The Prodigal Son

The parable of The Prodigal Son in the gospel of Luke was read at church on Easter Sunday. It is, the fifth time within a year that this parable has been brought to my attention. Less than a year ago I went to my parents' church to help with the youth service, the theme of which was The Prodigal Son. I was the narrator in the dramatisation my youngest brother had written. And since then I have been to another church service dedicated to this passage of Luke 15:11-32, studied it in house group and at the fellowship group at work, and there it was again this last Sunday.

There is nothing wrong with looking at something that many times in a year. Indeed, it's regular occurrence makes me question further the relevance to my own life and what it is God is trying to tell me through this famous story. That is because with God these things aren't just mere coincidences. It has been easy for me to accept the story as part and parcel of what I have been learning about God's grace over the past year. It's something that in the many years of being a Christian I have understood, yet how much have I really understood it? This past year I have realised the awesome power of God's saving grace in His Son, Jesus Christ, than I ever realised before. So amazing, breathtaking. I cannot even find the words to describe how awesome it is fully here.

The parable of the Prodigal Son focuses on this grace, this passionate love of God to save us. It is momentous, the father who welcomes the son back with open arms, a feast, no questions, nothing but pure love and joy. The son is ready with his protestations and his words of apology, but the father has already forgiven him - he has his son back! It is mind-blowing, and as such I considered the parable to tie-in exceptionally well with everything else I've been coming to grips with about the grace of our Lord.

However, it was on Sunday that I realised something else that God was saying to me through this parable. It is in verse 31. The eldest son of the father is angry that his brother is so readily accepted back into the family when he left them and squandered his inheritance on things of questionable morality. The eldest son is upset that no great party has ever been thrown for him, despite him doing good and working hard. Unlike the eldest son I am excited when someone becomes a Christian. It is worth celebrating in the way the father does for his youngest son. But the words the father says to the eldest son really do ring true with me. Why?

I became a Christian when I was five years old, which in the grand scheme of things, is pretty young! One of my childhood best friends took me along to Sunday School with him, where I first found out about Jesus and realised what He had done for me. It's quite dramatic for a five year old to get to grips with that, but in my child eyes it made perfect sense and was undoubtedly true. I believed it unquestionably. And through various trials and tribulations in the almost twenty years since then, I have come to know God more. We've had a pretty exciting child/parent relationship, and I played the part of rebellious teenager rather well. He is my Lord, my Father, and my best friend. And there have been numerous ups and downs, and yes, there have also been doubts and deeper investigation into my beliefs.

Nevertheless I became a Christian when I was five. There is perhaps nothing terribly remarkable about that. The thing is, becoming a Christian that young, has meant that through my life I have witnessed people become Christians through life-altering transformations. I have heard powerful testimonies of people's lives being changed fantastically, completely turned around. I have read inspired books about different people's journeys with Christ. And so, I have felt a little confused and even a little jealous that this is isn't how it happened for me. It has been bothering me more recently, enhanced perhaps by my boyfriend's own coming to Christ in recent times, and seeing the powerful transformation take place in his life. And that is why, on Sunday, verse 31 finally hit me in a unique way that answered my troubles about my young faith. The father says, "My son, you are always with me and everything I have is yours." Yes, I became a Christian young, but look at what that has meant for my life! I always knew God was with me, but I never understood it in this way. And I am sure there was a party in heaven the day I gave my life to Him at five years old. And I am also sure that I am just like the youngest son, in that every time I have strayed and wandered (sometimes ran) away from God and His will for my life, He has been there, looking out on the horizon for my return, welcoming me back with open arms and a love that can never be equalled.