HAND ME DOWN
What it means to be CHOSEN
June 16th, 2023
Colossians 3:12-14, ‘So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It’s your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it.’ (MSG)
the Other Prodigal
He’d had enough of this righteous living. He’d watched all his buddies go, and then return, with fanciful stories and the glitter of life sprinkled on their cheeks and captivated allurement in their eyes. He wanted some of that; he was tired of working himself to the bone, day after endless day, more of the same. It took everything inside of him to cauterize his feelings so he could face his old man, but he finally worked up the courage He demanded his share and he refused to look back down the winding road at the slumped shoulders of his father as he walked away. He didn’t want to hear the final ‘I love you’, nor the advice his dad had to offer, so quickly, he vanished, shrugging away the last words: ‘If it doesn’t work for you out there, you are always welcome to come home, son. No questions asked.’
Boy howdy, it was awesome out there—exhilarating, reckless, glamourous, mind-blowing, endless. But one day, just when he was beginning to grow a bit faint, he went to look in his little stash of resources, and suddenly, he realized, it had all run dry. Before he knew it, all his newfound friends, his ride-or-dies, ran dry too, and at once, he was alone, scared and famished; starved for decency, realness, acceptance, love—not to mention, his belly was empty too. ‘Well, I’ll just get a job, make some money and I’ll buy all of it back that I lost,’ he said to himself. But after days of no luck, he hung his head and trudged to the nearest pig farmer so he could eat what the swine ate while he tossed them some muck. And, at long last, he remembered what his father had said to him. ‘If it doesn’t work for you out there, you are always welcome to come home, son. No questions asked.’
Luke 15:17-24, ‘”When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ So, he got up and went to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him, and kissed him. The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found! So, they began to celebrate.”’ (NIV)
Your Father is moved by you, by your need for Him, by your struggle and your failings, by your cries for help, by your return to Him. He sees you from a long way off, and He covers that distance in one single stride, from the cross to where you fall before it, before you will even hit the ground. He knows what you wasted; He knows of your recklessness and all that you squandered. He is waiting for you—not with a set of clothing he picked up at the local Goodwill and a fast-food sack of grub—but rather, with His insignia ring to show His acceptance, His royal robe for your protection, and a banquet in the presence of all those who said you’d fail for your provision.
That kid—the one who wasted himself and his inheritance on the wild things in life and then trudged home with his head hung down, the one who refused to look over his shoulder at the sorrow dripping from his father’s eyes as he walked away, the one who shrugged away the care of his dad and traded it instead for the follies of life—that kid fell into the open arms of his Father who came running to him to welcome him home. You and I are ‘that kid’, and our Father is running toward us with open arms. And it’s time to go home. He leaves the light on.
you are His REMNANT
