July 6, 2007

THERE WAS A MAN WHO HAD TWO SONS

Luke 15:11-32

There are two parables of Jesus which outrank all the others in terms of public recognition and general fame. The first is the parable of the Good Samaritan that we looked at a few weeks ago. Today we are looking at the second, the parable of the Prodigal Son. Both of these parables are recognized and familiar, even to people who make no claim to Christian faith and to people who have never actually opened a Bible.

So the story is very familiar, and yet it a story that never fails to grip our hearts anew. As I studied the parable this week, it struck me that it has been misnamed. “The Parable of the Prodigal Son” would indicate that the younger son is the main character. I think that leads us to a wrong focus. The heading in my Bible says “The Parable of the Lost Son”. That is a little better, but the focus is still on the son. Some commentaries I read talked about “The Parable of Two Lost Sons”. This gives us some added insight, but still misses the point. Ultimately, I do not believe this parable is about the sons. Jesus told this parable to give us insight into the heart of God himself. “There was a man who had two sons…” The parable is about this man. He is the central character and the character of this man reveals to us the heart of God. So let us see what this story teaches us about God’s heart.

The story begins in a shocking way. The younger son asks for his share of the inheritance. It is probably impossible for us to fully understand how absolutely shocking this was in Jesus’ culture, where respect for family, love for one’s father, and preservation of family property in an agrarian society were all highly valued. It is as though he came to his father and said, “Father, I am tired of you and of our family and our home. I want to get out of here. I don’t want to wait for you to die to get my share of the inheritance. I want you to give me my share of the farm and property now.” This is shocking and offensive in the extreme. Kenneth Bailey, in researching this parable among similar cultures, repeatedly asked if they had ever heard of such a thing. The unanimous answer was, “Never!” When he asked what would happen if a son did make such a request, the usual answer was that the father would beat the son!

The second shock of the story, then, is that the father granted his request and divided the property between his sons. The younger son wasted no time. In short order, he had converted his share of the property into cash or some other forms of portable wealth, gathered it all together and left home for a far country. There he squandered it all in extravagant living. Family wealth accrued over generations of careful management was soon scattered on the four winds to satisfy his whims. He has gone beyond all the limits and broken every taboo and dishonored just about every treasured value and tradition. Culturally speaking he is beyond redemption. He is lost, as good as dead.

Soon the error of his ways catches up with him. When the money is all spent, a time of famine comes. He has nothing left. He has nothing to eat. His fair weather friends who helped him spend his money are nowhere in sight. The NIV says he “hired himself out”. Literally it says, “he joined himself to a citizen of the country.” I am not sure he was even hired. I think he just attached himself and made nuisance of himself. All his dignity is gone. It’s the next thing to begging. We can picture the sign: “Will Work for Food”. Possibly in an effort to get rid of him, the man sends him out to feed his pigs. Remember, this young man was a Jew. Pigs were unclean animals. Not only is he feeding the pigs, but he soon finds himself envying the pigs their food. It’s as though he is almost ready to get into the trough with them and compete for their fodder. He has hit rock bottom. It would be impossible for him to fall any farther.

In his desperation his thoughts turn back to home. “Even my father’s hired servants have plenty to eat,” he says to himself, “while I am here starving.” So he determines his course of action. He will go home, humbly, repentantly. He will ask, not to be accepted back as a son, but simply to be hired as a servant. We can imagine him rehearsing his speech to himself over and over again as he makes the long and weary trek back home.

“There was a man who had two sons.” This is the story of the younger son. What will the man do?  Remember, the story is about him, the father. How will he respond to this son? The first thing we are told is that “while he was still a long way off, his father saw him.” I would suggest that you don’t see something “a long way off” unless you are looking for it. How many times had this father gone out to the road, to look in the direction his son had gone? Or maybe he had even gone up on the roof of his house, shading his eyes to gaze into the distance in the strong hope that his lost son might one day return. And finally the day came. A figure came over the horizon. No doubt he was dirty, disheveled, emaciated, hardly enough clothing to keep him decent. What a contrast to the arrogant young man who had ridden away in all his finery. But still the father recognized him, the form, the familiar walk.

Now comes the most incredible part of the story. “He was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.” Once again, this story is culturally shocking. This man is an older man in a culture in which men did not run. It is a culture of dignity and decorum, a culture of long robes and respect for protocol. In fact, to run at all necessitated hiking one’s robe up above one’s knees, and exposing one’s legs. All this is cast aside as this father, robe hiked up, bared knees flashing, dignity forgotten, ran past all his neighbors and friends and out and down the road to meet his son. And there he embraced him and repeatedly kissed him in welcome.

The son begins his prepared speech, a speech of broken hearted repentance: “Father I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” But the father breaks in. He calls for the best robe to be brought. He calls for a ring and for sandals, and he gives instructions for the fatted calf to be killed. He orders a feast and a party to begin right on the spot. “This son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.” It’s party time!

As I said in my introduction, the father is the main character in the parable, and he reveals to us the heart of God. This is God’s heart we are seeing exposed. This is how God responds every time a sinner repents and comes back to him. It doesn’t matter how far we’ve fallen, or how far we’ve run. God is waiting. He is looking down the road. He longs and aches for the wandering one to return. And whenever a sinner repents his response is always the same. He runs to welcome us. He calls for the party to begin. On this point, this parable is an exact parallel to the two parables which have come before it: the parable of the lost sheep and the parable of the lost coin. In each of these parables there is something lost: a sheep, a coin. In each there is someone searching: the shepherd, the woman. And in each there is a celebration when what has been lost is found.

The application in each of the parables is also the same. At the conclusion of the parable of the lost sheep in verse 7 we read: I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent. And in the conclusion of the parable of the lost coin in verse 10 we read: In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents. And now in the conclusion of the story of the father and the lost son, we find these concluding words in verse 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. That phrasing is fascinating: “We had to celebrate…” The original contains a word of necessity and requirement. There is no choice. The very character of God himself demands it. When a sinner repents, God and all of heaven celebrate. This is God’s grace. This is the heart of God revealed in these parables.

But the parable of the father began with the words, “There was a man who had two sons.” What happened to the other son? And what does this part of the story tell us about the character of the father? We are told that when the younger brother arrived home, the elder brother was not there. He was out working in the field. As he returned and came near the house, he heard the sound of music and dancing of the party already in progress. He called one of the young men and asked what was going on. When he found out that his wayward brother had returned and his father was throwing a party for him, he became furious and refused to go in and join the celebration. When his father went out to talk to him, all of his pent up bitterness came pouring out. 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…From his angry words we recognize that while this son never left home, his heart is as far from his father as his younger brother ever was in the far country. He regarded his years with his father not as a service of love but as the service of a slave. They were nothing more than long years of servitude and dull drudgery for an ungrateful slave-master. You see, this older son was as lost to the father as the younger son. This brother had done the correct thing outwardly, but his heart was hard and cold toward his father. He made a show of honoring his father, but he didn’t love him. As the prophet Isaiah said, “These people honor me with their lips but their hearts are far from me.”

To understand the full impact of the parable we need to set it in its original context. We find this in Luke 15:1-2: Now the tax collectors and “sinners” were all gathering around to hear him. But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” The tax collectors and sinners are represented in the parable by the younger son. There is no effort to sugar coat their descent into the pig sties of the world. Their acts are shameful and their downfall is both predictable and tragic. The point of the parable is not to tell us that these people are OK in God’s eyes. The point of the parable is tell us that God loves them deeply and that he rejoices every time one of them repents and comes back to him. That is why Jesus spent time with them. He came “to seek and to save those who were lost.”

The Pharisees and teachers of the law are represented in the parable by the older brother. Their scowling disapproval of Jesus’ eating with the sinners is portrayed clearly in the parable by the angry older brother standing outside the house while the party went on inside without him. Now we could spend a lot more time analyzing this older brother and his wrong attitudes. But what strikes me most forcibly in the story in front of us is the attitude of the father. He is holding a feast. All his friends and neighbors have come to join in. His own son is defying him and refusing to come in. It is a great insult. So what does he do? He takes the initiative. He leaves the party. He goes outside to his older son and he pleads with him to come in. What grace! What love toward this hard-hearted son! I can’t get over this aspect of the story. Just as the father ran down the road to welcome his rebellious younger son home, so he now goes out to reason and plead with his elder son to come in and complete the family circle. During his earthly ministry Jesus had conflict after conflict with the Pharisees. They were the ones who ultimately schemed to have him killed. Yet in this parable, the father is pictured as standing outside, pleading with them to join the party.

There was a man who had two sons. I want to leave you with two pictures, two images from this parable. The first is the picture of the father, with his robe hiked up above his knees, running down the road to welcome his son home. What a glorious picture of our heavenly Father in all of his grace and mercy, eager to welcome the sinner home. If you’ve thumbed your nose at God and all he stands for and you are still living in the far country, feeding on the empty husks of pig food that the world has to offer, won’t you “come to your senses” and come home? Your father is waiting.

The second is the picture of the father standing outside with his hand on the shoulder of his older son, earnestly pleading with him to come in and join the party. Maybe you are one who has chosen the respectable, maybe even the religious path of conformity. But in spite of outward respectability, your heart is cold, proud and self-righteous. God loves you too. He’s inviting you to come in. Jesus didn’t finish the story of the older brother. We don’t know if he stalked off in anger, or whether he listened to his father’s appeal, softened his heart and walked with him into the house to join the party. We don’t know. But the more important question, if you’re an “elder brother,” is how will your story end?