I had seen the previews of a monster movie entitled “Creature from the Black Lagoon”. Though I was only eleven years old, I had made up my mind that as soon as it hit the screen, I had to see it. I saved up forty cents, which was enough money to ride the bus to the Strand Theatre in downtown Birmingham and still have enough for a ticket to the movie.
I don’t remember why I went alone that day, but I had dreamed of seeing the “creature” for several weeks, and I guess I just couldn’t wait for anybody else. Did I ask my parents if I could go? Did I tell them where I was going? I honestly don’t remember if I did or not. I do remember being so happy just to be “on my own”, just like a grown-up…buying my own ticket… making my own decisions… watching what I wanted to watch, when I wanted to watch it!
The thrill of my independence, the excitement of the movie, even the fact that I dared to watch such a scary motion picture—all of it was exhilarating to me. I watched “The Creature From the Black Lagoon”, not just once, but three times that day in the movie theatre. What a great time I had… nobody to tell me what to do, nobody to tell me how to act. I did exactly as I pleased, and it was great! Besides, once you pay to get in you can stay as long as you want, so I was getting my money’s worth.
All of these years later, I can still remember the sudden and drastic change that sent shockwaves through me as I left the Strand after the third screening of the “creature”. Walking outside, I saw that it was getting dark and I was lost. I didn’t know where the bus stop was, and I didn’t know which bus to take or which direction to go. I couldn’t remember if I lived on the East side of town, or maybe the West side, or was it North? I didn’t know if I lived five miles away, or ten, or more. When you’re a little boy, the city is so big, and you don’t even know how far a mile is! In the ecstasy of my adventurous trip to town, I had never thought that later it might be nice to know how to go home! Then I remembered something even worse. Even if I knew which bus to take, I had no money for a ticket. Fifteen cents for the bus to go downtown, and twenty-five cents for the movie, and my forty-cent budget was depleted. I had never even thought about the return trip!
Frantically and hopefully I walked the streets of Birmingham, looking to try to find some familiar place that might give me an idea of which way to walk home. I circled around several times, coming back to the same spots. Just a few hours before, I had been proud and self-assured. Now I was a just a frightened, lost little boy. A sense of absolute panic gripped me. My throat tightened, and my knees buckled. I even began to imagine that the creature had left the theatre with me and was following me!
I had been holding back the tears for over an hour, but they finally burst through and flooded my face. I cried as if my heart had been broken. I thought of mom, and dad, and home. I just stood on the street corner and wept bitterly.
Fortunately, it wasn’t long before a kind couple noticed my tears and got me to blubber out my phone number. They put a nickel in a pay phone and called my parents, who were, as we say in the South, “worried sick”. Soon I was on the way home, though I can’t remember how I got there. When I arrived it was dark and very late, but the light was still on and the door was open. I had reached the house safely and all was well!
Nobody punished me or lectured me about what I had done that day. Dad said that I had suffered enough and that I had learned my lesson. He also said that he was just so glad to see me that he couldn’t even think of giving me a whipping.
Please notice my last sentence again, if you will. It tells a remarkable truth that I don’t want anybody to miss. It is a story of pure grace, of unconditional love. My father said that he was so happy to see me that punishing me never even crossed his mind!
Many years ago Jesus illustrated this amazing concept of grace by means of a simple story, which he told to some religious leaders because they were “too good” to welcome common sinners. It was about a prodigal who returned home from a wayward journey of rebellion. Though the son had sinned foolishly and frivolously, his father was so glad to see him that he didn’t even think about punishing him. Without lectures or shame or threats or probations, without condescension or reluctance or recrimination, the father just simply RAN to him, kissed him, hugged him, gave him gifts, and called for a steak dinner, music, and a celebration!
The clear message of the story is that this is the way God feels toward his children when we go astray. With open arms He longs for us to come home. Even the opening chapters of Scripture reveal to us a God who walked into the garden at dusk, looking for his wayward children and calling, “Where are you?”
When I was watching the “creature” movie for the third time, it never occurred to me that back home there was a kind father and mother, as well as three younger brothers, who were waiting and worrying and praying and hoping for my safe return. They didn’t even have a car back then. But they were there, waiting not with anger, but with a desire to love and accept and welcome me home.
If you have gone astray, whether carelessly or deliberately (and all of us have), you are missed, and you are still wanted, and you are so very welcome to come back home! No matter where you are, or what you’ve done, or where you’ve been, or how long you’ve been gone, please know this: the door is still open, and the light is still on. There is no lecture awaiting, no punishment in store, and no scathing rebuke about how wrong you were. Instead there are tears and hugs and kisses, music and dancing and laughter, and great joy! All of the other people there will understand, because they too have gone too far, sunk too low, and stayed away too long. But our Father says that it doesn’t matter any more, now that you’re home. And deep down inside, you will wonder why you waited so long to join the party.
In fact, when you start to hear the music playing, you will remember that you’ve heard it before, a long time ago– even when you were a child.
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