Strange rewards

This week is on Luke 15:22-32:

"But the father said to his servants, 'Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let's have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' So they began to celebrate.

"Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 'Your brother has come,' he replied, 'and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.'

"The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. But he answered his father, 'Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!'

" 'My son,' the father said, 'you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' "

When I was nine or ten years old, I remember being furious about the school administration's new policy of rewarding delinquent students for turning in their homework and passing tests. When someone who was a chronic troublemaker showed signs of improvement, the principal would give him a certificate, or buy him a cupcake or something. The problem for me was that I always turned in my homework and passed my tests, but I was never awarded a certificate or a cupcake. If I was going to be penalized for being consistently successful, why put in the extra effort? Any aspirations I had for becoming a straight-A student were put to death that year.

Years later, I would find myself getting angry when I read the parable about the prodigal son. I'd identify with the older brother, who put in the hard work, and who denied himself, only to see his profligate brother get the reward. Where's the big brother's reward? Where's the party for the guy who stayed faithful in the first place?

The answer is that the big brother's reward is available to him at all times. All he has to do is ask. The wayward little brother's reward was offered to him because he had made himself a stranger. He'd lost his access to the father's blessing. He took it and used it up. He rejected the father's protection and his position in the family in order to go do his own thing. He had no more right to the father's goodies than a stranger off of the street.

When the younger son came back and repented, everything changed for him. His father offered him a taste of the blessings that would soon again be his. He forgave his debts. The reward wasn't a reward for being a good son, but a celebration of his redemption. The father was happy that the son he'd written off as lost was now back in the family. He now had one more son than he had the day before. Have you ever found something of yours that you were sure you'd lost? It feels great!

The question here isn't "What's the point of being consistently righteous?" It's "Why stay even a day longer in separation from God?" The older brother could have had a party anytime he wanted to. He became complacent. He was so far from the contrast between lonely sin and the blood ties of family that he couldn't see what really happened that day. All he saw was a reward for something he was already doing, given to someone who had done wrong on a level he never had. But isn't there always going to be someone who is going to see us that way?

As Christians, we can party with God anytime we want to. We can get miraculous provision for any of our real needs. We can even get crazy blessings if we ask. There's no room for jealousy in a family steeped in abundance. Meanwhile, it's easy to lose sight of that when God rewards one of us for leaving our sin.

The reward isn't so much a reward for position, but for trajectory. It's not a recognition of holy velocity, but of acceleration. Movement is a sign of life, and movement in the right direction is always rewarded. We can party with God any time we want, but how many times do we genuinely move in his direction and seek him? How many times do we genuinely become aware of our mistakes and repent before him? These are the things that cause heaven to rejoice. Not the stagnation of remaining as you are, being thankful only for what you are not, but the refreshing experience of renewal.

Where are you dead now but would like to be alive? That's the thing to focus on, to bring before God, not the list of what you're already good at. Focusing only on what you're already master of will only lead to stagnation and bitterness as the rest of the world grows and passes you by. Heaven doesn't rejoice at the person who stops growing, because that person is inert. Instead it rejoices at growth, creation, and renewal.

Jesus taught over and over on this. The Pharisees lived a good lifestyle in so many different ways, but there were a lot of things they fell short of. Jesus loved them, so he gave them some hints on how to get closer to God and cause heaven to rejoice. ("If you would be righteous, go do X") People who don't even do the good things the Pharisees did often misread these verses and use them as a tool to judge others, but it's not about that at all. Jesus said "Come back" to everyone, not just the regular unrighteous, but the religious unrighteous as well. He says it to us too. There's always something else we can do to get closer to God, and when we do, we're reminded of our place in his kingdom and his family.

So, why spent even a day more in separation from God? Join him and party with him. Rejoice with heaven that you're part of the family. Answer his call to come back, just a little bit closer than before, and reap the little brother's reward.