Prodigal or Lost?

Jesus, the teller of unlikely stories.

For those of us who have been around church for any length of time, these stories become familiar, our interpretation of them standard, and we move quickly on to the next story.

Today's story is often called The Prodigal Son. My Bible labels it The Parable of the Lost Son, offering a different perspective. Is the focus on the son’s prodigal choices or on his lostness?

A man, two sons, the younger apparently deciding that he was tired of working for dad, and so he demanded the half of the inheritance he would eventually receive when dad died. In his gospel, Luke records that the father divided his property between the two sons.

Do you ever stop to wonder what sort of a dad would agree to such a request? And why Jesus in his story had the dad do so.

The money changed hands, and off went the son to “live it up”, which apparently was fine while the money lasted and ended with him eventually feeding pigs-- apparently you can't go much lower in Jewish minds. Starving, he decided that even the servants at home had it better, so he rehearsed what to say when he came face to face with his dad. All the way home he repeated his words to himself, unsure of what kind of reception he would get.

If you're familiar with this story, you know how the character of the dad merges -- out there waiting, hoping his son would return-- the compassion he felt for him and the absolute delight with which he

enfolded his son in his arms, cutting short the son’s rehearsed apology. And then his request to the servants to quickly bring the best robe, put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet, bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let's have a feast. Here is the son, restored to full status.

And then there is the big brother. He’s out in the field; he is still working when he hears the noise. When he finds out the reason is that his little brother has returned with full fanfare, he refuses to join in the party. His father comes out to plead with him. He tells his dad that he's been slaving for him, that he's never disobeyed his orders, and that there's never been even the young goat for him to celebrate with his friends. And then come his father's beautiful words:

“My son, you are always with me, and everything I have is yours.” Note the tenses. This is the ever-present God. This is the outrageously generous God about whom Jesus, Paul, and Peter are constantly telling us. I find such amazing grace in those words, and as I retold the story here, I had planned to focus on them.

Have You Ever Been Prodigal?

But God in his wisdom opened a different way for me to look at the story. Firstly, I've never seen myself in the younger son. I feel like I've always known God, and I'm the one who constantly runs to him no matter what's going on, not away. I have never been prodigal—never lost! But as I sat with God and this story, I began to see things differently.

How much courage it must have taken the son to face the reality of his audacious demands on his dad and now to repent and ask for forgiveness—not asking to be fully reinstated as a son, but to work at the lowest job.

I wonder if we miss the fact that the son was part of the family. Jesus was talking about someone who was already a son, not someone who needed to be brought into the family.

I wonder how many of us are as willing to face ourselves and accept our culpability in some of the things we have expected God to do for us because of our “goodness.”

What the son in the story did was huge, but I wonder if in smaller ways we make demands on God, as if He owes us something. How many of us have brought into the thinking that being a Christian and doing things right should keep us safe from trouble? In a recent conversation, a friend was telling me about a young friend of his who had just been diagnosed with cancer. “But he is the nicest kid; he loves God and really cares about people. How come God allowed this to happen to him? Surely God will give him a healing miracle.” Obviously this young boy didn’t deserve this illness. And we are held gasping at the unfairness of some of the things that happen to us or to those we love. Where now is God’s love? God’s protection? Can’t we expect good things from our Father?

I think of the many choices I have made, the many places where I felt God owed me good things--financial provision, health, healing, good kids, ministry, a title…My mind goes to the words I now say daily, “I let go of my desire for esteem, approval, admiration and affection.” I realize that my desire, my need to belong when so often I felt I didn’t, led me to make some decisions that led to broken relationships with friends to whom I had been close. Ouch! I had never thought of it like that. In one situation, we had been in a church where our ministry had been tolerated rather than appreciated by those in leadership. We had been asked to be a central part of a ministry in a different church, and we were invited into the circle of several leaders in that church. Heady stuff. At last, I felt accepted and appreciated. But during that time, I pulled away from a close friend whom I felt was invading my space with my new friends. It sounds awful as I say it. I never saw it as my asking of God something that wasn’t good for me. So, as I recognize this now, the question becomes: am I willing to repent, to acknowledge to God that I have sinned against Him and against my friend—that I am no longer worthy to be His daughter and to have a place at the table—a ministry with my words to give to others. Can I ask for forgiveness and accept a lower place; is it enough just to still be in God’s presence?

And, with that, am I willing to have the Father run to embrace me and welcome me home with the best robe, a ring and sandals, and a feast with the fatted calf??? My friend Richard Rohr says that grace is an offense to our western way of thinking.

I hate who I now see myself to have been.

I could gladly wallow in that for days.

But here is God, with forgiveness and reinstatement to daughterhood. Will I accept His forgiveness, forgive myself, and continue my journey to life? Can I write out of my poverty instead of my riches, LORD? Can I boast only of you and your incredible extravagant love?

Have You Ever Wondered About the Father’s Response?

And then I wonder about that dad. Clearly, Jesus was painting for us a picture of his Father. Why then would he have the father give in to his son’s totally unreasonable demand? Are there times when we want something so badly and think is a good thing for us to have; when we ask God for his blessing on something that is not ours to have, or not the right timing? And that God gives it to us?

Yes, Jesus told us to ask and keep on asking.

But then James warned us, “When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures.” James 4:3

Me, LORD? Surely not? But I wonder how many times that has been true for me, when I have thought I needed something so badly, that I was not willing to wait and trust God for his provision at the right time, in the right way.

Is that the essence of this story, Jesus? That we do demand from you things that it may not be the right time for, that we fail to trust you and your timing; that at times you give us what we ask for, and then we have to face the consequences. Think of those stories in the Old Testament of the Children of Israel in the wilderness, complaining, accusing God of his not caring about their needs. Could that be me, also?

And then, when we come to our senses and repent, God welcomes us back with celebration, and that doesn’t always feel good. Shouldn’t we have to pay in some way for what we have done? That, I am sure, is why the Catholic Church initiated penances. We do want to earn our way back into favor in some way. It is hard to accept God’s grace and allow the past to be left behind, future and hope restored ahead, as we move on, hopefully having learned a lesson. Grace upon grace upon grace.

Have You Ever Been the Older Brother?

And that brings us to the older brother. He has his part in the story also. His anger, his statement that he has slaved for his father all through the years and has received nothing in return. No one is celebrating him. And he is not going to celebrate that brother who did everything wrong and left him to do all the work.

Have you ever been there? Have you been the good kid who did everything right and yet did not get the reward you longed for? Have you ever felt you deserved better than it seems God has provided for you? Do you look with envy on others who have what you would like? Can you celebrate with others the blessings they receive? Can you allow God to be so generous and so forgiving?

Look again at the picture of this father. He left the party (does that remind you of the shepherd and his lost sheep?), and, Jesus tells us, pleaded with his son. He listened as his son poured out all his resentment which began with some attitudes he apparently had been building against his dad over time. “I’ve been slaving for you,” he says. “I’ve never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends.” His language suggests he got no pleasure at working with his dad, that he saw the work as being about his father’s needs, not his. Is this about the father’s character? Or is it about the son’s perception of his dad?

I know that for some people, God is like a distant father, waiting for them to mess up. Often we put our earthly father’s face on God. How our father treated us becomes how we expect that God will. And, even though we say we believe the Bible, our interpretation of Scripture can be colored by our early conditioning. How do you see God? At some level, are you working to earn his approval? I am reminded of people I have known who in their retirement years say they have “paid their dues”, done their church work, and now it is time for pleasure. Is how you minister at church enjoyable because you do it out of love for God and his people, or is it a chore that you are glad to finish each Sunday to get on with your life?

Jesus tells us the father’s response to his son’s accusations was a genuine statement of fact. “My son,” he said, “you are always with me, and everything I have is yours.” Here is ownership of the relationship—My son—and present tense acknowledgement of sharing everything. This is not a future, “all will be yours when I die”, but present reality.

What is God’s Invitation to You?

So, for us: Are we willing to see God as the loving Father, in his generosity and kindness and compassion? Are we willing to accept, as Peter tells in his letter, that “His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness.”   Can we embrace the picture of Father that Jesus came to show us as he lived his earthly life? Jesus acknowledged that we would have trouble in this world but assured us of his presence with us always. (John 16:33) He promised peace, that we did not need to be troubled and afraid (John 14:27). He promised that as we gave, we would receive back “a good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over.” (Luke 6:38), Above all, he promised us the Spirit to be with us and in us.

As you sit with this story today, allow the Spirit to gently open your heart to His presence and love. Be renewed. If you find things being stirred that seem overwhelming, find a safe friend to share with to help you process your memories. It helps to get perspective from another. And to get things into the open rather than allowing them to fester inside in shame. Our practical brother James admonishes us to “confess your sins to each other and pray for each other that you may be healed” (James 5:18)

If you need a safe place to share, consider finding a spiritual director who will sit with you and provide that sacred space for you to process your concerns. God’s abundant life is waiting for you.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11: 28-30)