Time with Jesus - Friday, 30 March
2012
Hi all,
According
to Mark Twain in His autobiography, “Truth
is stranger than fiction; but it isn't because fiction is obliged to stick to
possibilities; Truth isn't.” In the light of this statement, what do we do
with Jesus’ parables? Were they real stories about real people, or were they
merely teachings used as illustrations to demonstrate truth by the greatest
mind Who has ever lived?
It’s
difficult thinking that Jesus would tell stories that were not true in real
life. So were these parables the product of His fertile imagination or things
that He had seen and known? We are inclined to think that they were just
stories. But the fact is, what He spoke about had actually taken place
somewhere. As the TV shows state, “Names have been changed to protect the
identity of individuals.
We
don’t have to be Jewish or Christian in order to follow His parables. Some are
so well known that people are surprised they are Jesus’ parables. The Good
Samaritan is a case in point. Regardless of our “religious” views, the story
grips the imagination and can leave us feeling rather uncomfortable!
One
of the best known parables is the Prodigal Son. The title is not really
accurate because the prodigal one was the father and not the son. But was this
parable a story or something that actually happened? By way of answer, if we
look back over Christianity for the past two thousand years, we see it repeated
regularly by men and women in every generation. The details may not be
identical, but the truth comes shining through in the lives of many Christians.
Men like William Wilberforce and John Newton. Women like Florence Nightingale. Hundreds,
dare I say hundreds of thousands, of Christians throughout the generations?
It’s true of me. What does a young man do when the bottom has fallen out of his
world? It happened to me. It’s true to say that I’m a 20th century
prodigal son.
Our
meditation this morning contains a part of my own testimony to what God
regularly does in the lives of people. I’m only one of them
Blessings
Jim & Phyllida Strickland
His Father’s Son
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He sat down in the corner with
his hands across his face.
The thing he’d done was silly
and he was in disgrace.
His parents were so far away
and he had let them down.
How could he ever tell them in
that far off distant town?
He trembled with anxiety. He
knew his foes were near.
With each and every passing
hour he trembled in his fear.
Could he find forgiveness? How
would things all turn out?
And each time that he thought
of it, his mind was filled with doubt.
He felt alone and desolate. He
couldn’t face the truth.
And life forever changed for
him that moment in his youth.
There still was so much more to
learn. He thought he knew it all.
He’d heard about the Prodigal;
about his rise and fall.
He knew he had gone home again
disgraced and wearing rags.
He knew that in the pig pen how
much his heart could sag.
But he was far too hungry. A
servant of his dad,
Was given food and clothing; a
lot more than he had.
And so he set out homeward. No
sandals on his feet;
Hoping that his father would
give him food to eat.
He didn’t know his father. At
least not how he should.
Perhaps the only thing he knew;
his father was so good.
And when his father greeted him,
the thing that he had done,
Was suddenly forgotten; he was
his father’ son.
That young man in the corner I
have to say was me.
What would my father ever say
and just how would he be?
And so I went back home again,
“my tail between my legs”.
I had received the poisoned cup
and drained it to the dregs.
My father didn’t mention it.
Just, “welcome home my lad”.
I thought that I was
gob-smacked. To hear this from my dad!
It’s not what I expected. I
thought He’d rant and rave.
Instead he just accepted me. I
thought that he was brave.
A few short months thereafter I
heard about the Lord.
I went to Him in penitence and out
to Him I poured;
The truth of what had happened.
But He already knew.
He said I was forgiven and told
me what to do.
Learn about my Saviour and put
Him in control.
He would give direction, a
purpose and a goal.
And since that very moment the
thing which I had done
Was swallowed up by Jesus. Now
I’m His Father’s son.
Jim Strickland
Written Friday 30th March 2012.
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