Few of Jesus's parables are more memorable than the parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32). (As an aside, did you know "the parable of the prodigal son" is not in the Bible? Oh, the parable is, but nowhere does it mention a "prodigal" son. The word means wasteful and recklessly extravagant, so that's where the name comes from, but nowhere in the text is the word used. And we scarcely use it anywhere else either.) The most obvious character ... wait for it ... is, of course, the prodigal son.
The prodigal son is the main point. He's the "bad guy." He goes to his father and asks for his inheritance to squander it on wild living. Think about that. He is, in essence, wishing his father dead. He rejects his father, his family, his faith. He goes off, wastes all he received, ends up with the pigs, and finally ... I love this phrase ... "came to himself." He woke up. He realized his father's servants were better off than he was. So he repented. He would go tell his father he would be a servant. And, of course, the prodigal son is every one of us. We've sinned. We've rejected the Father. We've discarded "family." We jettisoned "faith." We all have sinned, and fall short of the glory of God (Rom 3:23). We need repentance.
The next character we often mull over is this father. First, he acquiesces to his son's demands. It's not reasonable. It's not right. But he let's the boy go, knowing what was in store for him -- disaster. Then, when the boy comes slinking back with his tail between his legs, the father spies him "a long way off" and ran to him and embraced him. "My son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found." Why was his son "dead"? That kind of rebellion in Jewish culture was "fatal." You know the old, "You're dead to me"? That was the idea. They would often have a funeral for a disowned child. He was dead; he was lost. But the father ran and embraced him, brushed aside his plea for mercy, and threw him a party. If the prodigal son represents all of us sinners, the father clearly represents God, the Father. He lets us squander what He gives us and embraces us when we repent. "I tell you," Jesus said, "there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents" (Luke 15:10).
All these interactions are memorable, but we often let the other guy remain in the shadows. The older brother. He was not pleased. He was angry at his father. (Think aout that for a moment.) He had been the faithful son, and his father never threw him a party. "But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him!" (Luke 15:30). The father did not deny that his son had been there. He just asked him to rejoice that his brother was home. The text gives no indication that the older brother did. Who is he? The traditional line is the Pharisees. Maybe ... then. Today we have our own "older brother." You find them in "faithful" places like churches. They're warm and friendly to the "forgiven" -- the "in crowd" -- but not so much the soiled. I remember when stories circulated that Jeffrey Dahmer had come to Christ in prison, some were skeptical and some were outraged. "Really? A murderous cannibal?" We don't have to go so far as that to see it, though. "You heard about her, didn't you? She had an abortion." "You know, he cheated on his wife." "Did you know that in his youth he did drugs?" Or, the worst, "She voted for Hillary!" These objects of discussion are believers, forgiven, embraced by the Father. They were pursued and called and saved. Jesus died for them. But ... no ... they're not good enough for us.
The parable is really heartwarming. We see the Father, always ready to forgive. Thank God that's Him. We see the son, a truly profligate sinner who truly repents and receives both grace and mercy. Thank God we can, too. It's really, then, in the end, that older brother that is heartbreaking. There is joy in heaven when one sinner repents, but sometimes not so much among the "saved." And that's truly a shame. Don't be that older brother.
3 comments:
Nothing really profound, but the older brother could also be the fallen angels. But I agree, too often we associate ourselves with the younger son, when more often we're the older. We need to remember that we who are forgiven much must forgive much.
Reading the book, “A Tale of Two Sons,” by John MacArthur many years ago totally corrected my understanding of this parable. First, I learned that many people use the term “prodigal” incorrectly, i.e. to mean a wayward person or rebel, when it means “wasteful, extravagant, lavish” (as you pointed out). Second, I learned that the emphasis of the parable is the heart of the older son (symbolizing the Pharisees, to whom Jesus addressed the parable).
I have had the heart leanings of each of the sons at various times in my life and have needed to claim that grace, mercy, and forgiveness of the Father from both angles. Thank God He offers that so freely.
P.S. I enjoyed the video; gave me quite a few good laughs, with all the Western TV & movie references, etc. I was surprised how much Prodigal Joe sounded like Joel Osteen--deep southern accent and all.
Yes, David, I've also heard that. I'm not sure how applicable that would be to us.
Lorna, I can't hear the story of the prodigal son anymore without hearing Lorne Greene as the dad, Michael Landon as the prodigal, and Dan Blocker as the older brother. "Dad, can I borrow the Galactica?" "What?" "Oh, never mind." Of course, for most of my audience that's lost.
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