The Reconstructed

I will dive in further in a moment, but I was struck by something in the previous post about pastors. My former youth pastor Jason pointed out something regarding the role of pastors as under shepherds in relation to the only Good Shepherd Jesus Christ. Every pastor because they are human is broken and every person that has a pastor ultimately belongs to Christ not to another human being. 

I think it is helpful so long as it does not let pastors off the hook. They are not solely responsible for keeping or controlling the people under their care. One shouldn’t control at all. Certain personalities are simply too controlling and prefer to place a gap between themselves and others. Pastors should be judged based on character and disposition. Do I want this person as a pastor because of their charisma, ability to sell well, and their ability to be authoritarian or because they deeply care and bother to know me?

Fathers. 

My favorite book probably of all time is Henry Nouwen’s The Return of the Prodigal Son. It is beautiful. It does so much through looking at one piece of art. It dives into the stories of two sons, but he puts quite succinctly in the third part of the book, something that was new to me. We typically spend time trying to identify ourselves with one of the sons. I was either wayward or fiercely loyal and somehow my heart has bent toward not loving the Father in both cases. Nouwen states that we probably end up identifying with both sons at various points in our lives, but the purpose of the story is ultimately a movement towards being like the Father. The end goal of the story is to become the Father.

It doesn’t make us less of a son or daughter. We are always sons and daughters, but we grow and aim to be like the Good Father. 

And the Father is where we should look. What I find most compelling when I reread the Luke 15:11-32 passage is how tenderness I see in the Father. He demands nothing of either son in the story. The closest thing to a demand is the choice to celebrate the waywards son’s return. He is excited at the return of his son and he is compassionate to both sons, ultimately telling both of them that what’s his is theirs. 

My biggest obstacle in life and faith in the last couple years has been around one concept. It comes from Hebrews 11:6 “And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.” It is the idea that God rewards. Or maybe it is around the concept of earnestly seeking him. Investigating God and finding that He pays well. 

I don’t exactly know what I should expect. I’m told bread not stones, fish not snakes, eggs not scorpions, that His plan is not to harm me but give me a hope and a future, that God gives good gifts to His children. I could go on. I must believe God has good in store. I must not doubt if there feels like there is evidence otherwise. I must focus on the good I’ve been given and step out in faith. 

I feel like when I have focused on the good it’s fleeting. And I’ve found myself asking for a Father, for embrace, for an invitation to the party, to be seen so well that I have no more need for sorrow. To feel less invisible and less like a ghost. Has anyone ever felt this way? Overlooked? Taken for granted? Missed?

Perhaps I am not alone. I am one of many children who God has made a room for.

My dad always left the light on, my dad paid for my school, my dad made sure I was fed and loved. My dad feels gone aside from memories and voicemails and pictures of his smile.

Yet a Heavenly Father holds me. 

He must, I tell myself. This is not a myth or fable. Christ is a friend who sticks closer than a brother. God is a God who sees, an adoring mother, a good father. He allows himself to be ours. Can I believe that when I end this sentence? When you close this blog?

How do you remember this so well?