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Two Kinds of Lost

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Today we start a new series of messages: "The Prodigal God." To begin, check out this video...a contemporary version of the father who had two sons...

 

Today we're going to consider two ways people can be "lost."

How many will admit to having been lost? Did you stop and ask for directions?

There is more than one way to be lost if you're hiking through the north woods. For instance, you may get off track—but be completely unaware that you are lost. You think you're okay, but you're not. You go blissfully on your way and it's not until later, after you've wandered even farther from your path, that you discover something is amiss. This is often the condition of the religious lost—they think they're okay, but they're still just as lost as ever.

Of course you can be lost and painfully aware of your condition. You might think you've still got things under control because you've got your map, your compass, your tent, water and food. You might think you can find your way out...and some do hike out of the north woods after being lost. But when you're spiritually lost—eventually you come to realize that your map is wrong, your compass is broken, your tent leaks water and lets in mosquitoes. When you're spiritually lost, eventually you see that there is nothing you can do to fix your problem.

Luke 15:11-32

We've all heard Jesus' story of the "prodigal" son, the young man who demanded his share of the inheritance from his father. It's the story of a rebellious son who ran off to a distant land where he wasted his inheritance on wild parties and unsavory friends.

We know the story's main lesson pretty well. It's quite apparent the father in the story represents our heavenly Father and the rebellious son represents us as sinners when we wander away from God. We've heard it all before.

And what is the lesson? The father loves his wayward son, in spite of all he's done, and desperately wants to welcome him home. Conclusion: Even if you've lived a wild life, there is hope for you: your Father in heaven still loves you and still wants you.

But there is much more to this story than what appears on the surface. Over the next three weeks, I want to explore with you some of the astounding implications of this story—because on a deeper level this story calls into question many of our presuppositions about what it really means to follow God.

[IMAGE: BOOK COVER] Many of the ideas that stimulated my thinking and opened my heart to see this story in a new way come from a book by Timothy Keller called, The Prodigal God. Timothy Keller is the pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Manhattan, New York, where he has been very effective communicating to a generation of young, hip, urban, secular skeptics.

If you'd like to dig deeper into the topic and study the story on your own, I'd suggest that you to pick up a copy of this book. We have several available at the Welcome Center for about $9—and we can order more if need be.

Let me start by looking at the title of Keller's book: The Prodigal God. It raises a question: Why should we say that God is "prodigal"?

Growing up in Sunday school and hearing Jesus' parable, I always associated the word "prodigal" with what I assumed from the context of the story: since it was about a rebellious, wandering young man, I assumed the word "prodigal" meant "wayward, rebellious, lost, sinful."

But I assumed wrong.

So to begin with, let's clear up this misconception. The word "prodigal" does not mean "sinful"; it means "wastefully or recklessly extravagant...lavish in spending."

For instance, if I spend $1,000 on my hobby, it's because I've carefully researched for the best deal. But I complain if my wife spends $1,000 on her project, because I think it must be "prodigal"—an unnecessary waste!

By this definition, the young man in Jesus' story was certainly "prodigal." He wasted away his entire inheritance; he recklessly and foolishly spent all his money. He squandered his wealth! The KJV says he "wasted his substance with riotous living."

You might be surprised to know that the word "prodigal" doesn't really appear anywhere in the text. It doesn't appear in the King James Version—or in the NIV, the NASB, the New Living Translation, TEV, CEV, NCV...none of these.

So how did the term "prodigal" get connected with this story? Well, it was included by the translators of the KJV in the section heading they wrote. It wasn't Scripture; it was the translators' notes. [Earlier versions (e.g. Douay-Rheims NT in 1582) seemed to have borrowed the phrase from the Latin Vulgate's filius prodigus (or "wasteful son").] But the word itself did not appear in the English biblical text.

I did, however, find the word "prodigal" in one recent English version—the NKJV—where v 13 says this: "And not many days after, the younger son gathered all together, journeyed to a far country, and there wasted his possessions with prodigal living." In other words, he recklessly wasted his resources—and he was on the road to wasting his life.

But let's look further at Jesus' story. We discover it's not only about a father and his younger, prodigal son. There is an older brother in the picture as well. In fact, the story begins: "There was a man who had two sons" (v 11).

So let's break this story down into several key points:

●      First, there is a man, a wealthy landowner, who has two sons. The older son is dutiful and obedient. He stays home and works hard to please his father in every way possible.

●      The younger son is not at all like his older brother. He is not nearly so responsible or obedient. In fact, he chafes under his father's authority! He is all too eager to get out of the house. He is determined to live his own life in his own way.

●      So the younger son demands his inheritance. According to Hebrew custom, the family inheritance is divided up between all the sons, but the oldest son receives double what the other sons get. In this case, the oldest would get two-thirds, the youngest one-third.

●      One big difference here that broke with tradition: the younger son demands his share before his father's death. It's as though he were saying, "I wish you were dead!" He doesn't want his father telling him what to do, "ruining" his life, setting curfews, limiting his boundaries, restricting his friends, getting in the way of his fun.

●      The father is upset by his son's crazy talk and his rebellious ways. He is grief-stricken by his son's demands. But he doesn't pull rank; he doesn't force his son to do the right thing; he doesn't demand respect. In fact, he allows his son to make his own choices—precisely the opposite of what he would do if he were actually as demanding and authoritative as his younger son believes he is.

●      So, with a heavy heart, the father divides his estate and sets aside one-third for the youngest son, who takes the money and then takes off.

●      He's tired of rules and obligations. He's done with trying to live up to his father's expectations. All he's ever wanted was to enjoy life, but his father seemed determined to make his life miserable! Well, he's had it. He's had it with his father, and he's had it with his obnoxious older brother too. He's tired of living in the shadow of "Mr. Perfect" who never does anything wrong. He's always kissing up, always making himself look good. What a self-righteous know-it-all!

●      So the younger son takes off on his own—free at last from all the demands at home. Of course, we can all see what's coming. It's inevitable. If you have enough money to throw around, as he did, you'll have lots of "friends." There's no shortage of people who want to enjoy the high life—as long as someone else is paying for it.

●      In his quest for fun and pleasure, the younger brother spends all his money. He hangs out with the wrong crowd. He parties all night, sleeps all day. He chases women and takes risks. So in the end the younger brother gets into trouble. A famine hits, the economy tanks, and because of his foolish, irresponsible ways, he has nothing to fall back on.

●      By the time he realizes what's happening, he's in too far. He can't undo what's been done. And now he's facing the consequences of his choices. He's in real danger of starving to death.

The story of the younger brother, of course, is our story. It's the story of humanity. The younger brother describes all of us who want to go our own way, to make our own decisions, to be in control of our lives. Whenever we chafe under authority or struggle with the expectations of others, we discover the rebellious heart of the younger brother beating in our own chest.

There is none righteous, no, not one (Rom 3:10). All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Rom 3:23). All have turned aside, they have together become corrupt; there is no one who does good, not even one (Ps 14:3). There is not a righteous man on earth who does what is right and never sins (Eccl 7:20). We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way... (Isaiah 53:6).

This is why we call people to repent of their wandering ways, to come home and return to the love of their heavenly Father. All of us are like the younger brother in some respect. If we can't see our sin, we won't see our need to stop it and turn away. If we can't see that we have rebelled against our Father in heaven, then we won't see our need to confess and repent. Without this recognition, we will remain lost in a far country, trapped in the pig pen of this world, with famished souls, starving spiritually.

But we must not forget that there is another son in the story—and he too needs to return home, just as much as his younger brother. What's more, just as we all have something of the younger brother in us, we also have something of the older brother in us!

In fact, it seems that Jesus told this story primarily to those who were like the older brother, to those who did the right thing, to those who did the religious thing. He told this story to those who prided themselves for not being like the younger brother!

Look at the first two verses of this chapter. Jesus is talking to the religious leaders, those who were upright and uptight:

1 Now the tax collectors and "sinners" were all gathering around to hear him. 2 But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, "This man welcomes sinners and eats with them." (Luke 15:1-2, NIV)

1 Tax collectors and other notorious sinners often came to listen to Jesus teach. 2 This made the Pharisees and teachers of religious law complain that he was associating with such despicable people—even eating with them! (Luke 15:1-2, NLT)

The Pharisees and teachers of the law—the most religious people around—were very much like the older brother. They didn't want to have the younger brother around. They were just fine with the younger brother leaving. That made the house better for them because they followed all the rules. They didn't want to deal with the trouble caused by rule-breakers. After all, they didn't chase after sinful pleasures. They didn't waste their resources. They worked hard at being moral and religious.

These verses provide the context for three stories that follow, stories about things that were lost (a lost sheep, a lost coin, a lost son). When the lost was found in each story, it concluded with a celebration.

But it isn't until Jesus got to the last story that there is someone who doesn't want to celebrate—someone who wants to boycott the party. The older brother rejects his father's please and refuses to celebrate the return of his younger brother.

Jesus told these stories for the benefit of those who complained about how he so eagerly associated with "sinners"—those who had lived such irreligious lives. It upset them that he could extend such grace to social outcasts, despicable sinners. How could he talk to—let alone party with—people who didn't follow the Torah! People who didn't obey the Law! People who had no compunctions about being ritually and ceremonially unclean! How could he?

Do you see how this still happens today? So many people in our society have left the church and wandered away because they find it filled with older brothers who judge and condemn them, older brothers who follow religious rules and criticize those who don't.

Many people in our society say they like Jesus just fine; they just don't like the church. You hear people talk about spirituality, but they don't want to be religious. Someone will say, "It was a moving, spiritual experience," and people accept that. But few will say, "I found religion." People don't relate to that.

Why is that? Because religion is not perceived as something spiritual; it's seen as something to do with rules and rituals, traditions and laws; it's seen as a heavy-handed institution intended to straighten people up and fix them. Religion is not seen as a relationship with a loving Father who forgives.

In the early days of the church, Christianity was considered a non-religion. It had no visible god (like their idols), no temples, no priests, no sacrifices. It had nothing that the world considered necessary for a religion. The Romans even called the early Christians "atheists," because they didn't fit the religious definitions. Christians rejected all the gods the Romans knew about.

So Christianity was a non-religion. How different things have become! Now people in the world see Christianity as religious moralism. When Jesus was here, the religious people in general were offended by him. It was the outcasts and sinners and rule-breakers who were intrigued and attracted to Jesus. They "were...gathering" (v 1)—that is to say, his crowds were growing larger all the time while the religious people only grew more jealous.

Churches that offer only "religion" are just not that appealing to outcasts, sinners, and rule-breakers. They already feel bad enough about their lives; why should they go to a place that only beats them up more?

Jesus said to the religious leaders of his day: "I tell you the truth, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you" (Matt 21:31).

Today many churches do not attract people as Jesus did. Religious people fit into the church scene pretty easily, but the younger brother types have difficulty. Religious people know the language. They understand the rules. They know how to act. But younger brother types are renegades...and they don't know the language...the rules...or how to act.

Jesus said there was a man who had two sons: one who rebelled and ran away; another who obeyed and stayed home. One was rebellious; the other was religious. And yet both misunderstood the love their Father had for them.

Religious or rebellious—both paths are dead ends! You can cut yourself off from God—be independent from God—by being religious as much as by being rebellious.

So Jesus told this story to the religious ones who stayed at home and never wandered off, who followed all the rules, who never did anything wrong, who never questioned the Father's authority.

Jesus wanted the religious people—the Pharisees and teachers of the law—to see that even though they were religious and self-righteous, they had a huge problem: They didn't understand the love of the Father any better than the younger brother did.

He told them this story because he knew they were going to miss the Father if they didn't grasp the significance of his love for them. His story covered both problems. It revealed the destructive self-centeredness of the younger brother, but it also revealed the moralistic self-righteousness of the older brother. Self-centered or self-righteous—both focus on self rather than God.

You see both brothers wanted the Father's things more than they wanted the Father. The younger brother was just more honest about it: "Give me what is mine," he said. "I want my share of your estate now, instead of waiting until you die."

The older son, like his younger brother, also wanted things more than he cared about his Father. However, he felt that the best way to get it was to be a dutiful son, working hard at being good. If he followed all the rules, then he thought his father would have no choice but to give him what he deserved. By being obedient, he figured, he could control the outcome.

As a result, the older son didn't really experience the father's love. He only thought in terms of rules. He said it himself: "All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders" (v 29).

Why would a son act like a slave? Because he didn't have the right relationship with the father! If you feel like God is a demanding, tyrannical ruler who requires you to slave away at being good, denying your any pleasure, then there is a huge hole in your theology—and in your relationship!

The older brother thought if he followed the rules, then his father would have to give him the stuff. He believed that he could control his father's response by his own good behavior. Some believe if they're good enough, then God will have to do what they want. He will have to answer their prayers the way they want instead of according to his will.

And what upset him so much at the end of the story—and what upset the religious Jews so much—was that his father would extend such reckless grace and throw a lavish, wasteful party on someone who didn't deserve it. The father was spending his inheritance on his rebellious, wandering brother!

It was bad enough he had a brother who was prodigal! But he was doubly upset because his father was prodigal too! His father was extravagant with mercy, lavishly rewarding a son who didn't deserve it.

Over the next few weeks we're going to look at the problems each of these sons had, because both were lost, but in different ways. Both needed to know the father, because both were mistaken about the father's love.