0228 THE PRODIGAL BROTHER

THE PRODIGAL BROTHER

Perhaps you already know the story of the prodigal son. A man had two sons. It was normal for the oldest son to receive all of the inheritance from his father, and of course that would happen after the father had passed away. But this son, the younger son, demanded of his father that he receive his share of the inheritance immediately. We assume that he is young–perhaps in his early twenties, with plenty of time to discover the world and learn about himself. We can also assume that his father would have had to sell much of his property in order to give the young man what he called his share of the inheritance. It is the ultimate adolescent rebellion, right from the start. But, inexplicably, the boy’s father yields and gives him the money, knowing full well that he is likely to waste it on wild living, since he had not learned any discipline or respect so far.

And, sure enough, the son goes off to a far country, no doubt slamming a door and saying something about dad never seeing him again. His plan was to make a name for himself, break all the rules, and prove them all wrong about him. 

But Solomon had written in Proverbs the truism that an inheritance quickly gained in the beginning will not be blessed in the end. It is one of what we might consider to be certain unbreakable rules in life. Among them are rules about wild living and spending money and receiving an inheritance quickly before learning the value of money. Another of the unbreakable rules has to do with fools suffering for their foolishness. And so, the father, being wiser than his son, does not chase him down. Instead he stays home and daily scans the horizon, ready to run and greet his returning son.

In addition, the boy’s heavenly father is watching out for him. He causes him to lose his job. He makes sure there is a famine in the land. And he makes sure that no one helps the young man. The son has truly burned all of his bridges at this point. At last he gets a job doing the lowest of the lowest of jobs for a Jewish man: feeding pigs. And at last he comes to his senses and sees that the non-kosher pigs he feeds every day are living better than he is. He decides to humble himself at last and return to his father, pleading for mercy and willing to have a menial job for his dad, whom he hopes will at least let him live as if he were a servant in the house. At last, he is ready for a redeaux. He turns and heads toward home.

His father sees him from a distance. That’s because he has been scanning the horizon every day for all these months. And his father then runs to meet his son. That’s because he doesn’t want to wait another second, forcing his son to have to walk all the way home to make things right. He gives instructions about a fattened calf and a robe—both of which he has been preparing just for this moment, in case it should happen. He was ready to forgive and welcome his son home, especially now that his son is contrite and has gleaned wisdom from his experience. Notice the son has not returned with any money. That is all gone. But the father is not even asking about that. He knew it would happen.

That’s when we get to the second half of the story, to the true center of what Jesus is saying.

“The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’

31 “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”

In this story, it is people like the Pharisees who are the older brother. They are the old school Jewish goody-goodies, who will not tolerate a fool. He may have returned home, but he owes something before he can be restored. The prodigal son has a huge debt to God that needs to be paid, in their minds. But more centrally, as you notice in the older brother’s complaint, they feel like a returning prodigal somehow owes THEM a debt. After all, they are the ones who have been toeing the line, holding the fort, keeping the covenant, being, well, good. And it is no fun being good all the time, trying to stave off the wrath of God in spite of the heartless rebellion of these, these heartless rebels. Yeah.

It could be that Jesus is telling our story here. Maybe I am the older brother, at least a bit. I am bitter that all these resources and work have been wasted on a rebel who has been ungrateful and hurtful as they left. And maybe I am angry that I have had to be, well, good, dutifully following the rules myself while others get to have fun without consequences. Maybe God should at least let me deliver some kind of an “I told you so” lecture before I welcome him back fully.

I’m saying that we all have some prodigal brother in us, if we don’t stop to recognize it and repent. 

So, Lord Jesus, I repent of thinking I have been missing out because I have tried to do good. I confess that I am not, in fact, anywhere close to being good, once the depths of my heart and inner motives are made known.

And now, let’s go to the party that’s already underway in the heavenlies! A lost one has come home! Celebrate!