“I will arise and go to my father.” Luke 15:18
Although the world did not yet celebrate Christmas, had AT&T, Sprint PCS or even Western Union been in business when the prodigal son made up his mind to come home, maybe he would have phoned ahead. (He might have found a PhoneCard somewhere with a minute left on it.) Given his dramatic change of heart, he surely would not have wanted to send his father into a coronary. Little did he know that a heads-up was unnecessary. His father made a daily trek to his watching post, keeping up a continual look-out for his boy to come back.
The parable that Jesus told begins matter-of-factly, “A certain man had two sons.” Implicit in this statement is the presumption that children really do belong to their parents. We take care of them, provide a life for them and make all decisions for them. They wear our name, bear our likeness and will carry on our legacy. Most parents do not envision any deviation from this presumed course of events.
Imagine his father’s shock, then, when the younger son said, “Give me the portion of goods that falleth to me.” It was the proverbial bolt out of the blue. Somewhere, between sweet infancy and happy adolescence, a son turned into a stranger. Parents of teenagers know all about this feeling. We gaze into a familiar face and sense something frighteningly different. “Who are you and what have you done with my wonderful child?” we ask. Bewilderment, anger, and fear finally gives way to resignation. We can’t figure out what happened.
This father had provided a solid environment for his family. Through hard work, he founded a business, built an estate and established a strong reputation in town. Like most parents, he probably had definite expectations for his son. He was preparing him for a career in estate-management, schooling him in the protocol of genteel leadership, and had undoubtedly chosen a bride for him. A sound, biblical education and love for God formed the basis of all his training. While riding together over the lands, I’m sure many of their conversations began with, “Son, one of these days…” But exceptions invariably disrupt carefully laid plans. Despite every effort, the father could not filter out the pervasive influence of sin. It seeps into the finest homes, attacks the purest environments and thwarts the noblest intentions. The more immoveable the object becomes, the more irresistible the force grows as well.
This parable is an astounding testimony to a father’s incredible faith. “But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him….” What motivated this man to scan the horizon for the return of a son whom he had already declared to be lost and dead? (v. 24) Was he a sentimental dupe? Was he merely living in denial of the obvious facts? Had his mourning failed to achieve closure? Was he engaged in inane, wishful thinking? Did he feel that just his stubborn persistence alone would be rewarded? I don’t think so.
This godly father believed in something far more substantial than misguided emotions. He kept watching, even though each previous day ended in bitter disappointment. Why? Because he knew what he had put into his son over the course of twenty or so years. He knew he had taught him unfailing truths out of the Word. He knew he had demonstrated to him a righteous and devoted example. He knew he dedicated his son to God and blanketed him with a covering of prayer.
You, too, can tie yourself to God’s promises. They are immutable. “Wherein God, willing more abundantly to shew unto the heirs of promise the immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by an oath: That by two immutable things, in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us: Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast…Hebrews 6:17-19
Parents, preachers, teachers and all those who have invested the Word of God into the lives of others, keep standing at your post, looking over the landscape. Sin may have wrecked them. They may appear spiritually dead and irretrievably lost. Complications may paint a hopeless picture. Never give up. “So shall my word be…it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper…” Isaiah 55:11
This could be the Christmas you’ve been waiting for.