The Prodigal Son story keeps circling back into my world.
Two of my blog posts last week were in conversation with things I had read or heard that used the story as a definitive picture of God.
And, I got roped into teaching the kids during the sermon at church last night, and the Prodigal Son was the topic for our lesson.
Here’s my hang-up with most tellings of the story (though not with those I’ve heard in the last week): in Luke 15 the set-up is grumpy Pharisees who are not happy–At. All.–with Jesus’ welcoming sinners and eating with them. So any interpretation of the parable that doesn’t leave the “insiders” wrestling with their posture toward others, the “wrong people” who have been embraced (any interpretation that does not end with the spotlight squarely on the Pharisees who are questioning Jesus’ choice of party people) won’t do it for me.
Jesus is partying with the wrong people.
This, of course, is just how the story of the Prodigal Son doesn’t end. While the stories of the lost coin and of the lost sheep each end with the party, the Prodigal story ends differently.
It ends with dad outside the party, attempting to cajole older brother to join in the celebration. The story ends not with the accepting father nor with the accepted son, but with the faithful, loyal, grumpy older brother who will not join the party for this fraud who has just come home.
Both brothers, in fact, come to the father with the same, wrong narrative about their life in relation to him. And the father attempts to rewrite their stories.
They tell, or offer, stories of servitude, but the father narrates their lives as those of beloved children.
“Father, I have sinned against heaven and earth and am no longer worthy to be called your son. Take me back as one of your servants.”
But no, the father doesn’t even let him get to the “let me be your servant” part. Family ring. Fine robe. New shoes. And this “son of mine” is back!
There is rejoicing in heaven over one lost sinner who repents. And a feast on earth, apparently.
But as beautiful as that story is, most of the people I hang out with need the second one a bit more.
It’s the “faithfully slaving away” story. The story of the faithful ones who just do everything we’re supposed to. And always have. And always will.
And in the doing have forgotten who we are.
“Look, I’ve served you all these years, and I never disobeyed your instruction” (Luke 15:29, CEB). Behold the good and faithful slave! Laboring away under the yoke of his master!
No, says the father, not slave.
“Son.”
This is family. This is not servitude.
“Son, you are always with me.”
So why are you apart from me now at this moment of celebration? You are always with me.
“Everything I have is yours.”
Including this family of mine–with its lost son back from the dead.
And there we’re left. Outside the party. With the Pharisees who will not join the heavenly party of the faithless who have repented.
For all the shame and embarrassment and guilt that the younger brother felt, he was willing to have his story retold as a story of life out of death, of sonship rather than slavery.
How much harder to have our narrative transformed when we’ve done everything right. How much harder to have our story retold when our go-to narrative is one in which we’ve earned the party by working our fingers to the bone.
How much harder, also, to celebrate the miscreant.
This favorite story has been repeated to me many times, most with the ending you portray of the Pharisees pondering their fate. I appreciated Tim Keller’s rendition, calling this the “Prodigal God” and placing the spotlight on the Father. As I have been reading Luke lately I saw something else in this story. 15:29 starts with the Greek imperative ‘idou’ which is “Behold!” or “Look!”. My NRSV translates it as “Listen!”; and that is what caught my attention.
Several places in Luke (8:8; 10:16; 14:35; and many others) Jesus is shown telling those around him to listen carefully to his words. In Luke, the transfiguration happens in chapter 9 and the voice of the Father tells Peter, James and John; “This is my son, the one (I) have chosen; listen to him!” All throughout this Gospel we are implored to listen to the words of Jesus and the Father.
And here we have in verse 15:29 the elder son taking the place of the father and declaring to him; “Father, now you listen to me!” The elder son has usurped the father’s position. The elder son is now out front leading. To Daniel’s point in this blog, the elder son has lost his identity. Is this a throwback to Adam? I don’t know. What I do like in this story, however, even though we are left wondering if the elder son ever “came to himself” like his younger brother did, we see a gentle, benevolent father calmly loving him and coaxing him back in. Lord help me go back in. Amen.
This past weekend, I preached on the parable of the workers in the vineyard (Matt 20:1-16). Unlike many of Jesus’ other parables, which seem less striking because of our historical and cultural distance, this one resonates: I get it. I know what it would feel like to be the person hired at 6 AM who feels ripped off because the person hired at 5 PM received the same pay.
Later, the parallel to the story of the prodigal son occurred to me: the workers hired first, and the grumpy older brother; the workers hired last, and the prodigal brother. The workers hired first, by extension, also seem in Matthew’s narrative to represent the religious philosophy of the rich young ruler (Matt 19:16-22) and of the astonished disciples (vss. 23-30), which prompts the parable in the first place.
What amazes me is the graciousness of the God figure in both stories, not only to the ones who clearly received something they didn’t deserve, but also to those who thought themselves more deserving.
I haven’t always kept in mind what it might mean for Jesus to indirectly call a grumpy Pharisee “son,” or for that matter, in Matt 20, “friend.” My knee jerk reading is of the Pharisees as the bad guys, excluded from the kingdom. But God, it seems, is more patient than I am.
Cameron, as I was reading your comment I was thinking, “He calls the first hired, ‘Friend!’” And then you ended up there as well. Yes and yes: God continues to embrace. And God is more patient than I am.
Nice dovetailing of the stories, here. Thanks.
Having a job in the vineyard is infinitely to be preferred to standing on the corner all day trying to look energetic for passing pickup trucks. The father didn’t tell the prodigal, “all that I have is yours”. The one who does the work is the heir, and if he won’t share out of his plenty he’s being a brat and not ready to step up to the big job.
Your reading and emphasis are almost exactly the ones that Don Juel (pbuh) always put forward. Carry on.
Hadn’t thought about the father ending up outside. He won’t go in to the party until the whole family can gather there?
How could you possibly place the emphasis on the son here? The emphasis is clearly on the Father and His grace. This can be seen by looking at the parables accompanying this — the coins and the sheep. You can’t focus on the coins on the sheep — you have to focus on the woman and the shepherd. So don’t focus on the son, either.
The point of the parable is that it’s better to sin and then repent than not to sin at all. Well, not that it’s better to sin. But because GOD is the focus of the parable (and not the sinner), the answer Jesus gives the Pharisees makes sense: Why am I celebrating? Because it is by welcoming back sinners that God’s grace is revealed, and that is how God is seen as glorious (“to the praise of the glory of His grace” is our purpose).
It’s not about inclusion. It’s not about OUR story, and it’s not about those of us who have “done everything right” (we haven’t — if we had, then there wouldn’t be anything wrong with us). It’s about God rejoicing over repentant sinners, rather than the idea that God would prefer to rejoice over truly righteous people (as the brother was truly righteous). Conceptually, saved sinners bring God more glory in a way righteous men could not.
Thanks agin for willingly being roped into teaching the kids.
I’m so grateful! I really enjoyed hearing you teach the different perspectives on the story–beautiful.