The prodigal me

 Somewhere in some book I read some years ago, the statement was made, “Even if there was no promise of eternal life, of heaven, I would still follow the words of Jesus because they are true.”

It is an interesting question, I think. Would I continue to live in the way Jesus’ said to live, even if there was no promise of reward upon death?

My philosophical side said “yes,” without question, because it is the truth. I asked a friend the same question though and he said, “Absolutely not. Why would I, if there was no reward in the end?”

I thought of this while reading (rereading) what we call the “Parable of the Prodigal Son.” Pastor and author Timothy Keller refers to it as the “Parable of the Two Lost Sons” or even “The Prodigal God” (he has a book with that title).

Years ago, my brother Rick, the theologian, sent me some material he’d put together on the Parables of Jesus, in which he taught me that we have to look at the audience to really understand the meaning behind Jesus’ parable. The parable of the two sons is one of those that really requires understanding of who Jesus was directing his comments toward to get the real impact.

We in our Western culture like the story of the younger brother, who takes his inheritance, spends it selfishly (Prodigal is defined as “spending money or resources freely and recklessly; wastefully extravagant”), and then is not just accepted but celebrated upon his return to the family by the father. I think we like that story because we all desire to be accepted unconditionally, despite what we have done, and we tend to think of this story as being about non-believers coming to Jesus.

However, if you look at the chapter from which this story comes (Luke 15), you see the intended audience was made up of “older brothers,” the faithful Jews and religious class. They were the ones who would identify as the “older brother” who remained faithful, denied themselves the “riotous” living of the younger brother, stayed on the farm because that is what custom and culture expected.

Because it was the “right” thing to do.

And yet at the end of the story, while the celebration goes on for the younger brother who is undoubtedly overwhelmed at being restored to his place in the family, it’s the older brother who has gone his own way, staying outside and, essentially, taking his leave of the family.

Is what the older brother done, in intent, really any different than that of the younger?

While we’d look at the older brother and say his actions were correct, was he not expecting to one day inherit all that was left of his father’s wealth and legacy? When the father restored the younger brother, did that not threaten the inheritance of the older, because of the possibility the father would take care of the younger in some way, perhaps even restore him to a place of inheritance again?

So why do I do what I do? Do I follow Jesus because of the reward, because if I go to church and read my Bible and take care of the poor and help the suffering, down deep I expect the Father to look out for me?

When I was a kid, our church often had guest speakers come in and give their “testimony,’’ the story of how God had saved them. Often they were former gangsters who’d lived lives of crime, or musicians who had lived lives of wanton excess, or athletes or businessmen who’d made enormous amounts of money with lavish lifestyles. All of them had some encounter with God that made them realize the way they were living was wrong and they repented, turned their lives around to live more in line with how God intended.

And my friends and I longed to have such a testimony. Oh, to live the life of a successful gangster, musician, businessman and enjoy the apparent rewards of such a life, and then find Jesus and be celebrated in the church and admired by a whole new crowd of righteous-living people!

Oh, we said it would be so we could have a greater, more significant impact for Jesus. But down deep, wasn’t it because wanted the best of both worlds?

In essence, we were or are all “lost sons.” Too many of us don’t fully understand what it means to be accepted into Jesus’ family.

Do we ‘live for Jesus’ because it’s truth? Or because it offers us eternal reward (the old “fire escape from hell”)?

Elizabeth Elliot wrote her own parable, in which Jesus says to his disciples, “I’d like you to carry a stone for me.” There was no further explanation, so they all looked around for stones. Peter, being practical, found a small stone that was easy to carry since Jesus didn’t give any requirements for size or weight. Then Jesus said “follow me’’ and took off. At lunch time, they all stopped and Jesus did one of his Jesus-things and turned each stone into bread and said, “take, eat.” Peter’s meal didn’t last long, of course.

When lunch was done, Jesus said again, “I’d like you each carry a stone for me.” This time Peter says, “I understand it now!” and looked around for a stone of considerable size and weight. Jesus again said, “follow me’’ and they all start off again, Peter lagging behind because of the burden he was carrying. When night came, Jesus led them to the side of a river and said, “Now throw your stones into the water.” They did, and nothing happened. Jesus said again, “Follow me” and started off down the road.

Peter and the others looked at Jesus in disbelief, just standing there. Jesus sighed and said, “Don’t you remember what I asked you to do? Who were you carrying the stone for?”

Like the older brother, Peter in Elliot’s parable expected his sacrifice and actions to pay off in some way for his personal benefit. When it didn’t, he was confused and perhaps even outraged.

So again, I have to ask myself, why do I follow Jesus? Is it because of the promise of something better? Or because it’s the truth?

Is it wrong of me to follow Jesus to gain the reward of Heaven?

And when I see that both brothers in Jesus’ parable are lost, I wonder: Do I really understand Jesus’ message after all?