The parable of the prodigals

Part nine of nine

Luke 15:11–32

A lesson about waste

We know the main lines of Jesus’ most memorable parable. It’s about two sons: the younger one chomping at the bit for some lively adventures; the older one slaving away at home and complaining about his hard work, his boring existence, his wasteful brother and his far too generous father. The younger son is driven to repentance when his money runs out and he is left friendless and hungry, working for a pig farmer. The older son never does repent; he just complains. But the father never stops looking out for the returning adventurer, and never stops reaching out to his critical hard worker. And the story ends without ending – the father is still appealing to his older son to come join the party. But we don’t know what he’ll decide.

We’ve called this story “The prodigal son” and usually assume it is mostly about the younger of the brothers. We let our imaginations run wild as we speculate about all the illegal and immoral things he must have done. We see him destitute and starving in the pigpen, and marvel at the grace of his loving father, who forgives all those sins and welcomes him back, not as a servant, but as a son.

If we are perceptive, we notice that the parable is also about the other son. He is actually just as wasteful as his younger brother. He doesn’t waste money on frivolous pleasures; he wastes a perfect opportunity to enjoy a loving home (not to mention some good parties), by slaving away in the fields criticizing everybody else.

“All these years I’ve been slaving for you and I never once disobeyed a single command,” he proudly asserts to his father. What he doesn’t realize is that his father’s heart was after something else. The father wanted a loving relationship.

Falling short

This story is not so much about legal disobedience; in fact we’re not sure the younger son actually violated any laws. Even the claim that he wasted his money on harlots is only found in the mouth of the older brother. Did he really know what the young man had done with the money?

The younger son did sin immeasurably, yes, but we should not measure his sins by comparing his behaviour to an objective law code. He sinned against his father, his family. He “fell short” in relationships. And that is what his father’s heart was after all along.

The two brothers have some things in common. The younger one says, “Dad, give me now my share of the estate” (paraphrased: Dad, you’re living too long. I don’t want to wait until you’re dead.) The older one says, “All these years I’ve been slaving away for you” (paraphrased: I thought I’d be the boss by now. How much longer are you planning to live, Dad?) In the light of such attitudes, isn’t it amazing how far the father was willing to go to restore broken relationships?

In his book The Cross and the Prodigal, Kenneth Bailey reports an “aha experience” that occurred when he studied this parable with peasant farmers in the Middle East. (Their culture even today is very much like the one in which Jesus’ parable was first told.)

These people never asked, “Was it illegal for the younger son to ask for his share of the inheritance?” Their question was, “How could a son bring such shame on himself and his family? How could he take advantage of family relationships like that?”

They never asked, “Was it illegal to sell the land and move to another country with the money?” Their question was, “How could anyone treat his family so shamefully?”

When Bailey reached the part about the father running to meet the returning prodigal, the peasants responded in amazement: “The father, too? Would he also bring shame on himself?”

“How’s that?” asked Bailey.

“Because an old man wouldn’t run.”

“Why not?” asked Bailey.

“Because he would have to lift up his robe.”

Suddenly Kenneth Bailey understood something new. The younger son is on his way back home. What can he expect? The villagers will mock him, laugh at him. Children will spit at him or turn their backs. He has scorned and shamed his family and village, and they will respond in kind.

But the people of the village see something totally unexpected. The father, so scorned by his son, does something that will make him a laughingstock. He picks up his garment and runs. He makes a fool of himself. That was unheard of for a man his age in that culture. Now the children would mock him, too.

And so these two, father and son, come into the village together, both objects of scorn. The father was willing to sacrifice his own honour so his son would not have to come home in disgrace alone. Kenneth Bailey understood: grace is a loving God, taking on our shame and exchanging it for glory.

Taking a risk

Perhaps that is what this parable is really about: two prodigal sons, one recognizing the priority of relationships, the other still struggling to catch on. But even more, about a father for whom relationships are so important he’s willing to risk his honour, willing to submit to scorn, willing to break all the rules of propriety, if only relationships with prodigals can be rebuilt.

Do you know what “prodigal” actually means? It means “generously wasteful,” and so we apply it to the younger son who lived a frivolous life wasting money on things that really didn’t count, and in the end didn’t make him happy. And sometimes we apply it to the older brother who wasted – by slaving and complaining – a perfectly good opportunity to enjoy a wonderful home.

Have you ever thought of calling this “the parable of the prodigal father”? What a generous waste to kill a fatted calf to celebrate one little lamb that is found (Luke 15:3–7). What a generous waste to spend 10 coins on a party to celebrate finding one that was lost (Luke 15:8–10). What a generous waste to throw a party for a son who has just frittered away half your fortune. But God’s like that!

Here’s a father willing to throw away his honour, if necessary, to welcome a returning son. He’ll come begging a self-righteous son to quit working so hard and join the music and dancing. And he’ll do it, even if there’s not much chance the son will actually come. What a waste!

But if even one sheep is found, one coin is found, one child comes home – well, he’d spend his whole fortune to make that happen. That’s just how God is!

For reflection:

• Which of the sons do I identify with most easily? Why?
• How has God been generously wasteful with me?

Tim Geddert teaches New Testament at MB Biblical Seminary, Fresno, Cal.

This is the last in the Bible study series on Luke. The series began in the Sept. 24 issue.