The Motive

“The Motive” Sunday School Lesson for February 3 When I first started tithing as a Christian adult, I had to work my way into it. I started out with a portion of a tithe and then ratcheted it up $5 every couple of weeks until I made it to my target. Financial hard times came. I kept tithing. Things got worse. I mentioned my financial problems to a Christian friend of mine and he asked if I was tithing. Tithing was a big deal at his church. “I give $60 every week,” I told him. That was a lot more than a tithe for me, and he knew it. My financial situation continued to deteriorate until I relented and gave up tithing for awhile. Oh, I was still active in my church fellowship, even teaching two classes at church, but I got really nervous and convicted when the lessons were related to financial stewardship and church giving. That period of time when I wasn’t tithing was very humbling; it was, I believe, God-ordained, because it was during that period of my life when I realized just how humanly proud I had been while I was tithing. I knew a lot of other people didn’t, and in my own mind I was farther along than they were, at least in that one area. God obviously didn’t like my attitude. None of us has any reason to boast – what, after all, do we have that we didn’t receive? When we’re doing everything we’re supposed to do according to the list of God-pleasing things we espouse, we tend to think more highly of ourselves than we ought to think; you see, God is a lot more interested in our hearts than He is in what we appear to be on the outside, even if we do give sacrificially every time we get paid. God didn’t need my $60 a week, as important as it was for me to make the sacrifice. What my Lord wanted to build into the new heart of flesh He had given me was humility, and we can’t usually see how proud we are until we’ve either done something stupid or until we’ve stumbled. So He set me up, and I had it coming. Have you ever experienced a humbling like that? When I eventually worked my way back up to a tithe, I did it with a lot more humility; that was God’s doing, and it was marvelous in my eyes. In a word, a person can develop wrong motives and do the right things for the wrong reasons; each believer is a work in progress, and Jesus tirelessly works through our circumstances to bring us away from where we used to be and how we used to think to where He wants us to be. So what if a person who is a bona fide member of the family of God has wrong motives and deliberately does the wrong thing? There have always been piously religious people who are, in their own minds, doing everything right (externally) and they just can’t see others through the eyes of Christ. It’s a pride thing, an insidious trap laid for us by satan, who is the father of pride, lies, lust, murder, and every other evil known to man. Have you found yourself thinking negatively about people Jesus loves? In our better moments, if we’re honest, we all know we have stumbled over that trip wire. It’s rather Pharisaic for us to do that… Now, let’s get started on our Scripture text.

Luke 15:1 - 2 (KJV) 1Then drew near unto him all the publicans and sinners for to hear him. 2And the Pharisees and scribes murmured, saying, This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them. In their religiously cliquey way, the scribes and Pharisees piously observed this strange Teacher from Galilee as He moved among the common people, and they were disgruntled to notice that Jesus was willingly in the company with hated tax collectors and the people of the street, conversing with them and even sharing in their meals. How refreshing it must have been for those people to sit with Jesus, see the warmth of His eyes and feel the touch of His hands rather than having a few copper coins tossed in the dust at their feet by self-righteous religious men who knew God’s law inside out but wouldn’t even look them in the eye. How many Pharisees had shown the hated tax collectors, prostitutes, and street people this level of care and concern? How many scribes had been humble enough to sit with them, break off a chunk of their crusty bread with unwashed hands, drink weak wine from their lip-stained cups and try to feel what life was like in the dusty shadows where they lived? You see, Jesus understands people (including you and me) a lot better than people even understand themselves. And people like the tax collectors and sinners were in a self-perpetuating spiritual state – they were rejected out of hand by the religious leaders of their day and time, and they saw no way out of their spiritual predicament. What does that do to a person psychologically? We’re all trying to gain the approval of those around us in some measure, and to the extent that we succeed in that pursuit, we feel worthy. Religiously, they knew they’d never meet the approval of the leaders in that arena, so why try? Unlike the religious leaders by whom they were rejected and spurned, Jesus expressed a love and concern for them that these street-wise people knew was gentle, genuine and without guile. Further, He didn’t seem in the least intimidated by the Pharisees and scribes, with their broad phylacteries, flowing robes, and pseudo-intellectual diatribes, and when Jesus heard their murmuring and turned to address the self-righteous, the street people must have hung on every word… Verses11 - 12 11And he said, A certain man had two sons: 12 And the younger of them said to his father, Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his living. Everybody loves a story – word pictures in story form can get a point across like nothing else, and since Jesus designed and built us from the ground up (fallen though we are, through our own devices), He knows how best to communicate His truth to a listener. And for what it’s worth, I believe the stories Jesus told actually happened; who else would be so uniquely qualified to know every element of a story like this? In the Person of the Holy Spirit, Jesus knows the thoughts and motives of every person. Here’s the deal – rich man – two sons, one more responsible than the other. That sound familiar? Usually (not always) the oldest child is more responsible than the youngest.

Okay, here’s another point that our pastor made a couple of sermons ago: The father not only gave the youngest child his portion of the inheritance, he also gave the oldest child his portion. In the Jewish economy according to God’s law (see Deuteronomy 21:17), the youngest boy would have received only half as much inheritance as the oldest. So let’s put this in a contemporary light: The youngest son triggered the whole deal. He probably didn’t get along with his older brother anyway, and he wanted to get out of Dodge. The oldest son gets $100,000, while the youngest gets only $50,000. Still a pretty handsome payoff, but let’s also realize that old Dad is still in control of the family farm, house, and the land, even though his boys have their money. Dad banks the increase when the grain is in the elevator and the grapes are in the winepresses. Sure he has pretty much emptied his savings account into the boys’ purses, but he’s not out on the street and he didn’t retire, move to town and turn things over to anybody. He still runs the show and gives the servants their marching orders. The oldest son has an eye for the future; he knows how productive the farm is, because he works in the field with the servants every day. What’s his motive? Well, it’s not because he loves his father, but because he knows the place will be all his when the old man dies, and the harder he works, the more the place will be worth – he has big plans to bring in one bumper crop after another – maybe one day he’ll build bigger barns to store his goods so he can eat, drink, and be merry... And since his brother took the money and ran, he won’t have to deal with that annoying little creep when the farm finally becomes his. He never expected to see his brother again. Verses 13 - 16 (KJV) 13And not many days after the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living. 14And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in want. 15And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country; and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. 16And he would fain have filled his belly with the husks that the swine did eat: and no man gave unto him. The youngest son was living for the here and now, like too many Americans. Every day was a brand new day of adventure, with something new to do, something more to buy, and another party to enjoy. He had lots of friends and the good times lasted for awhile. Wealth makes many friends, as we’re told in Proverbs 19:4. He hadn’t thought of his father, the farm, or the green, green grass of home for months. He also hadn’t thought of what he would do when his money ran out, which is typical of a teenager on his or her own. Okay, let’s make this contemporary again: Imagine one of today’s teenagers who had just received $50,000 cash from his dad so he could hit the road and make his place in the world. The first thing this hypothetical teenager would do would be to spend a large portion of his inheritance on a new 4 wheel drive pickup or some sleek and sporty car.

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Well, the vehicle cost $30,000, and he only has $20,000 left. Like a senator or congressman handling our tax dollars, this silly boy has not invested the money wisely, nor is he even trying to save any of it. He has no income to replace it. When he is at the end of the cash, he sells the car for less than half of what he paid for it just so he can move it quickly. He tries to be more frugal with the $10,000 he has left, but after a few weeks, he has wasted that money too. Now it’s time to get a job, only there aren’t any jobs, because the local government has raised taxes and all the businesses are closing their doors and going elsewhere in search of lower taxation. Farmers are struggling too, because the skies are hot and bright and there is no rain. The ground is dry and dusty. But he’s hungry and he still needs a job. What does he know how to do? The answer is almost nothing – wait! He does know how to feed and care for animals. Dad taught him that… how might Dad be doing right along now, by the way? Never mind. No need to think about that right now. Gotta get a job. He puts in his application everywhere, but the only person who will hire him is a stingy and frugal swine farmer who pays him pennies a day to slop the hogs. What can you buy with pennies a day? Almost nothing. He can barely buy enough for a snack, and he has lost a lot of weight. He’s dirty all the time. There is nowhere to take a bath, barely enough water to drink. He has started growing whiskers. His face always feels dirty and itchy. He gets a little hungrier every day. Then, suddenly, he has a sobering thought:

Dad treats his servants a whole lot better than this… Verses 17 – 20a (KJV) 17And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father’s have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! 18I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, 19And am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants. 20And he arose, and came to his father. It was a long walk home. He replayed his homecoming over and over in his mind. He would ask the chief servant to arrange for an audience with his father. The pangs of homesickness and regret that had been tugging at his heart as he wasted his substance now grew to a roaring flame of self-castigation. He realized how rich he had been as a child, how safe and well fed. How he missed the crisp clean hay in the stables and the rich moist dirt of the freshly plowed fields, the clear, flowing streams, the rolling green meadows dotted with sheep and cattle, the richness of his father’s house and yard, – all of it lost to him now, but for the hope that he could work as a hireling and take orders from his brother. The work would be hard, but he would do it with zeal, and he would be an inspiration to the other servants. And he would serve the farm until the day that he died, although no longer as an heir. He had blown that. But he would never leave the farm again. He would do humble work as a hireling. He thought of his father’s hirelings again. The servants, if you could call them that. By his

present standards they lived like rich men! They had clean quarters, a gentle master, good meals, fresh clothing, and regular baths. A bath…. How long had it been since he’d had one? He didn’t remember. How long since he had slept in a bed? There had been that first hotel room, but he hadn’t slept much that night… He kept walking. For days. He drank muddy and rancid water from broken cisterns and yearned for a drink from Dad’s living fountain. He chewed on bits of dry grass. Would he starve to death before he made it home? Famine-scorched land slowly gave way to tree-clad hillsides and olive gardens. Fruit orchards and family farms like the one he left so long ago, with their grain storage facilities, their well-fed hirelings, the oxen and donkeys going about the business appointed for them by human taskmasters in the light of a golden sun painting its beautiful way through the evening clouds in this fair and bountiful land that seemed like heaven to him now. He asked for food and water at a couple of farms only to be turned away. This looked like heaven but it didn’t feel like it… Nobody trusted him. Nobody cared for him. Would he get the same treatment from his father’s hired servants? In the light of a silver moon accompanied by a thousand twinkling stars, he stretched his exhausted body out by a gnarled juniper tree, hungry, thirsty, dirty, barefoot, and alone and dreamt of feasting in his father’s house. Awakening in the wee hours, he came to himself again, and a tear crept from his eye to make its way across his dusty cheek to stain the rock upon which he pillowed his head. Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee… Came the purple light of dawn, the crowing of roosters, the mist over the fields, the movement of servants to their work… He came to his feet. His head felt light at first, then the lightheadedness gave way to a morning headache. His joints were stiff. He brushed his hands together, stretched his thin muscles and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. A deep breath… His dusty, calloused bare feet stepped onto the hard packed earth of the road once again… A few more hours’ walk, and he would be able to see his father’s sprawling farm and that comfortable villa he had called home for nearly two decades. Would he even be allowed to enter the house? He didn’t deserve it – but he remembered the warm comfort of the servants’ quarters, and the rough wooden table in the bunkhouse from which he would take his evening meals. Still, anything would be better than feeding those stinking hogs. He was grateful that he had walked far enough to air the smell out of his clothes… Who was he kidding? A person who had bathed regularly would smell him from twenty feet away, and he knew it. Over the hill now… there’s the road leading to the farm, with Dad’s land on both sides of it and stretching out as far as the eye can see. There’s the house, with the big shady tree in the yard and the front porch. Is that the head servant over by the stables? Hard to tell from this far out. Wait! Who’s handing that bundle of straw to the stable boy? It’s Dad! He’s looking this way He recognizes me! Here he comes!!! Okay, ready to confess my sin before my Father. I’ve practiced this speech enough to breathe it without thinking…

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Luke 15:20b - 24 (KJV) But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him. 21And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son. 22 But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: 23And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry: 24For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry. Who among us can say we have had no need to confess our sins to the Father? The person who believes they are without sin deceives themselves, and the truth is not in them (First John 1:8). Have you ever noticed that some of the most powerful public witnesses for Christ are those who have fallen away from God and then, like the prodigal, have come to themselves and have returned to Him, fully aware of their unworthiness? To the contrary, some of the most lukewarm believers in the body of Christ are the pious and the self righteous who have (like me with my tithing experience) come to think that God loves them more because of their supposed faithfulness. Not so! Let’s face it from the perspective of God – none of us has any reason to boast – we are saved through faith, not works of any kind. Don’t misread that – we are indeed saved for the purpose of good works. Our Lord expects us to be rich in good works and He gives us multiple opportunities for those. As a matter of fact, He pre-ordains those works! (see Ephesians 2:8-10). But from a heavenly perspective, when we do everything our Lord has commanded us to do, we should still see ourselves as unworthy slaves – nobody has ever out-given or out-served our Lord Jesus Christ. Note His words from Luke 17:10: “So likewise ye, when ye shall have done all those things which are commanded you, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants: we have done that which was our duty to do.’”

Our lives should obviously include confessional prayer, our worship, active service to and prayer for other people, and the discipleship, mentoring, and training of new believers. All those things AND good works. Sort of like tithes AND offerings, right? So, what is it that motivates you and me? God only knows the motives of each person’s heart, and He knows better than we do just how far we, like the wayward son, may need to walk in order to get from where we are to where we should be! Now, finish this study by reading Luke 15:25-32. Remember the oldest son, the one that stayed behind? In the final analysis, he was farther from the father in the end than his brother had ever been. Like the prophet Jonah who hated the Ninevites God loved, the older brother’s motive was revealed in his attitude toward his dreadfully sinful but repentant brother… is mine? Is yours? R.W.M.