Prodigal

I think he gets a bad rap.  Someone needs to go to bat for the kid that has become the archetype of every person who hits the open road in search of something more than what they have in whatever version of a two-bit cow-town they find themselves. Upon any return to the land of their birth the inevitable phrase rolls from haughty lips with the pleasure of a stolen cupcake.

“So, the PRODIGAL has returned”

Prodigal.  The word conjures up images of a wild child on a drunken binge learning that the good people back home were right - you would never make it out there on your own.  Best be comin’ home, settle down, and stop this fools errand.

There is a couple of things I’ve learned about prodigals this past week.  First of all, the word prodigal doesn’t mean loser or sinner or irresponsible or even lost. It just means lavish…especially where it comes to spending.  It simply means someone who needs to live past the margins and can’t color inside the lines.  Someone who believes the phrase “go big or go home” to a dangerous degree.  It describes a person who hears the call of the road and is constantly wondering what is over that hill in the distance. Whether the term is a positive one or a negative one all depends on who is saying it.

But that’s not the most important thing I learned about prodigals this week.  I learned about love.

Like the prodigal, we all live with labels.  The word prodigal isn’t found in the biblical story.  In fact, the only thing that identifies this kid is one word; son.  Someone, somewhere in the 15th century gave him a label and sermons were preached and books were written about how God loves his boy EVEN THOUGH he was…

…prodigal.

It’s the “even though” that struck me this week.  I’ve heard a lot of “even thoughs” in my life to get the message that I don’t live up to the standards of others.  It sounds nice.

“I’ll let you play even though you stink.”

“I’ll pass you even though you did horribly”

“I’ll love you even though…” (that’s the worst one)

What I notice about the Father in this story (who represents God) was that there was no “even thoughs”.  There was just love.  The father didn’t love this kid “even though” he had squandered his wealth or “even though” he had become an embarrassment or “even though” he was a sinner.  The father says very little, but what he says has more to do with love than a million “even thoughs”.

“My son…is here.”

The father loves his son.  Period.

What I’ve discovered this week is that real love lacks the “even though”.  Someone can look at our journey and the choices we have made and choose to show us love “even though” it’s assumed that our past disqualifies us of love.  We go through with that kind of love feeling small and unworthy and wondering if we should be grateful that we are loved anyway.  It sounds altruistic and charitable.  Like it might be actual love.

What if love is actually different that that. What if love sees the journey and sees us and just loves…well, us. Looking through the eyes of love you see the way one is meant to be seen and realize that they are entirely…

…Beautiful.

I don’t want to be loved “even though”.  I want someone to look straight into my soul and love my entire journey because they know I have been walking toward love the whole time.  I want both haves of me - the sinner and the saint - to be kissed.  They are, after all, me. My journey hasn’t been perfect.  I’ve had days where I’m proud of my actions and days I know I could have done it better and days I should have been locked up. Love looks at me and sees all of me and knows that every moment was spent in the honest pursuit of what comes from the hand of God.

Our message from the younger son of the father is this…

Look for love that sees the real you - and starts running.

Did you hear about Boo?

Did you hear about Boo?

Monday I was sitting in the Plainfield train station waiting for the 8:38 to New York when the conversation turned to the local gossip. There was normal conversation about local politics or neighborhood personalities - until someone said "Did you hear about that kid that got shot?"

It had happened the day before. A young man - in his later 20's and out of jail only recently - was ambushed and shot three times in the chest. He was dead at the scene.

Of course, the discussion turned to an analysis of the "why". Was it a rival gang thing? Did he sleep with someone's girl? Was it an old beef? People love to be sociologists in these moments when the person is just "that kid that got shot".

The young man cleaning the station jumped in and informed the group that he had known him. He had gone to high school with him. I asked for his name. "I didn't know his real name - he went by "Boo".

Then I realized I also had known him.

As a first-year youth pastor I had what most would consider a highly successful youth ministry. Over 100 kids - mostly from the neighborhood - came to our Wednesday night meeting. They played basketball, hung out, played in our "game room", and heard the gospel. Boo was one of those kids. He wasn't a "core" kid - he was the sometimes boyfriend of one of the girls who came every week. I knew him enough to say hello...but that was about it.

In those days - if I was honest - I thought that my youth program was enough. There were a ton of kids and the gospel. They had fun, I worked hard on the program and room, and occasionally I went somewhere outside of the church where kids were.

Somehow a kid, a kid named Boo, came into my ministry and left without ever having developed a relationship with a man who loved Jesus and loved him.

We have the power to rewrite the story of kids' life. Boo's story (though there is so much more) will ever be one sentence "that kid that got shot". God had a different story. God wanted him to be "Boo - man for whom love has replaced fear, who loves a wife and children, who is working to change his community, who lives at peace with his God and neighbors." His story could have been different.

I wonder how many kids like this are in our ministries? Maybe we won't have such a dramatic story - but there are kids for whom you are going to re-write their script. Our job is to help them see that the version of their life is a tragedy when God wants to write an action-adventure with a dose of romance.

This week ask God to make Boo's life matter by allowing us to never let kids come and go when it's in our power to walk with them and make a difference. May we never be satisfied with our programs when God has called us to ministry.

Be blessed this week.