Category: Faith

It is clear that the hardest conversion to go through is the conversion of the one who stayed home. ~Henri J.M. Nouwen

The younger brother. His memoir is the more satisfying read–the prodigal son who takes his father’s money and runs toward fortune and fame.

We vicariously thrill to the good life and nod, content, at the eating-worse-than-the-pigs moment of truth. Bad choices lead to bad things, there is justice here.

Our eyes get misty at the awkward journey home, the Father’s  breathless run of forgiving grace. It’s a story of hope. The Father, a window into God’s heart for all his wandering ones, holds out a never-expiring second chance. And joyful celebration when we come home.

The plot line is pleasing–but some of us turn the last page with a sense of dismay. We’re not in the story. The party was not for us, the ones who stayed home.

We understand the elder brother’s point of view–why does our wayward brother get the party? We, too, have known misery–without first having  any fun. Can you relate?

Elder Brother Syndrome Symptoms

• You compare yourself with others.
• You are resentful when others are blest.
• You are offended by little slights.
• You are quick to see another’s flaws.
• You wonder if God loves others more than you.
• You are angry when someone gets away with bad behavior.
• You long for a blessing that always seems withheld.
• You think God owes you for your efforts.
• You often feel you are competing for a prize you never win.

The Elder Brother in Me

Recently, I typed a letter to God, pounding the keyboard with lament and self-pity: “Why not? Why them? Why not me?” Around word 702 it hit me–this is elder-brother stuff. God seized my moment of sanity, and I heard him whisper,

You are always with me and everything I have is yours. 

I turned to Luke 15:31 and there it was.

• You are always with me: I choose you, want to be with you, and my heart aches for you to notice I am here. I offer you myself, not a trophy for your shelf.
• Everything I have is yours: Life, purpose, provision, beauty, people. Most of all, my unqualified, unquenchable love.

I’m as lost as the prodigal. I, too have broken my Father’s heart. I too need to come home. I look up and with tear-blurred eyes see my Father running towards me, his arms opened wide. Every single time.

And so do you.

Do you trust this is true? 

(Luke 15:11-32)

Image Credit-flickr-Nickdawg

Ideologies separate us. Dreams and anguish bring us together. ~Eugene Ionesco

The dreaded Group Project.

You know what will happen. The classmate who is supposed to supply plastic dinosaurs for the diorama won’t show. Or you’ll be stuck in front of the class with visual aids for a presentation no one’s written.

Group projects are never fair, but teachers love them. The weak, the strong, the forgetful and overachiever eye each other across the room–we are in this together. We sink or swim in the same grading pool.

Why can’t we avoid these assignments? Recently, my daughter shared with me the answer:

Because life is a group project.

God Invented The Group Project

Reading through the Old Testament, my eyes glaze over when I come to lists of laws. But when read in the context of other ancient codes, God’s commands leave me stunned.

Mesopotamian kings crafted their lists as a kind of political piety–See how competent I am to rule? The laws, like the famous Code of Hammurabi, reflect a viewpoint not uncommon today: Human life is cheap, protection of property is the highest value.

We turn to Exodus and Leviticus and a different perspective emerges: Human life is sacred, property rights always come second to human dignity and well-being.

Biblical law leans away from self-interest, away from the obvious and easy. And commands us to remember.

• Remember what it was like to be powerless and mistreated.
• Remember how I showed you mercy.
• Remember how I rescued and cared for you.

Now do the same for others.

By default, humans choose the way of Hammurabi over the way of God. Things over people, me over us, us over them.

But every once in a while, you find a place where ears are tuned to God’s voice, where a group project is beautifully assembled.

In Chicago, a little church with a big heart houses a warming center for homeless men and gathers as a community for homemade meals, prepared in honor of their vagrant guests. Last week I sat in the cozy church basement enjoying a tamales dinner my kids helped prepare.

These mainly young adults have grasped that life is a group project, that they are to imitate God, who created us to need one another, and to thrive when we choose to put people first.

Here’s my question for you: In life’s great group project, what were you assigned to bring?

Your part matters, so don’t forget to show up.

You can chase a dream that seems so out of reach, and you know it might not ever come your way. Dream it anyway. ~Martina McBride

Lately I’ve been reading the book of Exodus with new ears.

Beyond those ancient stories, the dusty desert murmurs, the dry-throated encounters with angels or enemies, a theme song soars:

Do It Anyway.

A nation in slavery. Their backs broken, bodies caked with Nile mud, chasing a quota they will never fill. Disposable labor for a Pharaoh with dreams of glory, and a heart-hardened rule. Billions of  bricks baked, for no pay, to build monuments to his power.

And in the heavens? A pantheon of indifferent gods. And somewhere, a half-forgotten God who seems to be asleep while first-born sons are hunted. And midwives told to kill the very ones they’re trained to save.

What chance do we have?  Our eyes tells us its true–we are too little, the odds are against us, the empires will crush us, the tyrants defeat us, the brick-walled obstructions allow no escape. Who are we to attempt the impossible, to follow burning-bush callings, to defy iron fists?

But there’s that song on the breeze, a tune we’ve forgotten,

Do It Anyway.

What’s stopping you? What walls tower before you? What tyrants and temptations drain away your dreams? Whose voice  has you convinced to stay paralyzed and impotent, when another voice is calling you by name?

We never learn the Pharaoh’s name, but the midwives who refused to cower are remembered still today. The Egyptian Empire crumbled, the pantheon resigned; the slaves became the chosen ones, and

Moses, doubtful and disheartened, became a friend of God.

Because He Did It Anyway.

Exodus 1:15-17    Exodus 33:11

Are you facing a mountain of excuses and discouragement? Do It Anyway.

Marina McBride’s, Anyway

 image credit: flickr-Tillman