Worthiness and Reward - Avoiding younger-brother-syndrome.

My friend Ken asked an old girlfriend and I the question, “Do you think you’re a good person?” I said, “Yes.” She hesitated before replying, “Well, it all depends.”

Ken asked me to explain my answer. I shrugged my shoulders and said matter-of-factly, “The Bible says I have died and risen in Christ, that I am hidden in Him. So God sees me as perfect and blameless. I’m good because Jesus is good.” Ken and his wife smiled and showed my girlfriend and I how the Bible explains Christ’s righteousness is given to us when we accept Him. My girlfriend got upset at this and went into a fury about how she knew her own sin and she didn’t think of herself as very good “on those days.” Then she turned to me, “I think you know it, too. You always have the right answer that’ll make everyone happy. You’re just a people pleaser.” We didn’t last much longer as a couple. Even so, she was partially correct at the time.

During that conversation with Ken, I truly believed what I said. I still do. I am not good on my own. But Jesus is good and I am in Jesus. He calls me good, so I am good. However, my attitude sometimes drifts from Christ’s righteousness to self-righteousness. Many of you have heard stories of God leading me to do strange acts of obedience that later become testimony of His goodness. After a certain time of service, I wonder when God will give me the big rewards. You know, a wife and family, a reliable car, or a best-selling book. That sort of thing. “If I do a good job for the Lord,” I’ll think, “then I should get the blessings I want.” It’s like I’m trying to do and say the right things to make God happy with me forgetting He is already pleased with me because of Jesus.

In Luke 15:11-31, Jesus tells a story. “A man had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the estate that falls to me.’ So he divided his wealth between them. And not many days later, the younger son gathered everything together and went on a journey into a distant country, and there he squandered his estate with loose living. Now when he had spent everything, a severe famine occurred in that country, and he began to be impoverished. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would have gladly filled his stomach with the pods that the swine were eating, and no one was giving anything to him. But when he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father's hired men have more than enough bread, but I am dying here with hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in your sight; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me as one of your hired men.”’ So he got up and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion for him, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and in your sight; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly bring out the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand and sandals on his feet; and bring the fattened calf, kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.’ And they began to celebrate.

“Now his older son was in the field, and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. And he summoned one of the servants and began inquiring what these things could be. And he said to him, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has received him back safe and sound.’ But he became angry and was not willing to go in; and his father came out and began pleading with him. But he answered and said to his father, ‘Look! For so many years I have been serving you and I have never neglected a command of yours; and yet you have never given me a young goat, so that I might celebrate with my friends; but when this son of yours came, who has devoured your wealth with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him.’ And he said to him, ‘Son, you have always been with me, and all that is mine is yours.’”

The first son, like my ex-girlfriend, knew how wretched he had been. He didn’t feel worthy to have the title of “Son” again. Whether she meant it this way or not, my Ex had essentially said the same thing. “I’m not good enough for Jesus to give me Grace, so I’m going to base my goodness on my merit and only accept His forgiveness.” She saw herself as a sinner-turned-servant instead of God’s princess.

On the other hand, there are times I pout because I don’t immediately experience all of the blessings I expect God to give His hard-working son. I’ll compare my experiences of blessings with others and begin to think somehow I’ve been snubbed. I’m not always in that state of mind, I’m just saying it happens.

People have a tendency to pick on the older son. What a crybaby, right? Can’t he be happy for other people? And we’re right to give this brother a hard time. However, we overlook the fact that the younger brother also had an incorrect view of his relationship with the father. He wanted to work for dad as a servant but didn’t get that far in his rehearsed apology. He said, “I’m not worthy to be called your son.” Then the father interrupted with gifts and joy.

The older son had a twisted sense of entitlement as if his work and obedience warranted blessings as wages. But the father told him, “No, everything of mine was always yours. What’s more, you were never apart from your father.”

Both sons needed the father to tell them, “You’re not my servant, you’re my son. You don’t have to earn my favor because you’re my son.” Does that mean the younger son wouldn’t maybe help dad clean up after the feast? Of course he would, sons do that to honor their fathers. Did the older son never see blessings and gifts from dad? He probably understood that he could ask for those blessings instead of passively waiting for them. Dad obviously liked blessing his kids.

I felt compelled to tell you this so that you might avoid two traps of the enemy. First, for the older-brother-club, be careful that you don’t worship and obey God for what He might give you. Worship and obey God because of who He is. The single greatest blessing He gave was the opportunity of a personal, intimate relationship with Him through the death and resurrection of Jesus. Scripture says in Galatians 3:26, “For you are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus.” As sons, we enjoy all of the Father’s benefits. A servant may have to earn favor, but sons have it as members of the family. “You are with me, and all that is mine is yours.”

For people suffering from younger-brother-syndrome, what would you have thought if the prodigal son insisted on taking the role of a servant and turned down all of the gifts the father gave? You’d call him an idiot. I think the father would have felt grievously wounded. Such a scenario wouldn’t have been an example of righteousness, but pride and stubbornness. When the younger son asked for his inheritance, this communicated that he wished his dad would just die and give him the money. This was intentional estrangement. If the son came back as a servant, he may have admitted his sin, but there would be no healing of the father/son relationship and the distance between them would still exist. This wouldn’t be a story of a homecoming but a boy continuing to demonstrate foolishness.

My second point is this. Younger-brother-syndrome can make a person accept a false attitude of unworthiness that despises the blessings of the God. James 1:17 says, “Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father,” and the rest of the Bible says you can’t earn any of them. But because of Jesus taking the penalty for the sin in your life, you are free to receive every one of those gifts.

So let God bless you. Don’t feel bad about it. And don’t, under any circumstances, sulk at your own party.

A Bend In the Path – Promises and Patience.

I started writing a graphic novel two months ago. It’s about Jewish people in the old west. The idea for the story came to me when I played a concert in Grand Rapids last summer. This girl was hanging around as I waited for my turn on stage. I had a Star of David that I’d picked up in Jerusalem and I was fidgeting with it in my right hand. She caught a glimpse of it and asked, “Are you a sheriff?” I tried not to make fun of her, but it got me thinking, “I wonder if there was a Jewish sheriff in some dusty gold-rush town…”

The story has gone through some changes from that initial thought and I’ve already had a lot of fun the past few weeks. At one point in the story, as the Jews sail on a ship headed to California, a Russian listens to a Jewish boy talk about his faith. The boy narrates the story, “As I told him of King David hiding in caves while King Saul sought to kill him, he stopped me. ‘I have heard these stories. The priest at the Orthodox Church told them to me. What I don’t understand is God’s power to give things He promises to people. He told your people that they would have the Promised Land, and yet they did not have it for centuries. He told David that he was king while Saul still sat on the throne. Then David had to run for his life, hiding in caves until Saul died. Could not God promise something and then simply give it?’”

After I wrote this question, I realized that I didn’t have an answer for the boy to give the Russian. Then I realized that I didn’t know the answer for that question in my own life. Why couldn’t God simply give the things He promised?

God has made a lot of promises for my life. He’s made a lot of promises to a lot of people. He makes so many promises to the world in scripture that I don’t feel like scanning BibleGateway.com to find them all. When I read the promises in the Bible or hear Him make promises to me in prayer, I very often feel a longing to see them fulfilled. Sometimes, I let those feelings of longing and hope (I’m looking forward to these gifts, Lord) turn into despair (Are you ever going to come through on those promises?).

For the sake of brevity, I’ll only talk about one of these promises. God has promised me a wife someday and I felt like He told me one night, “Pay attention to (her). I want you to pursue (her).” Now, I’m aware that He didn’t say, “You’re going to date her and marry her.” I’m only trying to make the point that I have a promise and feel like God has showed me a possible fulfillment of that promise. As I prayed about this, seeking confirmation and asking for wisdom, an elaborate picture came to mind.

God and I walked along a path together. An arch formed in the path and a field lay between us and the other side of the bend. God pointed at a figure on the path across the field and said, “See that person? I’m bringing you two together. That’s what I want to give you.”

In my excitement, I figure the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, so I dart into the field. Unfortunately, I don’t see that the field is full of quicksand and bear traps and debt collectors and all sorts of other stuff I’d want to avoid. By the time I get to the other side, I’ve lost a shoe in the quicksand, a foot in a bear trap, and changed my phone number. That’s trouble enough. Even if I make it to the other side, I can’t be sure that I’ll know what or whom God pointed out because I perceived something different at a distance. It might not look at all like what I thought close up. Because I’d made assumptions based on vain imaginations, I might be confused or frustrated with what I find. I’m not sure how I’d deal with the disappointment. And what if I did find the right person that God pointed out? Would they be ready? What if I grabbed that person’s hand saying, “Alright, let’s get back to God,” and I drag them through the field I barely survived?

The best thing for me to do is stay by God’s side and follow Him around the bend. Staying on the path may take longer, but I’ll keep out of unnecessary trouble. That’s not to say I won’t suffer hardships. I will, but the things He and I encounter together will prepare me for what’s ahead and I’ll mature in the process. When we finally come to the point that God showed me earlier, I’d see the promise for what it really is in the time and context that He intended. If things worked out the way I expected, I would have spent so much time in preparation with God that He would remain my primary focus. The gift wouldn’t become more important than the Giver. If things didn’t work out the way I expected, I wouldn’t feel disappointed. God and His promises would still be good. I’d be grateful for what He has given me.

So why would God show me what was ahead? If it's all going to happen anyway, isn't it kind of a tease to make me wait for it? Or is it more like incentive to keep me going?

When I was in summer camp, I ran a race around Piatt Lake in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I don’t exactly think I’m an excellent athlete, so I knew I was in for an agonizing afternoon. Every now and again, I’d catch a glimpse of a landmark ahead and think, “Just make it there. You’ll be okay, just make it to the bridge.”

The writer of Hebrews spoke of a race and the promise of a prize. Hebrews 12:1-3 says, “Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.”

When Jesus ran His race here on earth, his prize was bringing salvation to mankind. To get there, He had to endure abandonment and crucifixion among other things. He’s our example, the hero of our own marathon. Our goal is eternity with Him, but we have work to do, a race to run, a relationship to build with Him. Despair creeps in when I focus on the “landmarks” so much that my journey seems more like a waiting game. It’s easier for those feelings of longing to produce hope when I’m focused on how the race itself builds my relationship with God. Looking at it that way, I don’t mind taking the long way around.