Lose Your Luggage

Today on Feeding My Faith, why did Jesus teach us about the prodigal son?

Kick the doors open, let the party begin.

Hey.

Welcome to Feeding My Faith, where we make God simple.

And last week at my church, we had a guest pastor who mentioned the prodigal son.

We had a singer who mentioned the prodigal son.

And I was like, you know what?

I think I'm going to talk about the prodigal son now.

If you're new to the Bible, this is a parable that Jesus shared.

And here it goes.

Goes a little something like this.

There was a man who had two sons.

The younger one said to the father, father, give me my share of the estate.

So he divided his property between them.

Now, first things first.

That's out of order.

He's the youngest son.

The estate should have gone to the older son, but nonetheless, the father did that.

Verse 13.

Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, doesn't say how long there, but set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living.

And if you're like, what's wild living?

You probably know what it is, that kind of stuff.

And after he spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country and he began to be in need.

Now, at this point, did he go, ah, crap, and go back home?

No.

Why?

Because pride, who knows why?

But that would, that would have been a good time to say, hey, Dad, I think I messed up.

But he didn't.

So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country who sent him to the fields to feed pigs.

Now, we're going to note this here in Jewish custom, like, pigs are just a bad deal.

Like, you don't want anything to do with pigs.

And at this point, you are lower than pigs.

Probably against the law back then.

So that's, that's not a good thing.

Like, not only do you have a bad side hustle, it involves pigs.

So, ugh.

He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.

So this dude is hungry and he's stinky, probably, I'm thinking, because, you know, he's probably dirty.

Don't know that there's a lot of portable showers out by the pig farm.

No, probably not.

And when he came to his senses, now here's the thing, doesn't say how long that was, how many days did he go to sleep going, ah, you know what?

Shouldn't have left.

That was dumb.

But he didn't go home, how many nights did he go to bed starving?

But he's like, nah, I blew it.

Can't go home.

And he said, and he thought about it.

It's like, man, my father's hired servants have food to spare and I'm starving to death.

I will set out and go back to my father and say to him, father, look, I have sinned against heaven and against you.

I'm no longer worthy to be called your son.

Make me like one of your hired servants.

And he's like, yep, that's what I'm going to do.

I don't deserve to be a son.

But his servants got it much better than I do sitting here with the pigs.

So he got up and went to his father.

And it says, but while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion.

He ran to his son.

Let's stop there, because that, my friends, is a.

No, no.

Running was considered undignified for adult men in 1st century Jewish and broader Middle Eastern culture.

It was generally seen as shameful for a grown man, especially an elder or a patriarch, which he was to run in public, scissors or not.

There's just no running.

This is because running required lifting one's tunic and exposing your leg, which was viewed as humiliating and beneath the dignity of a respectable man.

So not only did he have compassion like he just do.

You get the idea.

Like, he is running to his son.

Keep that in mind.

And it says, he was filled with compassion.

And it continues.

He threw his arms around him and kissed him.

And the son said to him, look, I have sinned against heaven and against you.

I am no longer worthy to be called your son.

But the father said to his servants, quick, bring the best robe and put it on him.

Put a ring on his finger and.

And sandals on his feet.

I'm wondering why the father didn't say, throw him in the shower first, but maybe not 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 party like it was 1999.

Meanwhile, the oldest son was in the field.

And when he came near the house, he heard all the music, saw the dancing, and he called one of the servants and asked them, hey, what's going on?

He said, your brother has come and your father has killed a fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.

The older brother?

Yeah, he got angry.

He's like, I'm not going to that party for him.

Basically.

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 I never disobeyed your orders, yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends.

So here again, comparing yourself to others, never a good idea.

But when this son of yours, who has squandered your property with prostitutes, so this dude was doing some wild living, all right, comes home, you killed the fatted calf for him, and the father replies, 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 now he's found.

Interesting story.

Lots of things you can learn from this.

But my question was, why did Jesus give us this parable?

Well, number one, the big lesson that we should take from this, God is always ready to see you with open arms.

He will run to you when he sees you, when you figure out, oh, man, I messed up, you repent and you turn around now.

Another reason why Jesus probably told this is, again, Satan always wants us to believe God is mad at us.

He's always trying to trick us.

Did God really say that in the garden?

Right.

He's always convincing that whatever we've done, it's too much and God will never forgive us.

He puts God in a human box so that we go, yeah, you're right.

There's no way.

But the Bible says different.

In First John 1:9, it says, if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and.

And to cleanse us from all.

All unrighteousness.

There's no exceptions there.

Most unrighteousness.

Except this.

And that.

And that.

No, all unrighteousness.

If we confess our sins.

Ephesians 1:7.

In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins in accordance with the riches of God's grace.

Colossians 1:13, 14.

For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

Dominion of darkness, to me, sounds like a ride at, like, you know, an amusement park coming this summer.

Dominion of Darkness, 37 stories, you know, whatever.

But nonetheless, we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

It doesn't really get much plainer than that.

But we love to believe that somehow we've done something that, oh, man, God's really going to be upset this time.

And look, he's not really pleased, but he never leaves us in Hebrews 10, 17, 18 their sins and lawless acts, I will remember no more.

And where these have been forgiven, sacrifice for sin is no longer necessary the debt is paid, people.

Psalm 103:12 as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us it's not ours.

Isaiah 1:18 Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.

Romans 8:1 Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

Micah There's a couple more micah 718 through 19 you will tread our sins underfoot, and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea.

Acts 3:19 Repent then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord.

Why are there so many verses like that?

Because again, Satan wants us to believe that we've really outdone ourselves this time all right, so I want to share this story by a guy named Joshua Harris, but I realize if you're under probably 20, you don't remember libraries.

And you would go in, they'd have this giant cabinet filled with these little drawers, and the drawers were about the size of a business card, and you would pull them out and it would have the name of the author, the name of the book, and something to help you identify where the book was in the library.

So this particular story starts off in that place between wakefulness and dreams.

I found myself in the room, and there were no distinguishing features, save for the one wall covered with small index card files.

They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order.

But these files stretched from the floor to the ceiling in seemingly endless directions.

They had very different headings.

As I drew near the wall of files, the first one that catched my attention was one that said, girls I have liked.

I opened it and I began flipping through the cards.

I quickly shut it.

I realized, wait a minute, I recognized every name on all of those cards.

And then, without being told, I figured out what was going on.

This lifeless little room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life.

Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail well my memory couldn't match.

A sense of wonder and curiosity coupled with horror stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content.

Some brought me joy and had sweet memories, and others a sense of shame and a regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching a file Named Friends was next to one marked Friends I have Betrayed.

The titles range from the mundane to the outright weird.

Books I have read, lies I have Told, comfort I have Given, jokes I have laughed at.

Some were almost hilarious in their exactness.

Things I've yelled at my brother.

Others I couldn't laugh at.

Like things I've done in my anger.

Things I have muttered under my breath at my parents.

I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.

Often, well, there were many more cards than I expected.

And sometimes there were fewer cards than I had hoped.

I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived.

I mean, could it be possible that I had the time in my 16 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards?

But each card confirmed this truth.

Each was written in my own handwriting, each signed with my signature.

And when I pulled out the file marked Songs I have Listened To, I realized the files grew to contain their contents.

The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards I hadn't found the end of the file.

I shut it, shamed not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a a drawer marked Lustful Thoughts, I felt a chill run down through my body.

I pulled the drawer out only an inch, not willing to really test its size, and I drew out a card.

I shuddered at its detailed content.

I felt sick to think that such a moment had even been recorded.

An almost animal rage broke on me.

One thought, really, it just dominated my mind.

And that one was, look, nobody is ever going to see these cards.

They're never going to see this room.

I have to destroy them.

And so, in an insane frenzy, I yanked the drawer out.

Its size doesn't matter now.

I had to empty it and burn the cards.

But as I took it on one end and began pounding it on the floor, I couldn't dislodge a single card.

I became desperate and I pulled out a card only to find it was really as strong as steel and I just couldn't even rip it apart.

Defeated and really utterly helpless, I returned the drawer into the cabinet, into its slot.

Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self pitying sigh.

And then I saw it.

The title bore People I've Shared the Gospel With.

The handle was brighter than those around it.

It was newer, almost unused.

I pulled out its handle and a small box, not more than 3 inches long fell into my hands and I could count the cards it contained in one hand and Then the tears came.

I began to weep.

And the sobs were so deep that the.

The hurt in my stomach, it just shook through me.

I fell on my knees and I. I cried.

I cried out of shame from the overwhelming, just shame of the whole thing.

The.

The rows of those shelves swirled in my tear filled eyes.

And I just thought, no one.

No one must ever know of this room.

I have to lock this up.

And then hide the key.

And then as I pushed away the tears, I saw him.

No, no, no.

Hold on.

Hold on.

No, please, no.

Not him.

Not.

Not.

Not here, like anybody but Jesus.

And I watched helplessly as he began to open the drawers and read the cards.

I couldn't bear to watch his response.

And in the moments I could bring myself to look at his face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.

He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes.

Why did he have to read every single card?

Finally, he turned and looked at me from across the room.

He looked at me with pity in his eyes.

But this was a pity that didn't anger me.

I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands, and I began to cry again.

He walked over and put his arm around me.

He could have said so many things, but he didn't say a word.

He just cried with me.

And then he got up and he walked back to the wall of files.

Starting at one other room, he took out a file.

And one by one, he began to sign his name on each card.

No, I said, shouting and rushing at him.

All I could find to really say was no, no.

As I pulled the card from him.

I mean, his name shouldn't be on these cards, but there it was, written in red.

So rich, so dark, so alive.

The name of Jesus Christ covered mine.

It was written with his blood.

And he gently took the card back.

He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards.

And I don't think I'll ever understand how he did it so quickly, but the next instant, it seemed I heard him close the last drawer and walk back to my side.

He placed his hand on my shoulder, looked at me and said, it is finished.

I stood up and he led me out of the room.

There was no lock on this door.

There's still cards to be written.

And so Jesus has paid the price.

There's nothing you can do.

If you confess your sins and accept Christ.

There is nothing you can do.

He's seen every card.

He's in your cabinet and still loves you.

And I know that is hard to believe, but it's true.

Luke 23:39.

Jesus is dying on the cross.

One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him.

Aren't you the Messiah?

Hey, save yourself and us.

But the other criminal rebuked him.

Don't you fear God?

He said, since you are under the same sentence.

We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve.

But this man has done nothing wrong.

Then he said, jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.

Jesus answered him, truly, I tell you today you will be with me in paradise.

And if Jesus can say it to the criminal on the cross, he can say that to you.

When I travel, I carry a really big suitcase because there are times when I'm gone for a week.

There are times when I will be dragging more or less about a five foot booth that's all packed up, weighs close to probably 50 pounds.

Plus a laptop bag, plus a book bag.

I got all this luggage I am dragging through the airport to get to where I want to go.

And I'm here to tell you, we try to go through life and Satan is going to give us more luggage to carry around with us that we don't need to, because the more luggage you carry with yourself, the slower you walk, the slower you move, the less effective you are.

Don't take that luggage.

Jesus is carrying it for you.

One more time.

First John, chapter one, verse nine.

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all righteousness.

I hope this message inspires you to drop your luggage at the bottom of the cross to go through life free from all that shame and despair and all that mental junk that Satan wants you to keep in your head.

If you like this, feel free to share it with a friend that might need it.

You know, the ones that are always just feeling.

I could never go back to church.

No, you can.

Because that prodigal father ran to his son and threw his arms around him.

That's how happy he is to see you.

Never ever forget that.

Our website feedingmyfaith.com I'm Dave Jackson from the schoolofpodcasting.com.

Hey, I came to play.

I came to testify.

Hey, every day I got.

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