I Want to Live Like a Redeemed Prostitute

As I was considering my walk with Christ and, as I’m apt to do, comparing it to others, I read a parable Jesus told in Jerusalem, in the temple courts after He, Heaven’s King, entered what they called the “Holy City” on a young donkey. The chief priests were questioning Him in front of the crowds, because they wanted to shame Jesus publicly so that the people would stop listening to and following Him.

There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work today in the vineyard.’

“‘I will not,’ he answered, but later he changed his mind and went.

 “Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but he did not go.

“Which of the two did what his father wanted?”

“The first,” they answered. 

Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you. For John came to you to show you the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes did. And even after you saw this, you did not repent and believe him.”

Why was this story recorded? Why would Jesus say that tax collectors (who were known for their wealth from robbing the population) and prostitutes (who were known for… well, you know) would enter the kingdom of God ahead of these “righteous” men?

I believe Jesus recorded this so that we who desire to follow Him would understand that it’s our actions, not empty words, that the Lord desires. Secondly, as we look at the people who questioned Jesus in contrast to the people He mentioned, it’s not our outward acts of righteousness that bring us to close to God (as the chief priests may have thought), but humbling ourselves, believing Him, and obeying.

There are a lot of Christians that say they want to walk like Jesus walked and have a ministry that looks like His. Do we really stop and think about the grittiness of Jesus’ ministry? It was dirty, uncomfortable, thankless, even extremely painful. Jesus sat down and ate with people who destroyed families, who hurt people; who would lie, steal, cheat, have sex with anyone to get what they wanted. Have you thought about that? He was constantly pressed on all sides by people that just wanted to be near Him to get their needs met and move on with their lives, apart from Him. Yet, Jesus lived perfectly for us what He said were the greatest of God’s commandments to follow,

“‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”

Matthew 22:37-38 (from the Torah, Deuteronomy 6:5 and Leviticus 19:18)

I have experienced, in a much smaller way, what it’s like to live in a culture very different from my own, among a people that doesn’t have a relationship with God like mine. I write newsletters that pretty it up (and facebook statuses that could be put on a Christian bookstore poster), so that it can be shared in Sunday School classes and prayer meetings, but there are very difficult, painful, gritty things that I experience that are far from pretty. I couldn’t make these things a prayer request a children’s missions class could put on a construction paper heart and magnet to the refrigerator. Here’s a simple, yet profound truth: the world in many ways is an ugly place and Jesus came to the world to save it, not to condemn it; to serve, not to be served; to sacrifice Himself and die, not to be enthroned on an earthly throne and live a long life.

Jesus loved others and loved God better than any of us could. And still does. That includes those that followed Him. He taught them, He restored them when they betrayed Him, He washed their feet, He fed them… when they didn’t believe Him, He rebuked then lovingly drew them back to Him.

We shouldn't just look at our lives and consider how we’re loving and serving the lost but also around how we are loving and serving our brothers and sisters in Christ that are broken and are being sanctified just like we are (rather than "righteously" comparing ourselves to them, and condemning, as I tend to do). Those of us that serve in full-time ministry do not have adventurous lives full of wins and victories. We often have discouraging, painful lives full of loss and grief. This can have a lasting effect on families, as you and I have all seen or heard of divorce, suicide, prodigal children, adultery, abuse, and other terrible outcomes in the lives of families that have served in full-time ministry.

What does that mean for us who want to fulfill God’s purpose for us in loving and serving like Jesus did?

Extend grace, when it isn’t deserved, because God’s sufficient grace was extended to me.

Love, even when someone is unlovely, because even while I was still a sinner, Christ died for me.

Forgive, even when someone hasn’t asked forgiveness or even deserves it in my opinion, because Christ has forgiven me (and continues to... even when both He and I know I don't deserve it).

Sacrifice my comfort and safety to allow the Lord to redeem others through me that are without comfort and security, because that’s what Jesus did. And He did it for me.

My family is far from perfect. We have bumps, bruises and scars. Many other families in ministry and that sit in the pews next to us at church are the same way. That silly keychain engraved “WWJD” kind of turns my stomach, because saying “What Would Jesus Do” on your keychain is not the same as living it. I want to get dirty, be uncomfortable, be hurt, be betrayed, be in an unsafe situation, because that’s what Jesus would do. And, if that means I need to sit in the dirt with you, my sister or brother, I will. It’s not because of who I am, but who He is and what He’s done and is doing in me.

I am the prostitute… the sinner that Jesus redeemed. He was willing to be close to me when I was filthy and completely unworthy and still does. But, then, when I’m lying in a ripped up, scraped, dusty, and bloody heap at His feet, with accusers all around me, Jesus gently reaches down and picks me up. He gazes into my eyes while brushing the dirt and tears off my face and lifting my ripped gown to cover my nakedness, He lovingly says, “I don’t condemn you. Go, and sin no more.” This doesn’t just make me want to go and not sin, but to go and glorify Him who redeemed me.

Lord Jesus, give me a heart of gritty compassion like you have. Please forgive me, Lord, for I have been, even while on your mission field, like the second son in your parable, saying I’ll obey you, then not doing what you said. Help me to be willing to love the liars, the cheaters, the violent, the adulterous and vile… even the “righteous” condemning people that say they’re my brothers and sisters, like you do. I have no right to compare my walk with others’ walk with you. We are all sinners. None of us is righteous, and if I look at myself honestly, I’m the most unrighteous. Please, Precious Savior, forgive me for acting like the Chief Priests in the temple. Help me to be like one of the prostitutes you talked about that inherited the Kingdom of God (I’m looking forward to meeting these, my sisters, one day!). You have lovingly and graciously redeemed me and are faithfully sanctifying me daily. Give me a mind of understanding and wisdom, as I know that you give generously without finding fault (James 1:5)… and I have a lot of faults that you could find. I humble myself before you, Lord, knowing that I have nothing in myself that is of worth, but with you, I have everything. Thank you for graciously filling me with your Spirit so that when I don’t know what to do or even what to pray, when I let you, you can do it and pray it in and through me. Do your work, O my Rock, my Redeemer. Thank you, Lord Jesus, for your faithfulness to me even when I’ve been faithless. May your Name be glorified and your Light shine in and through me and in and through your Bride, the church.

Glory, Hallelujah! Amen