“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was
filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him,
and kissed him.”
–Luke 15:20b NIV
We all know the story of the “Prodigal Son” from Luke
15:11-32, don’t we? This summer,
however, I had the opportunity to hear the story told from another point of
view – from the view of the prodigal son’s father. In a time where there are countless “prodigal
sons” and where the idea of a “father” is often viewed negatively due to the
large number and the normality of dysfunctional families, most people tend to
read this parable and relate to the prodigal son instead of looking
deeper. But what if the focus of the
story wasn’t as much about the failure and redemption of the son, but of the
great and unfathomable love of his father?
The story starts with the younger of two sons going to his
father and asking for his inheritance.
Those of you who know much about inheritances and the like know that
this kid was essentially saying, “Dad, I wish that you were dead or would at
least act like it. I don’t care about
you in the slightest and I really don’t want to be here, so just give me my
stuff.” Even if his father was a jerk
(if you’d never read this story before, you wouldn’t know anything about the
character of his father at this point of the story), it’s pretty obvious that
this young man was not being very respectful at all. Anyway, the father, being the type of man
that he is, gave both his sons their allotted inheritance and the oldest stayed
with him while the youngest took everything he owned, went to a far away
country, and pretty much partied all of his possessions away. He learned the hard way that all too often,
friends are only around for as long as you have something to offer them. All his “friends” deserted him when he could
no longer give them anything they wanted.
He had used up all his money and had nothing left to use to pay for
things other than to hire himself out for work in the countryside where he ended up feeding pigs, wishing that
he could eat even the slop they were given.
Not only did he not have enough to eat due to a famine, but his job of
feeding pigs was just about the lowliest position that a Jew could take.
During all of this, chances are that
his father heard stories from others (merchants, traders, people who had
visited these distant lands and heard the stories through the grapevine) about
his son. When he found out about what all
his son was doing, he could’ve forced him to come home. Instead, he allowed him the dignity of
choosing for himself when he would return, even after he had lost all other
dignity. He didn’t track his son down
when he came to the end of himself and rub his situation in his face by saying,
“Told you so!” Knowing his son and what
was best for him, he let him finish his rebellion.
When the father saw his son finally coming
home, he was filled with compassion for him – compassion, not pity. Pity is a bit condescending, giving an attitude
of, “I’m right, you’re wrong. I’m big,
you’re small.” Compassion, on the other
hand, is loving, showing genuine sympathy even relating to the pain or sorrow
felt. The difference is all in how the
action is played out. The father was
loving in his sympathy, not condescending.
The very next thing he did was to run to meet his son, throw his arms
around him, and kiss him. Now, it may
seem like a semi-normal greeting for that time, but in that community and in
that situation, the things he did had a meaning. For all of the things he’d done, the son
could’ve been cast out of the community, and they would even have been within
their rights to stone him. The father,
however, didn’t want that to happen to his son, so he raced to be the first to
get to his son. In his hurry, he was
even willing to suffer public embarrassment and loss of dignity by lifting his
robe to his knees so that he could get there faster. When weighing his own dignity next to his
sons, he chose to take the “walk of shame” in his son’s place. When the father threw his arms around his son
and kissed him, he was as much greeting his son as he was protecting him from
the townspeople and claiming him as his son, despite the things he’d done.
Now if you’ve read the story, you
know that the son wasn’t intending to return to take his place again as this
man’s son, but instead to become one of his servants. He had finally recognized that the things he
had done were wrong, and he came back with an attitude of humility and
repentance. But the father, without a
doubt in his mind and without even letting his son finish the speech he’d
prepared, sent his servants back to the house to get the best robe to put on
him, a ring for his finger, and sandals for his feet. They were also supposed to kill the fattened
calf for a party in honor of the son’s return home. Oh, and he told them to do all of this,
“Quickly!” He wanted to publicly reclaim
the son as his own before the townspeople could do anything to him. Again, the things he sent for had
meaning. The robe symbolized reinstated
sonship, the ring symbolized reinstated authority, the sandals distinguished
him as a master and not a servant, and the fattened calf was saved for use at
the best party.
Does any of this sound familiar to
you? Jesus took the “walk of shame” in
our place, sacrificing his dignity for our salvation (Isaiah 53:5). God puts a robe of righteousness around us
(Isaiah 61:10) and calls us his children (1 John 3:1). The angels throw a party when even just one
sinner repents and turns back to The Father (Luke 15:10). Hmmm . . . so maybe this isn’t just a story
about a prodigal son (us) who makes the journey home again, but about a loving
father (God) who allows his rebellious son to make a mess of his life because
he knows that in the end, his son will return to him all the better for it.
But wait! We’re forgetting one crucial character in
this story – the older brother. He was
out in the field while his dad and younger brother had their joyful reunion,
but when he found out about his brother’s return and the feast thrown in his
honor, he wasn’t glad that he was back; instead he got quite angry. Not the reaction you would think of for
someone who thought his brother was dead and just found out he was alive. He had been obedient and stayed with his
father, doing everything he was asked, but he felt like he was never rewarded,
and then his rebellious brother returns home and is thrown the ultimate party;
how was that even fair? I know I can
relate to that feeling. If you think
about it, there are two types of prodigals: rebellious prodigals, and
performance prodigals. There wasn’t just
one prodigal in the story; there were two.
But the father’s response is beautiful: “My son, you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, for this
son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.” (Luke
15:32) For those of us who relate
more to the perfectionist prodigals, God reminds us that we share in His wealth
and have already received everything.
For those of us who are the rebellious prodigals, or new Christians, how
amazing is it to know that God says this over us! “This child of mine was dead but is now
alive, and they were lost but now they are found!”
Comma
Queen
Sources:
The
majority of this article is based off of notes I took at a lecture at TeenPact
National Convention 2013 by Bob Chambers entitled “The Parable of the Loving
Father.”
