While the story is given the title “The Prodigal Son” in reference to the son who left home
with his part of the inheritance to spend it in a prodigal (i.e., extravagant, wasteful)
manner, it is a story that involves so much more than just the prodigal son. Of everything
I had ever heard or read regarding this parable of Jesus, it occurred to me one day that there
are four things in this parable that are not mentioned from which we can gain invaluable insight.
My first “unseen lesson” is that it’s interesting to note that of the father’s sons, there was no
“faithful” son mentioned. There was the son who was the “prodigal” who rebelled and left
home to squander his inheritance; then there was the son who rebelled through his bitter,
jealous spirit upon the prodigal son’s return and his father’s joyful celebration.
This intrigued me: surely each son considered himself to be faithful at some point – at least prior to
the prodigal’s decision to depart. Yet neither son was truly faithful about his state in life (prior to the
prodigal’s departure), for their unfaithfulness was more obviously manifested after the prodigal’s return.
The supposedly “faithful” son who stayed behind is discovered to be unfaithful, revealing
what truly was in his heart: before his brother’s departure with his share of the inheritance,
nothing is revealed about his heart; but upon his brother’s return, and as he sees the unfolding
events of his father’s rejoicing, then we see what was lurking in his heart all along. It took his
brother’s eventual coming to his senses and throwing himself at his father’s feet, to manifest
his dissatisfaction and prideful spirit.
I believe there is no faithful son mentioned because, as it relates to us (or, directly, to Israel),
there is no faithful son. What I mean is this: as we go through life, I think we are either the “prodigal” son, impetuously leaving our father’s care and foolishly wasting our “inheritance;”
or, we are the son who stays home who, while thinking himself to be the “faithful” one, really
isn’t faithful because he truly has a bitter, envious and grudging heart.
Why did these sons have these problems? I think there are three issues, all related to an
“identity crisis.”
(1) They didn’t know who they were – they were their father’s sons, yet they thought and acted
independently from their true identity.
(2) They didn’t know what they were – they thought themselves to be something different
than they actually were; they considered themselves faithful sons, and yet manifested their
unfaithfulness by their behavior and attitudes.
(3) Most importantly, they didn’t know their father – they didn’t know who he was. The
returning son thought no more of his father than an angry, overbearing, demanding master,
asking only to be treated as a servant, a slave in order to be accepted, rather than a son. The
resentful son thought no more of his father than an insensitive, inconsiderate superior, thus
never realizing that he possessed his inheritance all along. Neither of the sons acknowledged
the inestimable value of their relationship with their father.
In short, the second unseen lesson is that both sons were self-absorbed. Not recognizing the
faithfulness of their father, and not being familiar with his love, concern and care for them,
their attitudes and actions demonstrated just how self-centered they really were, in spite of
their father’s commitment to their welfare.
A third thing we don’t “see” is whether the resentful son’s bitter heart was ever resolved with
either his father, or his brother. How the father’s heart must have ached as well for this son
who revealed his heart’s true essence through his resentful spirit. Yet the father’s love and
wisdom is illustrated by the affectionate and tender response to the son who stayed behind,
gently urging him to be a part of the family’s celebration, and lovingly assuring him of his
standing as his son. I believe their relationships were, at some point beyond the end of the
parable, reconciled and healed, for after all, is this not the final outcome of true love?
It is the father’s attitude of grace and charity that fills me with unabated hope. While the
second son’s angst over his father’s sudden “memory lapse” regarding his brother’s “failure” is
left unsettled, what gives me such hopeful anticipation that it one day will finally be resolved,
even though it may take a long time, is what I believe lays buried in the human heart: that
there really is such a thing as True Love which reconciles sons to each other, and to their
Father.
Finally, we do not read any mention of the father’s concern for the inheritance that was
lost by the departed son. Instead, we perceive the immense relief, joy and gratitude of the
father – which is the manifestation of his true heart – for his son’s safe, albeit humiliating and
ignominious return. His concern was for the welfare of his sons, not the loss of earthly fleeting
riches, the possession of which is only temporary, and can bring none of the fulfillment which
occurs only with those things which are truly valuable in our lives, those “unseen” riches. Look
at I Corinthians 13:4-13, and visualize the father’s behavior in his interaction with his sons:
“Charity suffereth long, and is kind … seeketh not her own … beareth all things, endureth
all things … Charity never faileth … the greatest … is charity.”
If I may be allowed the liberty to paraphrase for today’s language:
Love is extremely patient … and is kind … is not self-serving or self-seeking, but rather
seeks what’s best for others … bears and endures all hardships and inconveniences,
even when we may suffer as a result … Love – true love – never fails … of faith hope
and love, love is the greatest.
The word “charity” as used today in our society conveys with it the idea of giving, especially
from personal belongings. Thus it implies sacrifice of a greater or lesser degree, because to give
of something that is ours is to procure personal loss for the benefit of someone else. Therefore,
true love is manifested by allowing the loss of possession to personal detriment for another’s
need. It is truly an act of selflessness. What a beautiful description of the father’s love towards
his sons: he allowed one son to leave contrary to his own desire for him, and he suffered his
other son’s resentment knowing that he could not force him to change his heart. This is a
wonderful demonstration of the character of grace which was resident in the father’s heart.
We don’t see the father arguing and striving with his sons about their choices. Rather, if what
we read of the father’s dialogue with his son who stayed home is of any signification of his
manner, I think it safe to presume that he lovingly counseled and guided his sons about what
he thought was the best course of action for them, while allowing them to choose their own
path. How it must have pierced the father’s heart to see one of his sons embark on a venture
that not only separated them, but held much risk and peril for the son as well.
Can we imagine how torn was the father’s heart as his son left, turning his back on his father
as he headed for what he thought would be the grand adventure of his life? How the father’s
heart must have ached at his son’s departure and continued absence, longing to put his arms
around him that, in expressing his love for him, would keep him from leaving. How long must
he have stood there, watching the profile of his son shrink and eventually disappear into the
horizon. It must have felt like a part of him died with his son’s exodus. Yet the father would not
force his will, his earnest desire for what he knew was best for his son, upon his son. How his
heart must have ached with his son’s each plodding step forward, every second dragging into
a seeming eternity. Still, the father would not force his son to act contrary to his heart. Instead,
with what must have been tears in his eyes, he kept his heart and his arms open, waiting for the day that his son would remember the last loving embrace of his father and know that he could come home.
There was no anger or bitterness on the father’s part over the prodigal’s behavior, regardless of
how foolish he may have thought his son to be. There were no legalistic, judgmental demands
from the father that only if and when his son might finally “get his act together,” acknowledge
his wrongdoing, and then “repent in all humility” that he would then be allowed to return
home. NO! Rather, his immense love for his children resulted in the ultimate victory of his
love: his son knew and eventually remembered that he had a loving, caring father and home
to which he could return.
The attitude of the father’s grace was such that he left the door open, which eventually would
facilitate the son’s return. Can we not hear the father saying to his departing son, “My son,
I love you, and you will always be welcome, here in our home. There is always a place for
you, and I will be here, waiting for you should you desire to return.” Thus, even in the midst
of the son’s failure, humiliation and self-condemnation, he could still think and reason within
himself, at the end of himself, “I can go home – I will go home – to my father.”
Notice that while the son was “yet a great way off, his father saw him.” This, to me, is one of
the most exciting parts of this story, because it tells me that the father was looking for his son!
This implies that he had never stopped looking, had been ever straining at the horizon, hoping
every day that he might catch the slightest vision of his departed son’s return. Then, one day,
Finally! The father glimpses his son just on the horizon! Can you see the excitement in the
father’s face, the tears of joy and rejoicing in the father’s eyes as he runs to greet his son, his
arms still open in eager anticipation of the embrace of his son? Can you see them together as
they grasp each other and twirl around in a frenzied dance of absolute and utter delight?
Observe also that, while the son began to articulate to his father his well-rehearsed speech
– a humiliating confession of his sinful behavior – it was as though his father didn’t even hear
what he said, as though to say that none of the past behavior of his son had any bearing on
the present reality. All that really mattered to the father was the here and now.
Now, is this not our story – our parable, if you will – as well? Surely, we all consider ourselves
to be “faithful” to some extent or degree. We all judge ourselves as faithful servants of our
Father, faithfully doing our part, when really within our hearts we are self-centered and selfabsorbed,
wanting only what we desire for ourselves, and not considering that our father
knows what is best for us. Therefore we either strike out on our own, forsaking our father’s
wisdom in favor of our own impetuousness and conducting our lives with reckless abandon;
or we “faithfully” “stay behind,” all the while resenting our brother for doing and “getting
away with” what we in our heart might have desired all along but for our sense of “duty,”
and furthermore resenting him (and possibly even his father) for the lavish celebration for his
brother which he probably felt should have been reserved for him for “faithfully” maintaining
his station.
In my personal conviction about this wonderful parable, I believe that the reason there is
no “faithful son” mentioned is that there is only the two sons, and that eventually they will
become the faithful father!
In other words, it is not until we have transitioned through the phase of either of the sons (or
both), playing our part in life’s parable, that we are able to become, and take on the role of, the
faithful father. Furthermore, it is only through the faithful demonstration of the father’s grace,
love, longsuffering, compassion and wisdom that we learn to be faithful ourselves – when we
eventually fulfill our role as that faithful father.
Now, all of this is not to overshadow the ultimate lesson of this parable: that this parable is
really about God – that God is the Faithful Father Who patiently and affectionately waits for
His sons to transition through their childish phases of selfishness and pride – waiting for the
day when they become faithful sons of their Faithful Father, meanwhile gently and lovingly
reminding us of our place in His family as His sons, regardless of where our own path may
temporarily lead us.
Is not our Father truly wise? Has He not shared His counsel with us (Scripture), and yet we
avoid it? Has He not demonstrated His Love for us (the cross), and yet we reject it? Does not
His heart ache for His sons who have wandered aimlessly away from His provision for them,
or bitterly resent their brothers, and yet we hear not the silent crying of His broken heart?
Yet He patiently and lovingly has kept His heart and His arms open, waiting and anxiously
watching for us to come home, home where the doors have been kept open.
Our Heavenly Father has never been an angry, overbearing, demanding, insensitive and inconsiderate
Father, insisting that we His children first “get our act together” before beginning
our journey home, before He will open the doors and let us come home. No, He has always
loved us emphatically with an unflinching and unfailing love. Just like the returning son and
the resentful son, our Father accepts us in every bit of our failed, fallible, fallen state, having no
expectations of us than that we will eventually come to the end of ourselves, and finally recognize
and acknowledge Him for Who He is: our Father; our only Loving, Eternal Father, Who
has always coveted our best interest, and Who has always pursued our ultimate welfare.
Notably, this “Prodigal Son” story is included with two other stories: the lost sheep, and the
lost coin; all of which is a response of Jesus to the objections and harassment brought against
Him by the religious zealots of His day (the Pharisees and scribes – the resentful son): All
three of these are really part of one parable, and are dealing with the Pharisees’ and scribes’
objection to Jesus’ association with those whom these religious zealots considered to be lowerclass
citizens, at the least unworthy of their consideration, at the worst unworthy of God’s.
These people were the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the “lost son” of this parable, and Jesus
was showing that they had immense – indeed, immeasurable – value to the Father, and that
“even they” are worthy of the Father’s every and constant effort to ensure they will be found,
and eventually brought home.
Our life in this world is our passage through the parable of the prodigal son. We have immense
– indeed, immeasurable – value to the Father, and “even we” are worthy of the Father’s every
and constant effort to ensure we will be found, and eventually brought home. How truly wise
is our Father, Who patiently awaits our return home, Who lovingly lets us live our lives as we
choose, and devotedly guides our hearts, not forcing us to follow His counsel, but tenderly
and passionately persuades us towards forgiveness and reconciliation. His zeal and love for us
compels Him to do nothing less.
He has reconciled us to Himself (II Corinthians 5:18); our Father desires that we discover who
He is, who we are in Him and who and what He made us to be, and thereby be reconciled to
each other. Then all that remains is the celebration upon our homecoming – none of the past
will be brought to bear upon the excitement and exhilaration of the fantastic festivity of the
Father’s reveling and exultation as he reclaims His children from the far county, rejoicing in
the here and now of that moment!
“In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths”
(Proverbs 3:6).
“While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for
the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal”
(II
Corinthians 4:18).
