“I can never forgive myself,” he sobbed. A few friends standing nearby understood. His had been a prodigal life, at least for the past few years. He had much for which to repent. He had sinned against God, his family, his community, himself. The friends joined him in wondering how he could ever make things right.
Like the younger son in Jesus’ story recorded in Luke 15, this young man had been headstrong. He had turned his back on his family’s values, including the faith in which he had been reared. And like the younger son, he “had come to himself.” Tragedy had brought the young man face to face with his mistakes and the heartache he created.
His mother would never know her son “had come home.” Could he make amends to his father? To his siblings? To his church? And even if they forgave him, how could he forgive himself for all the harm and hurt he had caused?
Some of us have sat where that young man sat sobbing. Between our tears we have haltingly cried, “I can never forgive myself.” Perhaps it was in repentance from a prodigal lifestyle. Perhaps it was in repentance from a prodigal deed. No matter the reasons, we were haunted by our sin.
If the sobbing words mean we will not take sin lightly, then the words are on target. One cannot be cavalier toward sin. Sin is serious. Sin is against God, others and ourselves. Sin destroys. Sin hurts. Sin limits. One cannot take sin lightly.
If the words mean we refuse to believe we can ever be forgiven, then our words deny what Christ did. Christ died to forgive all sin. He forgave the murderer, the thief, the adulteress. That same kind of forgiveness is offered every prodigal no matter the lifestyle, no matter the deed. God offers that forgiveness to you and me.
What God offers us through repentance and faith in Jesus, we owe to ourselves. God forgives us. Since God forgives us, we can forgive ourselves. The past can be the past. The future can be lived as a reconciled child of God, as a rehabilitated individual, as a redeemed soul.
Just as the father in Jesus’ Luke 15 story welcomed the erring child back into the family, so God the Father welcomes repentant prodigals into His family through faith in Christ. God forgives our past. So can we.
Does this mean that life will be as if the prodigal period or prodigal event never happened? No. It does not.
Living on the prodigal side of life frequently leaves scars. Some scars are physical. Legion are the names of diseases and physical problems associated with prodigal living. Some scars are emotional and mental.
Pain cannot be retracted. Damage cannot be undone. Abuse of others and of self takes lifelong tolls.
Sometimes the scars are limiting. A careless deed or a single conscious failing can change a future forever. The concrete results of a single prodigal act become lifelong scars. No matter how much one regrets the deed, the scars remain. We see them. So do others.
Like a world class runner hobbled by a pulled muscle, we limp through life limited by the scars from the time and experiences on the prodigal side. Dreams may be struck down by the scars but the forgiven prodigal is not destroyed. The scars may be limiting but the one who has returned home is not crushed.
Some might ask if these scars are not eternal penalties and question if the prodigal has really been forgiven. Such reasoning makes forgiveness more than reconciliation and says it includes wiping out all consequences of prodigal behavior as well. The Bible offers no support for this view. Jesus forgave the thief on the cross but the civil penalty for his transgressions was still carried out.
A more biblical view is to see the scars as signs of God’s redeeming grace. Despite our “prodigalness,” God loves us. Jesus died for us. We are forgiven. The scars we see in ourselves and the scars others see in us testify to the grace of God. He loves us enough to forgive us when we turn to Him through faith in Jesus Christ.
The truth is all of us carry scars because all of us “have sinned and come short of the glory of God.” Some scars are more evident than others and some more limiting than others but everyone is marked by scars.
Instead of whispering about each other’s scars, perhaps it would be better to rejoice in the abundant grace of God to welcome home such a scarred child.
Thank God He welcomed me home and thank God He welcomes you home as well.
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