I was reading on-line the other day and the issue of a "Simple Gospel" surfaced. What a concept it was to some so passé to others. It seems the uber-mench mentality of Christianity has outdistanced the Jesus of the Gospels, or have we just run rings around something banging pot lids together.

Much is made of our inheritance these days and I marvel at how many have stomped in and demanded theirs and traipsed off with a bundle over their shoulder and a tuneless whistle to while away the miles of their journey. Could this be yet another instance of a prodigal, which I can seem to be obsessed with I suppose, unhappy with the state of affairs at the ranch and taking matters into their own hands?

Much dominion taking these days smacks of "I'd like mine now thanks and I'll see ya later, gater." No wonder that a few years down the road we show-up bedraggled and beat-up edging our way onto the property confused and dazed from malnutrition and exhausted. I've used the collective we here because that's exactly where I've found myself deeply shamed and embarrassed to be considered a Christian. The older brothers of whom I am adept at being as well don't seem to make much sense not that I disdain them, I just don't have any interest in the politics of turf battles, or postures on sinfulness. You can still catch a whiff of pig-sty on me.

Perspective changes indeed when the familiar sight of home comes as one who’s felt a stranger to the place where we came to life in the first place. As with the parable the Father's guests and the Father himself don't seem to notice the shambles we've made of things; we're back we're here we're alive, the oddest guest of honor ever to grace or disgrace a feast with our presence. The lens with which we see the kingdom is adjusted here, either on the faults of others or the goodness and grace of the Father.

John