. God's love is greater than we can imagine. It is greater than our sin. And his willingness to forgive is the open door to a new life. Shall we approach the doorstep together?
THE HEART OF THE MATTER
~ When you hear the story of the prodigal son, found in Luke 15, how do you feel? Do you identify with the son, the father, or even the older brother who is challenged by the prodigal's return? How so?
~ Are there any challenges in your life that might be hindering you from coming home to the open arms of the Father? If so, how do you think you can overcome them?
~ Are you more likely to think of God as demanding and punitive, or loving and good? Why do you think that is? Give an example of a time you experienced the goodness of God.
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