Friday 20th January - Luke 15

Today’s chapter is Luke 15

Tom writes:

These awesome stories. In them Jesus unfolds his robe and exposes huge, dazzling treasures about the personality and intention of God. They truly are brilliant aren’t they? But something I had not spotted before - the fresh bread for me in this today - is that the three parables in ch15 and then Jesus’ teachings all the way through to 17:10 are all in response to the mumbling groans of the pharisees about Jesus spending time with sinners. Jesus - who so often is tight-lipped and enigmatic in his responses to questions - releases a barrage of assertions when it comes to this topic. He’s like the guy you poke on social media who then replies with an essay; “and another thing...”. And so I find myself reviewing the way I have so often read these deeply beautiful and astonishing parables. So often I’ve seen myself as the lost coin, as the lost sheep as the son being given the fattened calf. Or I’ve seen them as a stimulus to evangelism; to wanting to see new people come to faith and discipleship. Both of these readings are valid and edifying. And yet I think the thrust of Jesus’ argument is targeted on a subtly different place, at least when we see the flow of his argument as it moves from chapter 15 into 16 and 17. Jesus’ passion is not just that I rejoice when sinners come to faith but that I accept God  as a God who eats with sinners.

I worship a God who eats with sinners. When you think about that; it is a bonkers thing for a holy God to do. Eating together takes time. Eating together includes reclining and making casual conversation. Eating together is shared vulnerability, when guards are dropped and honest opinions exposed. And our God does that with sinners. I so often lurch from seeing God as demanding and utterly holy - calling me to take up my cross and to reject “the world”; into seeing God as warm and cuddly - a relaxed and care-free socialite laughing his way through banquets. And yet, in these chapters of Luke we are told we must hold both views of God at the same time. We must look beyond human inclinations for God to be either / or and instead learn both to recline with him as prodigal father and to be rebuked by him as the convicting parable-writer. And, somehow, through the work of the Spirit, to be people who similarly embody the oxymoronic nature of our gracious, holy faith.

Question for reflection

Imagine yourself as an observer, watching the father meet the prodigal son and then holding an expensive feast with him. How do you respond emotionally to these scenes?