The Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32)

Luke Brunskill

As I read the Prodigal Son parable, I can’t turn my heart away from a message of humanity’s journey from God the Father into our depravity and perversion right into the grave (Sheol). This journey doesn’t stop there; it unfolds to us in this parable of the journey from Creation, through Christ Jesus, and leaves us at the present with a question: As the older brother, what do we do with what we have been shown–that our brother “was dead and is alive again”! (v 24 & 32)

We start this story with two sons–both with the father, from the father, and like the father–all enjoying communion with the whole house, a house with many rooms (John 14:2), a place of belonging.

This is very much like life at the beginning of Creation in Genesis with God, Adam, and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Both involve communing and belonging with a purpose. Now Eve, like the younger son, gets it into her head (it doesn’t matter how) that life is not as full as it could be, that they are missing out on something, or that God may be hiding a side of the life they belong to. God’s warning in the Garden is that this path will only lead to death (Gen 2:17).

I can only imagine this warning was given to the younger son in those days when the father was compiling and dividing the inheritance. This betrayal, rejection, and curse could rightfully have been met with discipline or even death (Lev. 20:9), but the father allows the son to leave, giving him the same choice as the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil in the Garden.

The next part is filled with tragedy and ultimately death. The tragedy is leaving the Love of the father for the perversion of exploiting prostitutes and debauchery until his money runs out. This is the sweetness of the 'apple,' tasteful in Eve’s (our) mouth, but poisonous to her (our) stomach (Rev 10:9-10). Like the younger son, we chase after pleasures that only bring ruin after totally forgetting about the father and His Love. The son, like Eve, eventually dies. He dies of starvation–"he longed to fill his stomach with the pods the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything" (Luke 15:16). Did you notice that twice in the parable, the Father says the younger son had died? 

I have seen starvation in the poor–desperation and despair come like a wave, even for those who witness such suffering. No one had compassion for him, for compassion is not part of a distant country. It is only found in the father's house. Death has overtaken the younger son and humankind.

But the story still isn’t finished! Like Jonah, who prayed to God "from Sheol," the son finds that God hears, notices, and answers. A glimmer of hope falls to the son: a memory of the father and the abundance of His Love. This brings us to Jesus the Christ, his (our) living testament and reminder of the Father’s Love. There is a way back to the father and his Love, but only if we see it! The seeing is Jesus, a beacon for him (us) to follow back to God’s Love and provision, purpose, and belonging. This impetus to change, repent, and metanoia is seen by the father and God who longs for his lost son, or ALL of us (1 Cor 3:21-23).

The father goes out to the son, all the way to Sheol, as Jesus descended to the depths on Good Friday. From "a long way off," the father saw his young son and ran to him! The son had only hoped to serve and even eat even just the scraps that fall from his father's table. Still, we see the incredible insight and love the father expresses by cutting him off mid-sentence, ordering a new robe, a new family ring, and a large feast celebration at his return.

This is one of the largest insights we can gain from the father’s heart toward sin and betrayal. He forgives, he never stops loving, and he is overjoyed to be reunited! Jesus didn’t die to pay some sick form of justice on behalf of the son; it was a rescue mission into and out from the depths of Sheol. Jesus died on the Cross to reveal to us the massive, forgiving, and Loving heart of the Father. This heart has always searched for restoration and unity with his son (ALL humankind)!

This epic tale provides incredible insight into God's heart and stance toward sinners, betrayers, through arrogance and ignorance.

The input of the second (elder) son is a second lesson for us to mine the depths. The oldest son (Adam) tasted the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, but never really took accountability for his betrayal. He never ventured far from his father, but still went "slaving" in the field and joining his friends outside the house. This son (Adam) blames the younger son (Eve) for their extravagant betrayal… he (we) believes he's never betrayed the Father that much. He thinks instead about how little he has received. But he still won't accept accountability for his part for being outside the Father's house. Pride flows from the older son's heart, for his separation from the father doesn't seem as bad as his younger, insolent brother. He thinks his reward should be greater. Or that the Father should not have forgiven his younger son at all! One rejection deserves another–payment must be made, blood for blood. The younger brother deserves to be left to die so the older brother can feel better for not straying too far.

We hear this today in many mainstream churches. We're saved by not going too far and/or by grovelling enough to pay for our past sins. This older son is set in a division of his own making, “me” or “him”, “IN” or “OUT’, projecting onto his Father either “He (God) Loves Me” or “He hates me.” This misunderstanding of the Father's heart has led to many wars, for IF the Father can hate, then it is okay to hate who he hates and kill those the Father rejects. Any sign of rejection is good enough, even if it is only perceived rejection.

The beauty of this second lesson is in its open-endedness. It puts the hearer/reader/perceiver in the second son's position with the question, “Do I stay here in the field passing judgment or do I go back home and enter into the celebration of the resurrection of our brother, and also us?”

The choice is ours, today.

Please note, entering into the Father's house is not about solemn repentance with a downcast face, but a celebration for the salvation of the “other (ALL),” including oneself. To be in the Father's house is to be about the Father's business. His business is LOVE. We're urged to cast out all hate, selfishness, pride, and violence from our hearts and actions, to turn homeward (METANOIA)–from hate to Love, from selfishness to generosity, from pride to humility, from violence to forgiveness. Jesus then shines through us to those who can see. And if we have trouble seeing God, we're invited to look compassionately into the eyes of the poor, oppressed and disenfranchised.