“I am always going into the far country,
And always returning home as a prodigal,
Always saying, Father, forgive me,
And you are always bringing forth the best robe.”
-The Valley of Vision
“See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” -1 John 3:1
I recently finished Marilynn Robinson’s “Home.” It’s a slow novel, void of flashy action. Instead, I found myself entering into the hearts and minds of her characters, feeling all that they felt and grappling with the same big questions.
Her story is a modern retelling of the parable of the prodigal son, a narrative I’m very familiar with— the son who chases after all that his heart most desires, squanders his living, and decides to return home when there’s nothing left. He is surprised to return to the reckless love of his father, who can’t help but throw a big feast in his honor.
But life carries on after the welcome home party, doesn’t it?
This is what Robinson explores with her prodigal, Jack. He wrestles deeply with the question of worthiness— whether he is deserving of the love and forgiveness he’s received. He keeps secrets; tries to clean up his act. But it all proves to be too much for him. In desperation, he returns to an old vice and hides out in the barn behind the house to cover his shame.
The same is so often true of me.
Even though I have set off in the right direction, and even though I have experienced a lavish measure of the Father’s love, I continue to struggle against the old ways. When sin tears at the seams, I question my worthiness to belong to God. And then I hide in shame, avoiding him. I miss out on the joy of his presence, the warmth of the house.
I’ve forgotten the truth: that I am loved without condition. No amount of posturing or pretending will change my status with God. In fact, he longs for me to come to him just as I am.
So he runs toward me while I am still a long way off. He wants to get to me before I’ve tried to clean myself up. He draws near as I walk the dusty path, my guilt and shame still heavy on my back. He’s there to shoulder the load, to bring me back home. And he continues to pour out extravagant, reckless love on me, teaching me by his Spirit to trust that it really is mine to receive.
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