The Prodigal, the Legalist, and Grace for All
A few years ago, a friend approached me about an observation she had. I was confused by her correction as it didn’t seem that I had actually sinned. Perhaps I was so unaware of my sinful behavior that it was what some consider a blind spot—so deeply rooted in me that I couldn’t see it. But after sharing her observation with my husband and a few close friends, my conscience was clear. I don’t think I had sinned in that moment. Later my friend would confess struggling with legalism and judging others. It wasn’t that she saw something in me that needed adjustment so that I might walk in a manner worthy of the gospel. She saw something in me that needed adjustment so that I might walk in a manner worthy of her.
And I’ve done it too and I imagine you have as well. We can take our convictions or even the grey areas of Scripture and make them into rules and laws for others to obey. Somehow we believe that our standard of living, our belief beyond the gospel is the standard for all manner of life. We don’t ever want to minimize sin, yet how often do we place undue burden on others to look the way we do, think the way we do, act the way we do.
Loving the unlovable
We’ve all probably heard of the Parable of the Prodigal Son. In Luke 15: 11-32 we see a young rebellious son run away and squander his inheritance. His father was a generous man and after the boy made a request, he gave his youngest son the share of property that he would receive upon the death of his father. A famine arose and the boy is left poor, hungry, and desperate. Aware of his sin, the young boy returns to his father and is not only greeted and welcomed, he is lavished with kisses, clothing, food, and even a party. It was a celebration, except not everyone was celebrating.
The young boy had an older brother. As we get to know the older brother we quickly learn that he was obedient and a servant. We might even assume that he did all things well. And by the way he responds to his father, it might not be difficult to conclude that the older brother was a legalist. By all accounts the boy was unlovable. He was rude, proud, and arrogant. He demanded that he be recognized and receive the commendation due his name. He did not want to welcome in his younger brother because his younger brother was a sinner.
But what does the father do? Does he rebuke the older brother and turn him away? Does he judge him harshly? No. The father responds to the arrogant son, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours” (31). Why so much grace for this ungracious kid? Because as a parable goes, it’s a lesson for us and in this case a reminder that our Father loves the unlovable.
We are unlovable
Legalism or any appearance of legalism is one of the hardest sins to forgive. I think it can be difficult because so often legalists affect others. I know that when I struggle with legalism it doesn’t manifest itself privately. It comes out in a conflict with my husband or when I desire my kids to obey. It comes out when I am on social media and I see something someone posted and I question it—not because it was questionable but because it isn’t something I would post. In the past, it has come out when I’ve done the exact thing that my friend did to me, I’ve seen a grey area in Scripture but made my way the law and judged others as a result.
The truth is, whether we act out in our legalism or not, you and I are the unlovable. Our sin makes us unlovable. But in addition to our ugliness, we are much more like the older brother in the parable than we’d ever want to admit. We have grace for some but not for others. These people are okay because they live like me, but these are not. We welcome and we reject, all in the same breath. We don’t like to hear that we deserve wrath because we think we are worthy of grace, but we can look at our neighbor in disgust.
We are greatly loved
It would be really bad news if the story for the prodigal son ended with the oldest brother being kicked out of the house and rejected by his father. It would also be incredibly bad news if our fate were left up to us, based on us, or left up to other people. The good news for the older brother is the same good news for us. God welcomes us because of his son Jesus. We are unlovable but made loveable by a loving Father. We demand, but he says, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours” (2 Cor. 1:20, Ephesians 1:3-14).
Jesus’ blood makes a way for the unlovable, for the legalist, and for the prodigal son. He desires all to come to him and know him as their Savior. He cleanses us, makes us pure, casts out our sin from his sight, and welcomes us home. The father in this parable could have cast his son out for his demands but instead he chose to extend the same grace he had for the prodigal. The Father does the same for us.
Implications for us
God calls us to love the unlovable. We are to bear with one another, encourage one another, and forgive one another. We are to love those who hate us, persecute us, and even judge us. If we say we love grace and yet hate the legalists we are not like Jesus and we don’t know ourselves. We are all legalists at heart. We are prone to think we deserve something from our God for our good works just like all legalist do. But when we truly see our desperate need for grace we can extend it to others. We all need grace even to be gracious. It can be easier to love the prodigal. He has fallen and he knows it and he has changed. It’s hard to love those who appear to have it all together. But we know no one has it all together. Let’s ask the Lord to give us the grace we need to love our neighbor as ourselves. Let’s ask God to love the unlovable, just like us.
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This past week I joined five storytellers in Rwanda to meet the incredible men and women served by HOPE International and capture stories. The stories are wonderfully encouraging but their lives were a lesson to me. On Tuesday, we drove out with another organization (Aziza Life) to learn from women of the Abumurvava Village, which means “The Courageous People” and experience the typical lifestyle of a woman in the countryside. As we drove out to this village and as I interacted with the women, I couldn’t get Proverbs 31, the famous Hebrews poem, out of my head.