THE PRODIGAL SON AND HIS HOME
The parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32) is one of the classic stories of Jesus in sketching out bit by bit his message of the kingdom of heaven or, in other words, eternal life. The parable teaches us a lot about ourselves. It’s a parable that says we’ve failed; and who can say they haven’t? It says something about the freedom that God has given us - a freedom to wander away and then to return to faith. The best summary of the parable I’ve seen is very concise - sick of home, homesick, and home. Those five words seem to say it all but, as a sermon is usually longer than that I’d better carry on! Let’s think of the first phase of the story:
SICK OF HOME
One day the younger son demanded his share of the family inheritance. It seems from the story that the second son was very much a "hippie" of his day. Life at home was far too constricting and he wanted to get away - he was sick of home. I wonder why?
Was it the restraint of his kindly father who only wanted the best for his son? Was it that dull, "too true to be good" older brother of his that made him restless? At any rate, it seems he was weary of needing to observe the family’s lifestyle. He wanted to break away, to taste life to the full, to be his own man. Staying at home would cramp his style and he would lose out, missing the best the world could offer. What was there for him here when the excitement was "all out there", just for the taking? Yes, we’ve heard that before. If we haven’t done it, we’ve probably thought of it!
This young man, perhaps only in his late teens demanded his portion, "Father," he said, "give me my share of the estate" (12). He really wanted his independence. True, he had freedom at home but there were always limits, standards, and rules. He was after complete freedom, a liberty without law. He was determined to do as he pleased with no one looking over his shoulder.
This desire for complete moral freedom, for throwing off the shackles of the basic rules of life is no stranger to men and women, young and old. We see it every day. It’s a fantasy that brings nothing but trouble. It’s an arch deception. It’s as old as mankind itself. Do you know where it’s first recorded in the Bible? It’s in the opening chapters of Genesis, in the very formative days of human existence, portrayed for us in the Garden of Eden.
It seems hard to believe that the first couple of the human race should be sick of home in this earthly paradise, but truth is often stranger than fiction. God, in his wisdom, created mankind as a responsible being as the climax of his creation. Adam and Eve were placed in the Garden of plenty; God himself said, "it was very good" (1:31). At the centre was "the tree of life and the tree of knowledge of good and evil" (2:9). In doing this God gave our first parents a fundamental choice to obey or disobey.
Their freedom was limited by one prohibition. It was the command "You shall not eat" of that tree, which made Adam and Eve sick of home. It wasn’t a harsh restriction, but rather a boundary within which they were placed for their own good. True liberty is only found within bounds. If you’ve got a goldfish in a bowl and somehow it’s "liberated" from its water, it won’t survive long in its newfound freedom: so with humans. God’s divine word of restriction is in fact the only basis for real freedom. It is his law that guarantees our freedom.
Sadly, the story of mankind is that we’ve been deceived. Every since that first crisis in the Garden mankind has longed for a freedom which wasn’t a freedom because it was outside of the ring-fence of God’s protective law. The tempter suggested to Eve, "Don’t worry your head over divine commands. You don’t have to live under that kind of restriction. There’s a world out there to be experienced, delights to be tasted, and you can be on your own!" Our first parents fell for the freedom of not trusting God. Adam did what every self-respecting man has done since then - he blamed his wife! And she blamed the serpent! All in the best traditions of mankind! It became the doorway to the loss of freedom itself, and what terrible consequences. Adam and Eve could be said to be the first prodigal son and daughter.
In the story that Jesus told, the father didn’t argue with his son. He knew that if his son was ever to learn he must learn the hard way and he gave him his request. He goes to his safe and counts out the inheritance. He will not force his son to stay, or even plead with him. He knows that home is not home any longer to a boy who has become estranged from him, sick of home. Those weary of God the Father’s home are always free to go. That’s the awesome mystery of our human situation. When we insist on having everything now, breaking our ties with God and wandering off, he lets us leave.
God will even allow us to waste everything he’s given us without stepping in to prevent it. Yes, but he doesn’t do that without sadness. Think of how Jesus was touched with great emotion when he looked over the city which had rejected the prophets of Israel and finally the Son of God, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem ... how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing." (Matt
23:37). It’s never easy to see a son turning his back on his family. It always hurts when those we love feel sick of home.
The parable is known as the prodigal son, but it would be more accurate to say the prodigal sons. The elder brother was quite different, but it’s clear that he too was a prodigal. Does that surprise you? Didn’t he stay at home with his father? Yes he did, but in his own way he was sick of home in the sense that he didn’t share his father’s values. We know from the story of his brother’s eventual return that he was filled with a horrible spirit of envy and jealousy, but that was only the visible sign of a heart that was sick of home.
The elder prodigal was completely rotten inside. Self dominated him and it showed in several ways. This man was self-righteous. True he hadn’t done the terrible things his brother had been guilty of doing but he had a chip on his shoulders because he hadn’t! Notice his "holier-than-thou" attitude: he said to his father "I never disobeyed your command". May be, never openly, but he had a grudge in his spirit, for his service to his father was done out of necessity rather than love.
What’s more, he was completed self-centred; his short speech was full of the word "I". This should make us think if we are always talking of ourselves, of our affairs and our achievements. Do we want to be the centre of attraction? Do we always want attention? Are we self-centred, self-assertive, self-opinionated?
The elder brother was filled with base ingratitude. The entire estate of his father was to be his, and yet he begrudged his returned brother a welcome home party. The story suddenly becomes a tale about two prodigal sons - they were both sick of home. Someone has put it rather well: "The attitude of both the sons was commercial. The younger son wanted an overdraft; the elder wanted to open a deposit account" - each for their selfish pleasure. But God isn’t a bank manager, but a father.
There are many ways to abandon God the Father’s home. Here we have a New Testament version of Adam and Eve in the Garden. Here we have the story of everyone, of you and me: sick of home, but that isn’t the end, because those who are sick of home usually end up in the second phase of the story as:
HOMESICK
It wasn’t very long before the younger son, now free to do exactly as he pleased, began to feel homesick. In those first exciting days when money was plentiful, he scarcely gave a thought of what he’d left behind. There were things to do, places to go to and all kinds of fascinating people to meet in this new world of "Vanity Fair". He was a big spender and seemed to form friendships easily. Life was a whirl of merriment. He never before had laughed so hard or had such fun. It was a wild weekend that went on and on.
But finally the end came. It must have been quite a shock to him when his funds ran out and, lo and behold, his jovial companions were nowhere to be found! That type of fair-weather friend isn’t worth having. The parable tells us that two disasters struck him at the same time - he ran out of money and he ran into a famine. It was his own fault for being extravagant and careless, but he wasn’t responsible for the famine. This points us to the question of "why".
When we’re faced with suffering and disappointment on a personal level, or wonder about the terrible injustice which is the lot of so many, of natural or man-made disasters in the world, do you sometimes ask the question, why oh why? We can blame human free will; we can put the responsibility on to the devil. Or do we blame God himself, for if he is all goodness, surely he couldn’t have wanted this disorder; if he is all-powerful, surely he could have prevented it? The story of evil in the Garden simply faces us with our own responsibility and the response we make. The origin of evil is left within the mystery of God. Perhaps in eternity we will understand.
Our prodigal was now having a hard time - no money, no friends, and in a time of famine, jobs were hard to get. He was now at the bottom of the economic heap. In desperation he sold himself to one of the local farmers and was sent into the fields to feed pigs. It was then that homesickness surged over him. Doesn’t this tell very clearly that Satan is a hard taskmaster? When he’s after his prey he disguises himself in the glitter of the world’s tinsel, he tempts the unsuspecting as an angel of light. He was a deceiver to our first parents in the Garden - and they lost their innocence. The prodigal lost his self-esteem. He felt worthless and without hope. He began to dislike himself for what he had done. Disillusionment set in. He seemed to have fallen into a great hole from which there was no escape. But there was!
At this point in the story Jesus used a very telling expression. He said that the prodigal "came to his senses" (17). The Authorized Version puts it like this: "When he came to himself". Politicians have a saying that if you’ve got yourself in a hole, the first rule is to stop digging! This is precisely what the young man did. Hardship has a wonderful way of bringing people to face facts. The prodigal reflected on the contrast between the starvation he was now experiencing and the plenty enjoyed by even his father’s hired servants who had "bread enough and to spare". He now knew that the far country was not for him. He didn’t belong there.
He realized that what he had trusted in was worthless. He was utterly bankrupt in spirit. What brings a person to that realization? Is it only their poor circumstances? No, it is the conviction brought about by the Holy Spirit, the call to repentance and return to a loving heavenly Father. From being sick of home he’d turned full circle to being homesick and there was only one place to go, and that was:
HOME
Jesus was a great storyteller. He tells us that the father in the parable saw the returning son while he was still a long way off, so he must have been on the look out, perhaps day after day. Here we have a hint of the heavenly Father’s love for the repentant sinner. The message of the Old Testament as far back as the Garden was that God didn’t want mankind to remain in a state of rebellion. He would make provision for forgiveness of sin and reconciliation between God and man through the payment of the penalty for that sin.
The prodigal son had been practicing his speech of repentance and remorse. His sin, he said to himself, had been against both heaven, meaning God, and his father. He’d recognized that he’d forfeited all claims to be treated as a son and he looked only for the possibility of being made like one of the paid servants. He began his prepared speech but he only got two-thirds of it out. His father interrupted him before he got to the bit about him becoming one of his father’s hired men. This was a heavenly Father’s welcome, a welcome of grace.
The boy didn’t deserve it; of course, he didn’t, but that isn’t the point, he’d been forgiven! The parable tells us that the father "threw his arms around him and kissed him" (20). In the east, kissing is a sign of forgiveness and pledge of reconciliation, and here we see a boy who had been estranged from his father, being forgiven and becoming reconciled to his father. This is what the gospel of the Lord Jesus is all about. We can’t pay for our redemption, it can’t be earned - it is a gift from God and must be received as such or not at all.
The parable has much to teach us of this wonderful salvation. We read that "the father said to his servants, Quick, bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet" (22). Much as the father loved his boy, he couldn’t receive him as he was, in his rags and tatters: and the same is true with us. The prophet Isaiah wrote, "All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags" (64:6).
When we return to him in repentance and faith, the first thing he does is to place upon us the robe of righteousness - in other words he sees us through the merits of the Lord Jesus, that is, his atoning sacrifice on the Cross. It doesn’t mean that we’re perfect, far from it, but we’re forgiven and the Spirit of Christ who indwells all who have trusted in him provides for us. It is then our responsibility to live and serve our heavenly Father as sons and daughters of God.
But what about the elder son? When he came home from work that night, what a surprise he had. He was urged by his father to enter into the joy of his brother’s homecoming, but he was sternly unforgiving. There was hate in his heart for his brother and contempt for his father. He showed himself in his true colours as the real prodigal. He saw himself as a model son. Had he not slaved all these years for his father? He was proud and self-righteous. Sadly, he excluded himself from the celebratory meal. And that is the position of all who will not face up to their own sinfulness, whether it be the more open sins of the flesh or the secret sins of the heart and mind - they exclude themselves from the Kingdom of God.
The parable of the younger son ended happily - he was now at home. Some years ago a Christian man passed away rather suddenly and the family put the usual notice in the local newspaper. When I read it I was struck by the significance of the last two words of the announcement - it said "at home". He died peacefully in his home, but in a more wonderful sense, he was "at home" because he was a devout believer in the Lord Jesus - he was in the immediate presence of his Lord.
The parable of the prodigal sons tells the story of each son - in their own way - who were sick of home, but then the story divides, because the younger had the experience of being homesick and returned home, but the elder remained in his unchanged condition. The parable doesn’t tell us whether the elder son eventually relented or how the younger son lived in response to his father’s welcoming love. Perhaps Jesus left the story unfinished to throw out a challenge to all who heard it to decide how they themselves would respond. The father in the parable didn’t prevent the younger son from going into the far country, nor did he compel the elder to join the returning son. God makes the offer, but we have the responsibility to accept it.
Sick of home - homesick - home. The question is: where are we in that sequence?
