In The Prodigal God (Dutton, 2008) author Tim Keller takes the Bible’s most famous parable and presents it from a radically different perspective, challenging preconceived notions about what it means to be “lost.”

Lost and found

Yes, you know the story. Spoiled younger son demands his share of the estate. He takes off and squanders it all on wild living. He comes back to his senses and returns home repentant. The father forgives and reinstates him immediately, throwing him a lavish feast. And they lived happily ever after. Right? Wrong. The story actually ends with a tense confrontation between the elder, “obedient” son and the father. Enraged by his father’s extravagant outpouring of love, the elder son complains bitterly about his own unrewarded, unrecognized loyalty toward his father.

Redefining Lost

Both sons—the wandering younger and the insincere elder—were equally lost. Proximity is only a secondary issue; it is possible to be lost in a far away land as well as lost in plain sight. What matters is where one is in relationship to the Father. The Parable of the Lost Son cleverly exposes how sin can manifest in those who are shamelessly belligerent and those who are inwardly defiant.

The Lost Boys

The intended audience for this story was not the morally corrupt but the religious elite, the Law-abiding Pharisees, as represented by the elder brother. Much like the elder son, the Pharisees possessed a false sense of self-righteousness due to their tireless compliance with the Law. Though their behavior was impeccable, even exemplary, their hearts and motives were entirely self-serving. To Jesus, they were lost and did not even realize it.

The Prodigal God

God’s response to our “lost-ness?” Unconditional love and astonishing humility. For the younger, a robe, a ring and a feast fit for a king. For the elder, a humble, heart-wrenching plea from a father desperate for his firstborn to realize how loved he is. Both demonstrate God’s prodigal, or reckless, love for a world of lost sons. He will hold back nothing—nothing—to see his beloved ones reconciled and restored to their rightful place. Jesus, in his life and especially in his death, is the ultimate expression of God’s heart. The cross shows us that our God is a prodigal God.

Land of the Lost

Lost sons abound. They are living la vida loca on campuses nationwide. And they are sitting in church pews every Sunday at 11am. Had Jesus spoken this parable today, the intended audience would not be the wild childs and party animals of the world, but the Church, the people of God. Just like the Pharisees, we are in danger of becoming obliviously lost in our own self-righteousness. Worse, our ignorance to our own condition deems us useless to the millions of lost younger sons who never find their way home. And so, it is we Christians with whom the Father stands outside the house, pleading for us to come inside and to embrace younger brothers everywhere. For, it is only when we realize our propensity to become lost that we, along with our lost younger brothers, can have hope to be found.

2009 was a hard year. The economy crashed. Overwhelming numbers of people lost their jobs. Wars took place in the Middle East. Natural disasters occurred around the world. There were floods in Asia, forest fires in California. And last but not least, swine flu caused a panic all over North America and the rest of the word.

On a smaller scale, I discovered last year that many of my close friends come from pasts of pain, physical and sexual abuse, wounded hearts and scars from childhood–myself included. Even those of us who have accepted Jesus Christ into our hearts as our savior are still wounded and plagued by past trauma, suffering and guilt.

The year 2009 was a year that I personally realized the power of sin and the weight that it has over humanity. Sin is the root of all the world’s evils–things such as greed, cheating, and murder. It causes people to hurt each other, even abuse their own children. This sin has been carried down from generation to generation and it gives Satan such pleasure because he has convinced the world, the world that God originally had created in perfection, to love sin.

But God sent His beautiful Son, Jesus–so sinless, perfect and pure–as a living sacrifice, to overpower and cast out the sins of this world. Jesus walked this earth and endured Satan’s temptations, yet was able to resist them all. He was completely human yet completely divine, a lovely incarnation of our beloved Lord God in heaven–and He loved us so much that He died on the cross so that our sins would be forever washed away, a feat impossible for anyone else to accomplish. And all He asks for in return is for us to love others and to love Him, as He loves us.

So, despite the hardships of 2009 and any of the years before or after that, Jesus brings joy and hope for the future in the salvation He already gave us. All we need to do is accept His salvation and love Him.

Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mormons, and Christadelphians believe that the Holy Spirit is an impersonal power that comes from God but is not God himself. Their view is an incomplete one—just the tip of a colossal iceberg. It is a misconception that many Christians seem to possess. We shouldn’t be fooled by the visible tip of the iceberg, but rather look deeper into what lies beneath the surface.

Scripture states that the Holy Spirit is a person who can think (1Cor 2:11), feel (Eph 4:30), will (1Cor 12:11), and speak (Acts 13:2). The process of knowing and becoming aware of the person of the Holy Spirit is compared to the growth of a newborn baby. When a baby is born, he is not fully aware of the presence of his mother. Rather, he is only cognizant of the presence of a “nipple” through which he gets food. A baby is near-sighted and cannot recognize the “person” of his mother. But as he grows up, he begins to recognize her, gradually becoming aware of her presence as a person.

By the same principle, when we are born again, we don’t easily recognize the “person” of the Holy Spirit. We recognize only the “benefit” of the Holy Spirit. But as we grow in obedience to God, we begin to recognize the person of the Holy Spirit, becoming fully aware of His presence as a person, allowing us to have a more intimate relationship with God.

He was standing right in front of me, the only other one in the room, but he wasn’t the one I wanted to see. I looked to the window, hoping to glimpse the person I was looking for, but he wasn’t there.

The one in front of me said, “I’m right here.” But I just furrowed my brow. He wasn’t the one I was looking for.

I looked around toward the door, wishing it, willing it to open. I wanted to see him walk through. But the door never opened.

“I’m right here,” the voice in front of me echoed again. But he wasn’t the one I was looking for.

I distracted myself from my disappointment by looking around the room. There were so many things to do. Listen to music. Read books. Watch TV. Go online. Exercise.

Once again, the one in front of me said, “I’m right here.” But you’re not what I want — you’re not what I need, I screamed in my head.

As if he heard me, the one in front of me desperately pleaded, “I’m right here. Won’t you dance with me?”

The music already was playing, so I begrudgingly obliged. Formally, I took his hand in mine, and we began an awkward waltz.

But I still looked over his shoulder at the door and glanced at the window. Maybe the one I was looking for would show up. But the song kept playing.

I began a list of all the things I could do, distracting myself from my loneliness. But the song kept playing.

As the dance dragged on, my hands became warmer to his touch. I took a deep breath, and the stress vacated my body. Relaxing, I leaned in closer to him, closing my eyes and resting my head on his chest.

Suddenly, I realized that the one in front of me was the only one I was looking for.

I placed my feet on top of his, like a little girl and her Father. Instantly, we were twirling around the room as if we were one. Pirouettes and dips, even some leaps.

A giggle escaped my smiling lips. I hadn’t heard that sound in a long time.

Every year, one of the more popular fashion and beauty magazines parks a “makeover” trailer somewhere on the streets of Manhattan. They then proceed to grab gleeful young women off the sidewalk, whisking them into the trailer for an hour or two, where they then emerge fabulously gorgeous–complete with a new hairstyle, makeup, and spring fashion trend.

I admit that I was always envious of these lucky people and hoped that one day I’d accidentally walk into the vicinity of one of these “glam-mobiles” and be offered such a deal; a free makeover session and a chance to appear on the pages of a magazine.

I have often wondered about America’s obsession with makeover shows on television. We will sit patiently through all the annoying commercials just to wait for “the big reveal” on shows like Oprah. It’s as if we want to believe that all it really takes is a few quick tweaks and “poof” we can be magically transformed into “the best me that I can be.” In an instant, getting only four hours of sleep is erased, tired stress lines are smoothed out, un-ironed clothes hang perfectly, and we also have perfect posture.

What makes us so obsessed with this stuff? Why do we tune in and watch shows like What Not to Wear and Twitter endlessly about Susan Boyle’s new look? Because, in a way, makeover success acts as a glimmer of hope that we are not doomed to remain just as we are. If only for a few moments, we want to believe that we’re not just “us.” We’re a new and improved version of us, not weighed down by our past or what we’ve been handed in life. The concept of the instant makeover makes us believe in fairytales; it gives us hope that we, too, can be changed in a microwaved instant.

Ultimately it’s not really a quick exterior tweak, nip and tuck that we are looking and hoping for, but a total renewal both inside and out. The New Testament states, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!” (2 Corinthians 5:17) It is our Maker who performs the real makeover–one that can fulfill our deep, innate longing to have every old wound, every painful life encounter, every victimization, every flaw and scar reworked into something beautiful and extraordinary. It is our encounter with God that can make us awe-inspiring, flawless, dazzling, and perfect. And His fix lasts a lot longer than a few pats of powder, a new hairstyle, and some bright lights. It is permanent.

Several years ago, I wrote a paper on the historicity of the Biblical Exodus. It was one of the best papers I had ever written; I put a lot of effort into my research and genuinely enjoyed the work because it was a subject I had long been interested in. Biblical archeology is a field that was first developed in the nineteenth century to use scientific procedures to prove the Bible’s historical accuracy. Today the field is much more secular in tone, but that doesn’t mean that archaeological discoveries never support the Bible. They can and do, but with one important caveat: you won’t find the “proof” you want.

Consider the Exodus: there is no account of it, either in Egyptian texts or other sources in the region, nor is there any record outside of the Bible that mentions Moses. That would seem to be a short and depressing end to the story: no proof, no Exodus, period. Yet this would be too hasty; just because there is no proof for the Exodus beyond a reasonable doubt does not mean that there exists no evidence whatsoever. We do know a lot about life back then thanks to the number of written records and artifacts that date from that time. Using what we have, we can actually piece together enough evidence for an “Exodus event” which a number of scholars agree may have occurred.

The consensus that the Exodus story is based on real events that occurred in and around the lands of Egypt and Canaan circa 1250 B.C. is based on the following points which archeologist Donald Redford calls “unassailable”: (1) there is an early memory of pastoralists from the Levant (the land bordering the eastern Mediterranean Sea) entering Egypt with Jacob as an ancestral figure; (2) they briefly multiplied; (3) Egyptians began to resent these foreigners; (4) at some point the pastoralists leave Egypt and return to the Levant (The Anchor Bible Dictionary Vol. 2). Moreover, although Exodus was written hundreds of years after the fact, some scholars agree that it may be based on an actual event, as there is no other way to explain many of its details that reveal a knowledge of Egyptian geography and society that probably could not have been invented.

While at first it seems that archaeology has given us nothing to go on, in fact, God has left us a trail of breadcrumbs to follow. We may say these crumbs are worthless because we want the entire loaf, but I think that is to misunderstand the greater lesson here. Part of our faith is just that—faith, the belief in things we do not see. As it says in 1 Corinthians 13:12: “What we see now is like the dim image in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.” God has given us what we need to see; now it is up to us to decide to take the rest of it as a leap of faith.

• John 2 – Jesus performs his first miracle at a wedding in Canaan – turning water into wine. I catch myself thinking about how awesomely delicious that wine must have been.
• Why do we stress the story of Jonah to kids in Sunday school? I’m not sure if it was thought out, because He’s the worst, most insubordinate prophet who refused to listen to God.
• Gen 1:28 “And God blessed them. And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth…” Sex was God’s first command and our first blessing. He wanted us to have sex and make babies. Lots of sex and lots of babies. And he wanted us to have so much sex and so many babies that the whole world would be filled with babies. I couldn’t think of a cooler plan.
• Jesus was a homeless man from a dumpy, rural hick town born from a teenage mother and worked a blue-collar job as a carpenter for most of his life, yet he still seems to be the most famous person to ever grace the earth – and all without joining pro wrestling.

Here’s what my typical Monday schedule looks like- I wake up at 8:45am and get ready for a 9:30am class. After class, I have ten minutes to rush over to Kimmel, grab a take-out and then head over to take the subway to work at a middle school in Chinatown.

After work, I walk all the way from Chinatown to 1^stAvenue and 12thStreet for another one of my classes. After this two-hour class, I then walk back to my dorm to drop off all my books and change into workout gear. And for the next two hours, it’s workout time. After working out, I quickly run back to my dorm, take a quick shower, and head to a SEED meeting. And after SEED, comes homework, papers, and more studying. Every day, between the hours of 8:45am to 8:45pm, I run on this tightly packed schedule. Every step I take has to be fast, efficient, and worthwhile.

Have you ever noticed that everyone in New York City walks with such fierce determination? They never walk as though they’re at their leisure; they all seem as though they have some important mission they need to accomplish. While living in the city for the past seven months, I noticed that I have been similarly influenced by the city as well.

Don’t get me wrong, as a freshman in college, I realize that I do actually have many important responsibilities and tasks to fulfill. Not only do I need to take care of my work, but I also need to manage my social life, friends, and family. But from my job at America Reads to my classes, I am forever swamped with work.

No doubt my schedule is busier than it has ever been. Even when I’m in the shower or running on the treadmill, I tend to think of and analyze my crazy schedule. Should I pick up my paycheck first or go to my advisor’s building? Do I have time to pick up my timesheets or is it too out of the way? Often, I feel like there are not enough hours in the day for me to accomplish all the things I have to do. At the end of the day, I lay in my bed and think of the busy day I had; and then I think of the busy day ahead tomorrow.

But is it all worth it when all I care about is accomplishing everything on my schedule?

As I’m writing this, and contemplating tomorrow’s schedule, I realized something. Not once did I mention accomplishing something on my schedule for someone else. Everything I do everyday pretty much revolves around me. Now, trust me, I am definitely not the type of person that only cares about myself. I care a lot about my friends and family, and most importantly, God.

I guess that living in a fast-paced city like New York makes everyone get caught up with his/her own life. I realized this one day, when, even when I saw a girl drop all her books on the floor, no one, including myself, stopped to help her. All of us saw what had happened, but none of us walking by were willing to take a minute of our time to care for her. I remember asking myself why I didn’t help her even though I felt so terrible ignoring her. Because, I told myself, helping her would have taken time. Caring takes time.

Rather than using a few minutes to care about someone else, we often use it to go online, watch TV, or hang out with our friends. With those few precious minutes, we rarely use the time to seek God or help others in need.

Sometimes, for a few minutes out of our busy schedule, we need to stop and look at our lives. We need to be thankful for what we have and connect that with sharing with others. Instead of running around obsessing about our schedules, we should take the time to be more thankful and actually prioritize our schedule for serving God and others in need. Instead of having our schedules revolve around ourselves, how about we let it revolve around others and God?

Religion that God or Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted from the world. (James 1: 26-27)

The cars in front of me slowed suddenly, almost as if to a complete stop on the expressway. Glancing to my far right, I saw the reason for the sudden deceleration to about 25 miles per hour. A white NYC police cruiser was wedged on the side of the highway between a large bunch of pines and the highway fence.

Even though we had all been cruising along steadily only moments before in broad daylight, going approximately at or slightly above the normal posted speed limit of 55 miles per hour, we acted like guilty lawbreakers about to get away with a crime as we passed by the police vehicle.

Ahh, the power of fear and guilt. Even when we are actually innocent and doing nothing wrong, we feel it creeping up and attacking us; as in, what if I actually gave that tourist wrong directions when I really wasn’t sure? or; What if I was actually a smidgen over the speed limit and the radar captured and recorded it?

Parents and teachers often unleashed this power on us when they wanted us to finish our assignments on time or be home in time for dinner. And we often use this weapon against each other when we really want to get what we want out of our friends and loved ones.

But does God use guilt to get us to do what he wants? Or is this overwhelming power simply a product of our minds and simply being human? I looked for instances in the Bible where someone felt devastated at realizing that they were, in fact wrong, and Jesus smugly crossing his arms and tapping his feet, with a knowing fake smile on his face; knowing once again that he was right, and they were wrong…

Somehow, even if it wasn’t in the Bible, I can’t imagine it ever happening. And that’s a relief. I think that rather than being urged to face our bad qualities over and over, we are instead encouraged to face the reality of life; that we are never going to be perfect, but that we are always completely or slightly off the mark. We don’t need to worry about God placing false or unrealistic fears of consequences upon us.

I often hear the church or organized religion being criticized because when you go there, then you start to feel bad…and guilty…and oh so wrong. But that’s not the true motive of God, or of the church. A church is a place where we mutually encourage other people that have also screwed up. It’s not to inspire guilt that grips us with fear or to weigh us down. Human guilt is there to spur us to action, to make us better; it’s a form of positive reinforcement, not fear.

Nature reflects reality. Look at a tree carefully for three minutes. Where was the tree born? In a grave. The seed was planted in the ground. It died and disappeared. Then, later, life grew out of it.  Where is the tree standing? In its grave. The tree reflects the resurrected life from the grave. Jesus, as a seed, fell to the ground and died. He was buried and disappeared. Then, after three days, He, like a bud, rose from the grave. He rose with a resurrected life from the grave. The grave is the foundation of a resurrected life. Those who follow Christ also die to the world and rise from the grave. The life we have is the resurrected life from the grave. His death is our death. His resurrection is our resurrection. Let’s live every day rooted in the death of Christ.