The Prodigal Son: Part 1, What Is Freedom?

The son of a wealthy rancher came to his father with a demand:

“Dad, give me my share of your estate.”
“But son, I haven’t died yet.”
“So what? I still want you to cash in your IRA and your insurance policies, sell your stocks, and give me my share of the money.”
“But son, where are you going?
“Someplace a whole lot better than here.”
“But, son, what is your hurry?”
“Dad, you haven’t let me experience the world. How can I become my own man while I am living under all these binding rules? I need freedom!"
“But son, what is freedom?”

This essentially is the opening of the Biblical story of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15). In the Biblical account: (a)the son wanted his inheritance—Father, give me the share of property that belongs to me. (b)The father gave him his share!—So he divided his living between [his two sons]. (c)The son split—Not many days later, the younger son gathered all he had and took his journey into a far country.

The father in my account asked a good question: "What is freedom?" Is it a “life without limits”? An unrestricted life would be like driving a car without any road rules—Demolition Derby here we come! Proper limits actually increase our freedom. I feel free to drive my car on the highway because I know most drivers will obey laws like: “Drive on the right side of the road.”

Peter Kreeft has written that God’s laws are the fence He puts up near life’s cliffs. I welcome a fence when I am standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon—it is for my protection. Though I still have the freedom to blast through it or leap over it, the predictable result will be a shattered body. The rules in the Prodigal's household were a blessing to that young man. He began to be in want after he fled to the far country.

God’s laws, then, are designed to shelter us. When a couple refuses to wander sexually, it gives them a more satisfying sex life (as surveys show repeatedly.) When a person refuses to manipulate others, he delights in healthy relationships. When a leader rejects enthroning himself, he will find joy in serving others. There is a moral current to this world. You have the freedom to paddle upstream. But is that freedom?

Gardening the Soul: The Harvest, 8

Special Times and Seasons

Late summer is watermelon time in Texas. Young Allen Lacy asked his granddaddy why they couldn't eat it all year round. This elderly man's thoughtful reply was:

We have watermelons because the Good Lord saw fit to give us watermelons. It was one of the better things He did, and special things need special times and seasons. God gave Texas a little more heat than most places just so that our watermelons would be the best on earth. It's a blessing, but the last thing in the world we need here in Texas is a few more months of heat, just for the sake of more watermelon.

Unfortunately, most grocers are not bound by "times and seasons"—I can buy peaches any month of the year. But how does a January peach taste that was picked green in South America, trucked to a port, shipped to a U.S. port, trucked to a warehouse and, finally, delivered to my grocery store? What do you think?! It is either stone hard or mushy soft. After dozens of disappointments, this fool is learning to resist the false hope of non-seasonal fruit. I now spend my money on fall apples, winter citrus, spring asparagus, summer peaches.

The challenge in life, too, is to enjoy seasonal fruit. Solomon claimed: There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven. (Eccl.3:1) Are you a parent of young children? Then enjoy the sweet taste of morning snuggling and bedtime reading, of candid conversations and corkscrewed reasoning, of trusting spirits and untrustworthy emotions. That delicate fruit will soon be gone. Don't crave a child who uses the toilet and sleeps through the night and carries on a rational discussion (which won't happen until they are 40!).

We South Dakotans joke that we have two seasons—winter and road repair! And both provide abundant ammunition for complainers. A number of years ago Cathy and I recognized that we were habitually crabbing about our bleak winters. "Why does it have to be so cold?" "I don't think spring will ever come." "These icy roads are horrible!" "I'm so tired of being cold; I can't wait to be hot." "Why would anyone choose to live here?!"

Stabbed by prisoner Paul's claim that he could be content in any and every situation, we sought to enjoy the season of winter. We bought cross-country skis. We put a wood-burning fireplace in our new home. We spend time with friends more frequently. We bundle up most winter days—if the snowdrifts aren't too high or the wind-chill too low—and hike with our dog. Our goal is to embrace the slower pace of winter. While the garden and other warm-weather activities lie dormant, we have more time to read, reflect, converse, write.

Do you find yourself in poverty? Are you going through a season of poor health? Have you recently become empty-nesters? When our boys were young it was a challenge to get them to taste new food. "Com'n. Try a little taste. You'll like it." Maybe our heavenly Father is coaxing his kids in the same way. "Com'n. This season's fruit is superb. Won't you try a bite?"

Gardening the Soul: The Harvest, 7

The Expectations of the Harvest

One seed catalog described several varieties of the same vegetable: "adds zest to salads," "most astonishing," "out-standing tenderness," "bursting with flavor and nutrition," "distinctive flavor." Which exotic vegetable were they describing? The green bean! All these tinseled descriptions make it difficult to know what a mature garden looks or tastes like.

Many of us are no less ignorant of the flavor of a mature relationship. Mildred Walker's novel, Winter Wheat, tells the story of Ellen Webb—the only child of her American father and her Russian mother. While attending college, Ellen fell in love with Gil, a young man who came to her farm home for a summer visit. But after a shortened stay, he bolted home. When mom tried to comfort Ellen, Ellen exploded, blaming her parents’ marriage for Gil’s departure:

"I'm not like you, Mom, so I'd do anything to get a man to marry me!” Mom looked at me so blankly it made me all the angrier. “Don't look as though you didn't know what I was talking about. I know how you tricked Dad. I overheard you the night after Gil left. I know he married you and took you to America because you told him you were pregnant. And when he knew you weren't going to have a child it was too late. He was married to you, and he was too honorable to go away and leave you." I couldn't seem to stop. I watched my words fall like blows on Mom's face.

"And you've gone on all these years hating each other. Gil felt that hate. He could tell just being here. That's one of the things that drove him away from here, from me." I almost choked on my own words. I guess I was crying. Mom was still so long I looked up at her. All the color had gone out of her face, except in her eyes. She shook her head. "You don't know anything, Yelena. In our church if baby is not christened we say she go blind in next world. I think you go blind in this world—blind dumb! She stopped and then went on slowly. "No, Yelena, I never hate Ben `an Ben don't hate me. I love him here so all these years!" Mom touched her breast and her face broke into life. Her eyes were softer, "Me hate Ben"! She laughed.

Mom explained that she had deceived her father. But it was only because she was seventeen, in love, and had already lost all of her family during World War I. Though Ben was upset by her deception, his love wouldn't allow him to hold a grudge. Mom looked at Ellen and sighed: “Yolochka, you don't know how love is yet."

What does a healthy marriage look like? a healthy friendship? Many of us hold a ripe friendship in our hands but don't recognize it because it has a few blemishes. As Jesus agonized over his date with the cross, he confessed to his disciples, Peter, James and John: "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death." As he strained to obey the Father's will, he im-plored his friends to keep watch and pray. But his friends promptly fell asleep--not once, not twice, but three times! How many of us would hang onto friends who snored through the crisis of our lives? Though certainly disappointed, Jesus knew his friends' hearts: "The spirit is willing, but the body is weak." All mature relationships have frequent failings.

Gardening the Soul: The Harvest, 6

A Bitter Harvest

Haggai was sent by God to ask the Jews to reflect on their puny harvest:

"You have planted much, but have harvested little. You eat, but never have enough. You drink, but never have your fill. You put on clothes, but are not warm. You earn wages, only to put them in a purse with holes in it." (1:5f)

Why were these frustrated people troubled by the proverbial “hole in the pocket?” God explained: "What you brought home, I blew away. Why? Because of my house, which remains a ruin, while each of you is busy with his own house." (1:9f). As the Jews returned from captivity in Babylon (6th century B.C.) and began the rugged task of rebuilding their wrecked nation, they became consumed with their own homes. They had gone beyond providing shelter—they now lived in “paneled houses” while God's house lay unfinished and unusable. As a result of this lengthy neglect of their spiritual duties, God sent a bitter harvest as a warning.

These procrastinators, though, had an excuse: "the time has not yet come." How often have we puckered up our lips from bitter fruit but told God, "The time has not yet come." We taste the pungent fruit of a depressed child but say, "I know he needs more of my time, Lord, but I've got this new job." Or we taste the hard, unripe fruit of a chilled heart toward God and say, "Lord, I know I have been ignoring you, but I’ll get started after the holidays.” Or we taste the bitter fruit of marital conflict but promise to seek help when our child’s hockey season is over.

The perfect time never comes. Make plans TODAY to tackle an issue you know God wants you to deal with.

Gardening the Soul: The Harvest, 5

Measuring the Harvest

I coached my youngest son's traveling soccer team for seven years. Though the team had few elite athletes, their hard work had enabled them to compete with many elite teams. As we approached our very last tournament, I envisioned a storybook ending. The two best teams were in the other bracket and we were the best in our bracket. I dreamed about us playing in, and winning, the championship game. What a joyous harvest after all the years of disciplined work!

The first team we played had never beaten us. In the closing minute of the game, the referee (who was forty yards out of position) whistled us for a foul, awarding them a penalty kick—which they made. The referee clearly made the wrong call, enabling that team to tie us 1-1. I was very upset, yelling repeatedly : "That's the worst call I have ever seen!

In our second game, we opened strong, leading 2-0 at half. But questionable officiating and sloppy play led to a 3-2 loss. On one occasion, I angrily slammed my hat to the ground to protest a call. My fantasy of a championship had evaporated. During our final game we were clobbering the next best team in our division 4-0 at half. It was probably the best soccer the boys had ever played. I thought: "Well, at least we'll go out on a high note." But the second half was a complete disaster. We were badly out-played and were lucky to preserve a 4-4 tie. The game ended with a fistfight—a first for my team. As I went home that evening I was mostly disappointed in myself. Had my temper fueled their fists? The fruit in my life was sour that day.

Though I have been gardening for several decades, I still mess up. I might forget to water seedlings during a hot spell or overlook an insect invasion. Does this mean I should sell my hoe? No. I must look at my garden—and my life!—more panoramically. Before I worked myself into to funk over my coaching failure, I reflected on the past seven years. I had grown in my ability to love and lead young men, to control my volatile emotions, to trust God to give the boys the experiences they needed.

Christians often want a measure for their walk with God—the harvest provides that measure. My life is to be increasingly filled with the Spirit-grown fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, etc. When Paul wrote to the Thessalonians he commended them: "Now about brotherly love we do not need to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love each other." But he urged them "to do so more and more." God looks for progress, not perfection.

Gardening the Soul: The Harvest, 4

Harvest Math (cont.)

The multiplying principle (see previous post) applies in unwanted ways also. When Israel was running from God, Hosea warned: "Sow the wind, reap the whirlwind." (Hos.8:7). Hosea warned that if their lives were planted with the seed of wind, they would reap a tornado of trouble.

Many don't recognize their empty sowing until the whirlwind knocks them to the ground. As Solomon regularly traveled by a lazy neighbor's field, he observed that:

the ground was covered with weeds,
and the stone wall was in ruins.
I applied my heart to what I observed
and learned a lesson from what I saw;
A little sleep, a little slumber,
a little folding of the hands to rest
and poverty will come on you like a bandit
and scarcity like an armed man. (Prov.24:32-34)

How did this lazy farmer get mugged by poverty? It happened so gradually—“a little...a little...a little"—that he never saw the bandit coming. When one stone fell from his stone wall, he thought, "I'll get to that tomorrow." When the second one fell out, he thought, "I'll put that one back when I repair the first one." When the third one fell out, he stopped making promises. His large problem (poverty) was built by small choices (not replacing fallen stones.)

Early in my Christian life I feared that I might be seized by temptation and take a major tumble. But Solomon reminds us that disasters are created little by little by little—we creep rather than leap into major sin. I might commit adultery after I harbor bitterness toward my wife, after I regularly flirt with a co-worker, after I bare my intimate thoughts to that other woman, after I choose to have a “business lunch” with her. The wall falls down a stone at a time. If I don't repair the small break-downs, I may experience a complete collapse.

But if Solomon's farmer repents of his slothful ways, can his wall be rebuilt? Maybe not. Several years ago Frank (not his real name) came to live with us after his wife booted him out of their home. One evening at dinner, I asked Frank to explain to my sons why he was staying in our home. As he talked, the pain and loneliness overcame him. Bowing his head and weeping, he cried: "My sin! My sin! I may never enjoy a family meal like this because I haven't been walking with God." Frank was right. His wife divorced him and the unity of his family was forever shattered. Though Frank's repentance helped him become a stable and godly influence for his kids (he twice followed them in moves to new cities), his wall could never be entirely rebuilt. We can control our choices, but not our consequences.

Gardening the Soul: The Harvest, 3

Harvest Math

I sow one corn seed—I reap hundreds of corn seeds. I sow a packet of tiny lettuce seeds—I reap enough lettuce to feed my Sioux Falls relatives (and the Sioux Falls relatives of Peter Rabbit!) Similarly, a Flemish scientist planted a sapling willow tree in 200 pounds of soil. For the next five years he added only water to the soil. At the end of the experiment he weighed the tree (169 pounds) and the soil (199 pounds, 14 oz.). 2 ounces of soil had produced 169 pounds of tree!

Jesus could also take his disciples’ meager plantings and produce an astonishing crop—he fed 5000 people with five loaves of bread and two fish, and had 12 baskets of food leftover! (One for each of his “we-don’t-have-enough-to-feed-them” disciples?)

Over and over I have seen God produce the same geometric explosion in my students. If God wasn’t involved in my classes, my highest praise might be: "Nice class." Or, "A pleasant way to spend Saturday mornings." But one woman wrote: "My marriage has been hanging by a thread. This course came at such a crucial time. It gave me the strength to hang on to this marriage by looking to His word. I have found verses that spoke to me, giving me direction when I felt lost." And was this a marriage and family class? No. It was Introduction to the Bible! When God wants to transform a life he isn't limited by the syllabus! Another student who was "quite nervous" about his lack of Biblical knowledge, wrote: "I had never attempted to read and truly understand the Bible. Yet, after diving heart first into it, I found that what I had feared was not to be found. Not only did I comprehend the readings, but more importantly, I was able to apply the con-cepts in my life. This is so amazing to me! Something that was written thousands of years ago remains so true to life today. I feel as if there is a whole new world to discover." And many of these students quickly become seed-planters: "I must find a church and get my children involved in Sunday School. I would even like to be a Sunday School teacher! (Boy, I never thought I'd say that!) I have read some Bible verses to my family and I find that it is a wonderful feeling to spread God's word."

When Paul found people taking sides between him and Apollos, he asked: "What after all is Apollos? And what is Paul? Only servants, through whom you came to believe . . . I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow. (I Cor.3:5-7) The marvel of my students’ growth has little to do with the small seeds that I plant. It is humbling, and often exhilarating, to watch God multiply my 2 ounces of effort into 169 pounds of heavenly fruit. I love God's math!

What small seeds is God asking you to plant? Take a risk! Watch the all-powerful Mathematician work His wonders!