Tell Me That Old, Old Story--Luke 15 Retold

* The following is a retelling of the parable of the prodigal son, informed by research and insights of scholars. 

There was a man who had two sons. And the younger of them said to his father, "Father, go to hell. Just give me the goods--the blessings and the property. In fact, I wish you were dead. Just let me have MY stuff, MY share and let me use it how I want to." 

And isn't that what I have done? While a sinner, rebelling against God, wanting his gifts but not himself? Using him? Fashioning him after my own image? 

And the father divided his property between them, to both his sons. "I love them so much; I will grant their desire. Maybe then they will see how much I love them when I humble myself and grant their desires." 

"And [Israel] did not know that it was I who gave her the grain, the wine, and the oil, and who lavished on her silver and gold, which they used for Baal" (Hosea 2:8).


“It is difficult to imagine a more dramatic illustration of the quality of love, which grants freedom even to reject the lover, than that given in this opening scene” (1).

Not many days later, the younger son gathered all he had--all his father's property, all that the father was banking on for his old age--and took a journey into a far country, out of the promised land and far from his family, and there he squandered his property in reckless living. 

"....so that we also may be like the other nations..." (1 Sam. 8:20). 

And when he had spent everything, a severe famine arose in that country--insurance companies called it an "act of God" disaster. And hunger pains began to rack the younger son. So, he hired himself out. Job wanted!!!! 

A gruff man came up, jeering. "Hey, Jew. You wanna job? I gotta job f'o' ya. Wanna feed my pigs! Ha!." 

"'Kay. You've got yourself a pig feeder. " 

The man's jaw dropped. A Jew? Feed pigs?  

Indeed, he could barely make himself approach the pig sty that first day. What a disgusting, unclean work!!!! Unclean, unclean shouts his sensitivities. But he's abandoned the rest of the rules, so why not this as well? Sure... for food. He's hungry. He'll take care of himself. Just a good thing his brother can't see him... He'd never live this one down if he knew. 

"For [Israel] has played the whore.... For she said, 'I will go after my lovers....' Therefore I will hedge up her way with thorns, and I will build a wall against her, so that she cannot find her paths.... Therefore I will take back my grain in its time, and my wine.... Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her" (Hosea 2).

 But when his hunger pains were so bad, and he was miserable, he hatched a plan. "I'm hungry--so I will go and tell--command, rather--my father to make me a servant. That way, I'll have some food in my stomach. I'm not worthless yet, I can work for him and pay him back." So he arose and went to his father. 

"Jesus answered, 'Truly, truly, I say to you, you are seeking me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves" (John 6:26).

He dreaded the trip home. It'd be humiliating. He had to pass through the village. They would all know what he had done. They'd be eager to heap shame on him, rejoice in his failure. Sigh. He'd have to run the gauntlet. 

But. 

But his father, while he was still far off, his father saw him and felt compassion. He hiked up his robe and ran through the village to the son. The villagers turned their heads and dropped their hoes and wash buckets and dropped the bread dough into the fire... The wealthy man??? Running? Where? Gossip spread and a crowd gathered. The father ran the gauntlet, taking the humiliation of the village, running to his son. 

The son was shocked into still motion, and the father came and embraced him, kissed him. "Look!" the villagers whispered all too loudly. "He's kissing him--he's reconciled! He's accepting him again as a son! What??? After all he did? After he wished his father dead? And this man's kissing him???" 

The younger son.... Heart heaved. His father took his humiliation. His father protected him. His father showed the village he was accepted again. His father accepted him.... His father loved him. Loved. Him. He choked out, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am... I'm no longer worthy to be called your son...." But he couldn't finish his words. His father was offering him sonship again--he knew being a son would involve its costs. Under his father's authority again. In his brother's house, living off of what was now his brother's property. Surrender of his own plans to work to make up to his father. Surrender of his pride. But his father's love... He was moved by grace, moved by love. All of a sudden, that love was all he wanted. He abandoned his plans to work, to earn, his pride... and accepted grace. 


“Repentance finally turns out to be the capacity to forego pride and accept graciousness” (2). 

No longer could he work for his father as a servant, but he desired the relationship, the love. There was nothing he could do to repair the relationship. He could not take back his words. But his father breached the gap. His father extended sonship to him. Full heirdom--the robe, the ring, the shoes. But above all, the love.

NOTES 
(1) Kenneth Bailey, Poet and Peasant (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1976), 65.

(2) Dan Otto Via, The Parables: Their Literary and Existential Dimension (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1967), 171.