Waiting for Redemption

The story of the prodigal son is famous. We know about the son who came to his father and demanded his share of the inheritance. How he received that inheritance from the father, even though it was not the right time for him to get that inheritance. And, of course, he squandered it. Sometimes pastors will say that really this story is about the kind and compassionate father, the merciful father who welcomed back the prodigal son with open arms and great rejoicing. Then the story becomes one in which the father is a type of God, i.e. even when we literally spit in the face of God, He will forgive us when we return. As we listen to the sermon, we are very thankful that we have such a kind and loving father in heaven. I believe this is true; it a good and right interpretation of the parable.

The story referred to as “The Prodigal Son” is, indeed, a beautiful picture of a very godly and loving man. The picture we see of him is he is waiting, yearning for his son, looking down the road. Then he sees him from a from a distance and runs down the long dirt road to throw his arms around his son’s neck and hug the breath out of him. The father is so happy and so thankful to see his son, he sacrifices his self respect and actually runs down the road, not caring what the neighbors think, not caring what the servants might think, or whether it looked respectable for a man his age to run down the road, holding his robes up so nothing would hinder his race to hug his son. This is surely one of my favorite pictures in the New Testament.

However, we also know that parables are not the same as allegories. In allegories, each character represents a specific type or quality; thus in The Faerie Queene by Edmund Spenser, Una represents truth, the knight represents the Christian wayfarer, etc. But in parables, the symbolism isn’t quite as tight. So, journey with me for a moment. Let’s assume that the father in the story is not a type of God. What if he really is a human being, a father who demonstrates incredible love and mercy, yes, but nonetheless, a human father. Well, if we see the father in Luke 15 as a human father, then we know he is not perfect. The Bible says that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. (Romans 3:26) This father was not perfect. And therein lies the gist of today’s little blog.

I have been thinking a lot about this passage from a slightly different vantage point. I wonder whether the father and son fought for months and years before the father relented and said, “yes, here is your share of the inheritance.” Did he argue with his son? Did he try to convince him to pursue another course of action? Did they have weeks of tension in the house? Did people walk around on eggshells for fear that the wrong Hebrew word might be spoken? Was it just a miserable existence for the family in the home? Did the son sulk around the house, slamming doors?

Sometimes I wonder how many years that father waited. Was it a matter of months? Was it years? Was it a matter of days? Did he go through a period of thinking “he’ll be back soon enough! Then he’ll see.” Or did he start there and then move to the level of “what if never comes back?” to “surely he’s got to come back.” [I doubt he got to that point, because he would not have been waiting for him, looking down the road had he thought his son would never come back.]

Here is my biggest wonder: did he ever sit there on the doorstep thinking “what did I do wrong?” or did he ever think “how did I get to this place with my beloved son?” Maybe he even played the litany in his head. You know, the litany of “things I did wrong.” “Was I too strict?” “Was I too easy?” “Was I stubborn?” “Was I too controlling?” “What could I have done differently?” “How could I let him go?” “God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob…what if he never comes back?”

You see, any parent, any person, goes through that period, the waiting for redemption of a pain. For some it is not a big pain. For some the pain is excruciating. As parents, the pain we sometimes feel related to raising our children can be so deep, so gaping, so chronic we wonder if, as Jeremiah said, “our wound is incurable.” Isn’t that an awful thought?

Then we have not only the depth of the pain, the wound, but we have the issue of how long. How long will I wait for my wound to heal? Will I ever be whole again? Can I ever be whole again? Will I ever be able to not hurt? Will this nagging ache ever go away? It isn’t necessarily a long wait for some. For others it is a dreadfully long wait. For some we go through that “ha! They’ll see what life is like out there in the cold harsh world. A little reality check is all he or she needs for them to come running back.”

I guess what I came to after thinking about this father as a human parent, an imperfect parent, a parent like me, or like my husband, for some time, is that the father of the prodigal son could have thought all those things. He could have thought every single one of them. He could have done the litany in his head a thousand times if he did it once. But what I love is that even if he did the litany of the “shoulda, coulda, wouldas” he did not stop going out to the porch, he didn’t stop looking, he didn’t give up hope, he did not accept the present as the forever. He stationed himself daily at the door post, watching, hoping, looking, scanning, the horizon, waiting for redemption.

And one day… there he was. A tiny dot in the far distance…but how could he not recognize that lanky gait, the tousled hair, the strong jawline…surely it was his son. And off he ran.
I am waiting for redemption. Are you? Are you waiting for the redemption of a pain? A wound? Do you feel your wound is incurable? Do you feel that it is too deep? Too wide? Your fault? The litany? You could go through it…but to what end? Ultimately we wait not even for understanding, for figuring out the why and why-not. Ultimately we wait for redemption from the hand of the King. So, I am waiting and I look and I scan and I do so in this confidence: “Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for Him.” (Isaiah 64:4) Beloved friends, I am not waiting for the situation to change, although I do believe it may, I am not waiting for anyone to change, self included, although, this too shall surely happen. I am not waiting for anything or anyone other than the Lord Himself. I am waiting for Him, for He Himself is my redemption in any situation, any circumstance any pain any wound.

The bottom line is this…God is a God of redemption. He redeemed the cross, and therefore, will He withhold any other good thing from us? (Romans 8 ) If you, too, are waiting for redemption, then remember that our God is in the business of redeeming and therefore, keep hoping, keep looking, keep scanning the horizon, keep waiting for Him, who is our redemption. Surely, God is good to Israel, those who put their trust in Him will never be disappointed. (c.f Isaiah 45:17)