Last Wednesday we began looking at Jesus' parable commonly known as The Prodigal Son, in Luke 15:11-24. A story Jesus told in response to those hypocrites gathered nearby as they attempted to besmirch His character. Jesus tells of a self-centered young man who caused his father great hurt in demanding his inheritance and fleeing the family farm. Let me reiterate, this was just a story meant to teach. We don't want to get too wrapped up in details and background lest we miss the lessons, but this story is so rich with relevance and emotion; I don't think there's a person alive who can't relate to some aspect of this.
So, let's look at the father. We don't know how old his sons were or whether they had even expressed an interest in following in his footsteps, but such was the culture. The oldest took over the family business, and the others worked for him. In the Western world, parents love to encourage their children to be whatever they want to be. We love to give them wings with our affirmations and encouragement. But in Jewish culture, roots were even more important. They were different, consecrated; and as such, it was important they clung to one another for support and accountability. The father had plans for his sons --not because he was controlling or self-absorbed, but because land and service to God were important features of their lives. And because he had something wonderful in store for them. To hear his son demand "the share of the property that falls to [him]" (v.12) --how it must have cut him to the very quick. But Son, I have so much more I want to do to prepare you. I have so much more planned for you, to build you a legacy that will last for generations and will bless many. I want to give you something personal, something I have designed and cultivated just for you. But it is not yet the time. Not to mention, the dividends alone on the share you are demanding will last a lifetime. And I see you are not ready.
But the son was lonely. Or empty. Or impulsive. Or full of pride. He was uninterested in remaining as he was. He was uninterested in being subservient, on relying on his father to mete out what he saw fit and when. So, he got his share and, eventually, left home. As he lived his prodigal life (Which is how he got his name --not because he rebelled; prodigal means wasteful.) he lived it in "a far country." He and his father were now separated not just by ideology but by distance. The young son's desires had led him to an alien land. Instead of being the heir, he was now the outsider. Instead of being protected, he would be as good as the last party he threw. Instead of being with those like-minded, he would have to be the standout or conform to the others' ways. And I see you are not ready.
The young man squandered. The young man conformed. And then came the famine (v. 14). This is not some sort of cosmic balance; this is not karma. This is what happens when we follow after our own desires, when we adhere to our own ways, and we wind up outside the boundaries God has established for His children. We are far from home and outside the realm of His protection --not because He is unable or unwilling, but because this is what we have chosen. God, in His loving discipline, sometimes gives us experiential knowledge of what we need most. The young man wanted blessing on his terms. Though the father had so much more planned, what could he do but allow the young man to find out for himself? What could the father do but keep watch and remain ready to give his returning son the bread that would truly fill him? What could the father do but celebrate his son's return?
Come back for more on The Prodigal Son next week!
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