The Prodigal Daughter

My favourite artist is Charlie Mackesy. I started to know of him in a roundabout way.

It wasn’t through his drawings, paintings or sculptures, for which he is famous.

It was through his down-to-earth, wobbly, and earnest sharing at services at Holy Trinity Brompton, London, which I download. In these sessions, he seems gauche… unfamiliar with public speaking and nervous. It shows through his voice. But it is precisely because he is unpracticed that he is compelling.

His voice rings true, with uncompromising honesty. He is cuts through religious speak. He shows you how strange the ritual of church services can be for the uninitiated. He tells you of his own unexpected faith. He suggests, through jokes and quotes, that we see what Christianity is really about. The grace of Jesus Christ, not church buildings. The love of the Father, not religiosity. He ends his speeches abruptly.

He paints the grace of God.

I have a poster of one of his paintings over my desk at home, where I work. It is called The Prodigal Daughter.

It is based on the story of the prodigal son, in Luke 15: 11-31. I like what Charlie says about this parable.

It isn’t really about the wayward son, although preachers and pastors often focus on him. It is about the amazing love of the Father.

On this painting, Charlie writes:

“This is the story of the prodigal daughter – it should really be called the running Father who waited every day for his girl to come home – the daughter who had rejected him so badly – but when he saw her from a long way off – he ran to her and hugged her and kissed her”

The one desire that all of us share is to be loved unconditionally. The greatest deception we all face is that this love can be found in other people. That is why we spend so much time romancing others, feeling the thrill of emotion and desire. When this ebbs, when our hope for perfect love is not met, we seek alternatives. We search for other people, places, trophies, successes, ideas, and experiences, that help us feel we are worthy enough for love.

We have not understood. We have not known. We are already loved in far greater measure than we can even imagine. We do not deserve it, we do not earn it.

I was a Prodigal Daughter. I had everything, but went away. For a long season I stayed wandering in the desert. It was not the first time. I thought the jewels I held in my hand were sufficient; I was enamored, fascinated. I thought they were what I wanted. I tried to polish them, to make them work for me. I did not know they were plastic baubles strong enough to chain me down.

I came back through the grace of God. He called to me. My Father straightened my paths and gave me strength to walk through them. I faltered several times, turning back, looking back, because I could not see the firm ground that lay ahead. My trudge out of darkness was half-hearted, for I thought I was already walked in the light. Only after I began my journey home, did I know how precariously I lived.

But He was faithful, and His love is healing.

“… I pray that you being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge – that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.” Ephesians 3: 17-19