Many of us have an image of God the Father similar to whatever image our biological fathers left. I lived for years thinking God didn’t really care, that nothing I did was worth His attention and approval.
And while I know, now, that my Dad never intended to leave that image with me, I still took that scarred image of fatherhood and placed it on God. As resentment grew in my heart toward Ernest (my biological Dad), resentment slowly grew in my heart toward God (my original Father).
Addictions of any kind thrive in resentment.
An addiction to work, porn, masturbation, drugs, alcohol, gambling, money—you name it—if a person harbors resentment in his heart, he is pouring fuel into the fire of addiction.
One cannot live free and stay bitter at the same time. Freedom and bitterness contradict each other. The energy of bitterness demands full attention to emotional wounds; there is no space for looking anywhere else, like to the face of God our Father.
If God is our Maker, the Father of all, and Jesus is His Son who set us free, and we choose to hold our Dads (or whoever deeply wounded us) hostage to our pain, then we are forgetting what we did to God. We are not remembering why we were prisoners and what Jesus did so we could be free.
We walked away from God; not the other way around.
The brokenness our Dads live with, and the brokenness we live with, all stem from the fact that as a humanity we did not believe God had our best in mind. We did not think He was enough.
So, we listened to a lie and rebelled against Him.
Our Prodigal God
The story Jesus told in Luke 15 about the prodigal son demonstrates what we have done to God, and what He has done to us. This story should really be called the prodigal father because he is the one who was recklessly extravagant.
The story starts out saying there was a man who had two sons and the younger one of them came to his father and asked for his share of property that was coming to him. He was demanding his inheritance, and what is significant about this is that traditionally the inheritance wasn’t given until the father had died. So, in essence, the son was saying, “I don’t care if you die, all I want is what I get from you.”
Ironically, the father granted him his request. This probably meant he had to sell off parts of this property in order to be able to give him his inheritance. But he did it anyway. He gave what his son demanded and let him walk away (Luke 15:12).
Luke tells us the son went out and wasted the money, spending everything he had on “reckless living” and harlotry. And so, when he had nothing left, he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country who sent him into the fields to feed pigs.
Now, if the son was in a land where they had pig farms, it meant he was in Gentile territory. Gentiles raised pigs. The son was probably a Jew because it says he “traveled to distant land,” meaning he didn’t just walk down the road to the next town. He was outside of his territory. Furthermore, Jesus was talking with Jews and He would have put into their context.
So, this Jewish son who did not have to do any work at his father’s house is now living among Gentiles (who Jews despise) working as their servant. This was incredibly demeaning to a Jew in that day. This boy had wasted his father’s money on selfish pleasures and become servant to a people his family were superior to.
Finally, Luke says,
When he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.” And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. (Luke 15:17-20)
What does it tell you about the father that the son was still a long way off when he saw him?
Many of us would resent someone who took their inheritance from us, considering us as dead, and then went out and squandered everything we gave. We probably wouldn’t want them back.
But this father, which Jesus is talking about to illustrate our heavenly Father’s relationship with us, has a deep concern for his son that he is constantly looking down the road. And when he saw his son still a long way off, he knew it was him and compassion filled his heart, and he ran to meet him.
This, too, is significant because in ancient times land owners did not run. Because they wore long robes it meant they had to pull up the robes between their legs so they could run. Therefore, running showed lack of dignity, desperation, and weakness.
But in this father’s flood of compassion and love for his son, he didn’t care what people thought of him. As soon as he saw his son, he went running to meet him.
Becoming Prodigal, Ourselves
Some of us are still bashful in approaching God, and to a certain degree that’s okay. It’s healthy to have a deep sense of reverence for God, if that’s what our bashfulness comes from.
However, I think some of us are bashful because we do not think God accepts us. Or we are bashful because we realize what we have wasted, what we have squandered from God.
But Jesus says this father ran to meet his son. And before his son could start on his confession he had memorized, the father breaks in and restores him completely as son (Luke 15:22-24).
This son simply wanted to be his servant, but the father said, “No, you are my son. I forgive everything you have done.”
All of us who have gone out from the presence of God are dead. Each of us can at any time turn, and come back into the presence of God and be forgiven. This is the glorious truth of the Gospel.
However, if we are to receive this kind of forgiveness after everything we have committed against God, it begs us to extend the same level of forgiveness toward those who sin against us.
In fact, Jesus said that “unless you forgive those who sin against you, your heavenly Father will not forgive your sins” (Matthew 6:15).
I think what Jesus is saying is that “Your Father has forgiven your sins. So, forgive others. Don’t hold them hostage to your pain. Give yourself freedom by letting them go. Come and experience the Father’s embrace, instead of looking to satisfy the pain you feel in whatever addiction you’re submerging yourself into right now.”
How to Forgive
Forgiveness is almost like a swearword in Christianity. We spit it at people as the solution for any kind of relational problem. And probably because it is.
However, those of us who have had that word spat at us likely resent it because we don’t really know what forgiveness means.
Some say we need to “forgive and forget” and move on. I’m not sure that’s really what forgiveness means. In fact, forgiveness begs us to not forget—that we remember what we have done to our heavenly Father, and what He has done for us. When we remember how God forgives us, we can find it in our hearts to forgive others.
And that releases us from bitterness, and bitterness drives lust.
If you would like to learn more about what it means, practically, to forgive others, I’ve written an in-depth article on forgiveness called, Finding Healing When You Don’t Know Where to Turn.
Reconciled with Dad
I remember the day I told Dad about the chair and how I never felt good enough for him. He was broken, gave me a hug.
I wept.
I had held it from him for so long because I feared he would not care. I figured he would overlook the significance of the pain just as he overlooked the significance of the chair. But he didn’t.
And I think that is true for most of our fathers. Deep in their hearts, they love us. They do not intend to cause any pain, just as we do not intend to cause them pain in our response. But we are all broken, looking for the connection with God we once shared in Eden.
Jesus has made connection possible. Remember the story of Abraham and Isaac? Abraham was going to offer up his son as a sacrifice in obedience to God, even though Isaac was his only son, one born late in his life.
Abraham was about to lose his one and only son. Only, right as he lifted up the knife above Isaac’s body, God stopped him. He saw that Abraham was faithful to Him, that he fully believed God would fulfill His promise.
So, God caught a ram in a bush and told Abraham to fetch it and sacrifice the ram instead of his son.
Can you imagine the tension in that moment as Abraham’s knife dangled in the air over Isaac? If there was ever anyone who had any reason to doubt his dad cared about him it was Isaac, right?
I think about Abrahams emotions as he probably knew what he was doing scared his son. He didn’t want to hurt him in this way, but God had told him to do it. Then God provides the ram.
Can you feel the relief that probably overwhelmed them both? Isaac bracing for death and feeling the pain of the knife pierce through his heart, and Abraham bracing to watch his son die.
But now none of that had to happen. Because of the ram God provided, Isaac was able to be restored to his father, Abraham was able to be restored to his son.
In the same way, Jesus is God’s ram for us in relation to our dads. Because of Jesus taking our place on the altar, we as sons can be restored to our fathers and our fathers can be restored to us.
Living with Peace
We are all on a journey. Journeys are full of ups and downs, back-and-forth’s. There will likely be more pain, more misunderstandings and untimely words. Because of the inward groaning we all experience in this broken world, we don’t get it perfectly even when we’re on the path of redemption.
But God is with us. Jesus is restoring each of us.
As we allow Him into the painful parts of our lives, and as we allow Him to reconnect us not only with the Father, but with those who caused the pain, we find healing. We find peace.
And peace is always something worth rejoicing over and holding on to no matter how many ups and downs are yet to come.
Have you experienced forgiveness? Are there any questions you have about how to forgive? Share your thoughts in the comments below.
