BRAKE LIGHTS - the real story

I hope you enjoyed the poem – if you liked watching it anywhere near as much as I love performing it then I’m happy. I’ve done it so many times now for different things, but for the first couple of years after I first wrote it, I genuinely couldn’t read it without tears coming to my eyes. Please don’t get me wrong – that’s not because I find my own poetry is so beautiful that it makes me cry; that would be, you know, quite weird. No, I cry because this poem is based on a true story, and it’s genuinely my favourite story in the world.

When I say it’s a ‘true story’, I don’t mean that there was literally a father who let his son run away from home and then welcomed him back – although I hope that there have been a few – I mean that it’s a story Jesus told to explain something that is deeply, deeply true. (If you want to read it in his words, it’s here.)

Jesus says that a son came to his father and demanded his share of the inheritance there and then. Which is basically like saying, “Hey, Dad, you know that thing that’s supposed to happen when you die? Can we just act like you’re dead already so I can take the money and get out of here?” But what’s really strange is that the father doesn’t flip into a rage and tell his son that the idea is ridiculous and how dare he insult him like that – no, strangely enough, he says yes. He breaks up his family land, sells half of it, and half of his stuff, gets the money together, and gives it to his son. He lets him go. And Jesus is trying to tell us that God is like that. God loves us so much, that he lets us go – he gives us freedom. He doesn’t want us to be robots – incapable of anything but obedience – he wants us to be free. He loves us desperately and he wants us to choose to love him back. So when the son says he doesn’t want his Dad anymore, says he wishes he was dead, says he wants to leave, the Father swallows down the lump in his throat, holds back the tears and says: ‘yes’. And that’s where the poem starts – the son drives off into the distance, and his brake lights fade away until it’s all just dust at the end of the day.

And of course after a while the life he’s carved out for himself starts crumbling away in his hands. All the meanings he’s been weaving for himself tangle and fade, and his heart cries out there must be more, yes please yes please, there must be more.

And there is. Because what he doesn’t know is that the father’s waiting. Heart breaking, hands shaking. This is the bit that makes me cry every time. God waits.

Because in the story Jesus doesn’t say, ‘And like a rejected lover, God picks himself up and moves on.’ No. He tells us that when the son finally decided to make the long journey home, the father saw him coming while he was still a long way off. Because he was waiting. Every day since his son had run away he had loved him, and longed for him, and watched and waited for him to come home. And here’s the really crazy thing: God longs for you. He genuinely does. He hasn’t given up on a single one of us. Whoever you are, whatever you’ve done. If you are sure for some reason that if there is a God he certainly isn’t interested you – he is. If you’re sure he couldn’t love you, he does. Even if you’re sure that if there is a God you aren’t interested in him – he’s still desperate for you. He’s still waiting, and as strange as it might sound, his heart is breaking. Because loving someone means becoming vulnerable to them, it means handing them the power to cause you incredible joy or intense pain.

Jesus’ best friend wrote these words: “This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son as a sacrifice.” God loved us first. He made himself vulnerable to us, and when Jesus died with “Father, forgive them” on his lips, the world saw how much it cost. How much it hurt for God to love us. But Jesus died so that we could come home. So that if we’ll swallow our pride and come back, the Father will run out to us. And he won’t notice that we’re a mess – that we stink of sweat and dirt and humiliation. He’ll just pick us up like we’re still three years old and he’ll hold us close. And he’ll give us his best clothes to wear, and lift up our heads so that our faces will never again be covered with shame.

And he’ll throw a massive party for us – a party to celebrate us. He just throws him a feast and tells everyone he knows that his son is back from the dead, and yes that is what I said, his son is back from the dead. Because here’s the thing: Jesus didn’t stay dead, so now we don’t have to either. Jesus didn’t stay behind the stone, cold and empty and alone; so now we don’t have to either. He says that if we’ll die with him – if we’ll forget about ourselves and get completely lost in love with him – then we will surely live with him. He will bring us out of the darkness and into a life of love that starts right now and never, ever stops. And it sounds too good to be true, but it’s not. Because Jesus said that we’re God’s kids. And he loves us. Loves us enough to let us go; but then if we’ll choose him, he is always ready, always waiting hoping someday we’ll come home; and when we do there is nothing that could hold him back and nothing that he wouldn’t do for us.

I have no idea what you think about all this stuff. But I genuinely think it’s true, and obviously I think it’s the most important, most beautiful thing there is. So if you’re interested at all I’d love to chat with you, or help you think about it in any way I can. And in that spirit, I thought I’d offer everyone an early Christmas present. There’s a brilliant author called Tim Keller, who has written a whole little book about this story, and about how Jesus shows us a God who is so wonderfully different to the one we expect – it’s called The Prodigal God, and I can’t recommend it enough. And if you would like to read it, I’d love to send it to you! Whether I know you already or you're just a friend of a friend or whatever, just email me your address and I’ll send you a copy! It’s mikehood1994@gmail.com

Or if you’re thinking, actually this all sounds nice, but is there any reason at all to think that it’s actually true? - the same guy wrote another book, which is also brilliant and was actually a huge best seller, called The Reason for God. It’s about the big challenges to the idea of faith, trying to answer those big questions, and then hoping to explain why faith in Jesus might make sense. So if you fancy giving that one a go, also just email me, and I will send it to you. Because it would genuinely be a pleasure for me to give it to you – and of course it’s Christmas. Nearly.