I’ve been contemplating Jesus’ parable of the Prodigal Son all week in preparation for Sunday. I’ve preached the parable many times before (find one example here), so one of things that makes it so difficult to preach again is finding something fresh and new to say.

You remember the parable, right? A man had two sons. The younger son tells the father that he wants his share of his father’s estate now. The father divides his estate between his two sons and the younger son travels to a distant land where he wastes his money in “prodigal” living.

When the younger son “comes to himself,” he devises a scheme to return home to the father. Surprisingly, the father receives him back and throws the grandest of parties for his lost son who is now found.

Meanwhile, the older son returns home after working in the father’s fields. He discovers the party being thrown for the younger son and becomes angry. He refuses to go in and participate, so the father comes out to him. “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found‘” (Luke 15:32).

A Story Once Told

I’ve shared the story of the first time my grandfather let me drive solo (find it here), so I’ll not share it here again, but I said that I didn’t understand it then that my grandfather was painting me a picture of God’s grace. As a matter of full confession, now that I’m so much older (that was almost 50 years ago!), I’m not so sure I understand it any better. Oh, I understand what my grandfather was doing, but I don’t really understand grace any better.

Okay, okay, okay! Yes, I do understand grace better…and, that’s the problem. I understand it. I just don’t want to live it. In my old age…the age when I should be living more as the Father than either of the sons…I find myself in the older son.

Jesus told the story to the scribes and Pharisees who were complaining about Jesus eating with sinners. In response to their complaint, he tells three stories: the lost sheep, the lost coin and the lost son. Each one builds upon the other with the climax being the return of the lost son to the family. It is no wonder, that in response to the Pharisee and scribes, the story ends with the father’s interaction with the older son. The implication is clear: the older son was representative of the scribes and Pharisees.

Good Guys or Bad Guys

This is where it gets sticky for me. The scribes and the Pharisees in the New Testament are the bad guys, right? But, I consider the older son for a moment and I think, “Wait! He’s really not that bad.”

Here’s what we know about the older son. First, he was industrious. He was working the fields. He was doing his duty. Aren’t those laudable characteristics?

He was also very prudent. He said to his father, “…this son of yours has squandered your property…”

The older son exhibited loyalty to the father. He was where he was supposed to be doing what he was supposed to be doing. As a matter of fact, it was his loyalty, industriousness and prudence that kept the family farm together. It was because of him that the younger son even had a place to return to at all. He was the good son.

I want to be the good son. I like hard work. I like industriousness. I like prudence. I like loyalty. What is the danger in any of those qualities? Well, I can only tell you what I see in me…

The Pharisee in Me

First, sometimes I think I care more about tradition than I do people. I get too busy working that I don’t see the need of people around me…or I just don’t care. Apparently, the older brother knew what the younger son was up to: “squandered your property on prostitutes” (vs. 30). He knew but he didn’t do anything about it. Was it because he didn’t care?

Have I become hardened to the brokenness of others? Am I indifferent to the suffering around me? I’m reminded of what Clovis Chappell said, “There is no more dangerous or cruel sin than that of indifference–the ability to look upon the wounds and woes of others and be unmoved.”

God help me, but sometimes I really feel like I don’t care! I feel like a man standing on a pier watching someone drown and rather than throwing them a rope I simply say, “Shoulda’ learned to swim like I did.”

The world is going to hell. The world needs grace and I need to show it, but it’s just so hard! It’s hard because of the second thing I see in me, and that is that my sense of duty and justice have taken the place of joy in my life. My sense of justice can cause me to get angry. I didn’t say righteously indignant. There’s a difference.

Righteous indignation is born of love. Anger is born of envy. Jesus demonstrated righteous indignation when he drove the money changers out to the Temple (Matthew 21: 12-17). It was his love and concern for the people that motivated him. On the other hand, it was the envy of the Pharisees that motivated them to pursue Jesus, even to his death. What motivates me? I wonder?

Become the Father

This older son was farther away from the father than the younger son ever was. He may have been close in proximity, but he was further in experience. I think it is because the older son just didn’t understand the father. The father tells him, “Everything I have is yours…(vs. 31).” The father had already given it to him: “So he divided his property between them (v. 12).” The older son spent a lifetime trying to earn what he had already been given.

The implication of the entire story is for all of us–both older sons and younger–sons to become like the father. But, I’m just going to leave it right here–grace is easier to receive than it is to give. Honestly, the Father has got a whole lot more work to do in me.

So, I guess that’s why I still don’t understand. Maybe one day I will.

Until next time, keep looking up…