Midweek: The Prodigal Son (Part Four)

This is it! (I think) The last installment on The Prodigal Son. I'd like to call this The Long Road Home. Now, that may seem a bit strange; Jesus' story goes from starvation to realization very quickly. In fact, we left the younger son, The Prodigal as he is typically known, famished and eyeing up the dry empty husks he was feeding swine. In the very next verse of Jesus' story (v.17) the young man realizes the bitter irony of his situation: How many of my father’s hired servants have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! But verses don't always give a clear indication of time, and this being just a story to teach, that's hardly a point over which we should argue. However, I do know my own sin, and I do know what a stronghold pride can be. In this young man's life, it was definitely a stronghold --so much so he demanded from his father what was meant to be a benevolent gift; so much so he compromised his adherence to Jewish law and fed pigs; so much so he attached himself to a stranger who was unwilling, even, to feed him. But one day, he came to himself. Now, other Bible translations use phrases like "came to his senses," but coming to the end of oneself seems to have a little less to do with waking up from a knock on the head and more to do with finding oneself at a precipice, driven there by self-aggrandizing thoughts; one is left with no choice but to jump into the unknown or be consumed. Coming to the end of oneself seems to be a crossroads of radical truth and self-destruction. We begin to understand that in the grand scheme of things, I am nothing, despite the delusions upon which I have built my life. It's not overwrought self-deprecation, mind you, but an honest look at how one compares to the God of the universe. I am nothing. Unworthy in and of myself. Incapable in and of myself. Of little consequence, in and of myself. With time --how much time we can only imagine --this young rebel came to the end of himself. Praise God!  

And the father rejoiced. Verse 20 tells us, when he --the son --was still a great way off, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him. Bear in mind this son had gone to a far-off country, had spent his time living prodigally until his resources were expended, had witnessed the onset of a famine, endured it to whatever extent, and had spent some time thinking critically about himself. Nevertheless, his father saw him coming from a long way off. Reason being, and I think this is a crucial part of Jesus' message to us, the father never stopped watching expectantly for him. This my son was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found (v. 24). Oh, what rejoicing! What celebration! Can you imagine God, the Father, rejoicing at your return?

One of my favorite verses, Zephaniah 3:17 says:

The Lord your God is with you,
    the Mighty Warrior who saves.
He will take great delight in you;
    in his love he will no longer rebuke you,
    but will rejoice over you with singing.

Imagine the depths of God's love! That he would sing over His people; forgiving offenses, welcoming rebels, saving the condemned, and singing over those who were once enemies, those who have been restored to relationship by the blood of His Son! The father in Jesus' parable --a mere glimpse, a human representation of our Heavenly Father --orders to be brought the best robe, a ring, new shoes, and the calf his servants had been fattening for this very occasion, the return of his child. He is filled with joy. He wastes not one second in calling for a celebration. And they began to make merry. 

That is, all but one.

Well, it looks like this parable has a few more lessons for us. See you right back here next Wednesday for the next installment. In the meantime, enjoy more posts every Monday and Thursday.