Jesus told the story of a young man who, in first-century Jewish parlance, sinned his brains out. It’s difficult for us modern Westerners to understand how bad this kid’s behavior was.
Suffice it to say that we’d be utterly appalled.
To top it off, the young man leaves the holy land of Israel to go and live “in a far off place” with pagans – people who the ancient Jewish mind considered to be godless, morally bankrupt, spiritually filthy people.
He then spends his entire inheritance sinning what’s left of his brains out.
You can’t get worse than this guy.
Ultimately, he parties more than his purse will allow, realizes that he might die, and makes plans to come home.
His first order of business is to craft a speech that he hopes will convince his father to at least make him a slave. That way he can eat, have a place to stay, not die, etc.
It’s at this point that the story tends to get misinterpreted.
The kid’s speech goes like this:
“Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in your sight. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me as one of your hired servants.”
This reads like he’s super sorry. What we miss is the fact that he’s not going home because he feels bad about his error(s), and he’s certainly not going home because he misses his family.
He is, in fact, not sorry, and he’s still not a good person.
He’s hungry. He doesn’t want to die. His plan is to tell his father what he thinks he wants to hear. His “speech” is nothing short of an attempt at manipulation.
Add that to his already long list of stupid.
At this point, Jesus’ audience would be expecting a not-so-happy ending. No self-respecting, first-century, wealthy Jewish father would put up with this crap. Sure, the kid will go home, but his dad might just put him out of his misery.
When father and son are reunited, the kid recites his speech. Word. For. Word, just like he’d rehearsed it:
“Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in your sight. I am no longer worthy to be called your son…”
But dad doesn’t care. his lost son has been returned. He’s beside himself with joy and can’t wait to restore him to his former glory. He doesn’t even let the kid finish his speech.
His love eclipses everything.
Then, dad throws a huge party, which completely pisses off the oldest, much more obedient son, not to mention Jesus’ audience. If we understood how horrible this kid’s behavior was, we’d be angry too. There is absolutely nothing whatsoever that this person has done to earn forgiveness, much less full restoration.
And a party to boot?
This story would be a full-on frontal assault to the way a first century Jewish person thought about God, His forgiveness, and upon whom He gives favor.
This would shiver their understanding of repentance to the timbers.
It assaults ours too. That’s why we interpret this into something that better fits our understanding of God. In our version, yeah, the kid’s a sinner, but he’s not that bad. And he’s sorry. He repents, asks for forgiveness, etc.
To us, the father forgives his son because he repented of his sin.
He didn’t. There was no apology. The only thing the kid did was to come home.
Repentance
We tend to believe that God only grants forgiveness if we ask for it. In modern Western Chrisitan parlance, repentance – an attitude that accepts responsibility and is truly sorry for whatever sin has been committed – is fundamental to the forgiveness of God.
In other words, God will forgive us, but we have to earn it.
Not true in the above parable.
What is Jesus trying to tell us? We can sin our brains out and everything will be OK? Sin doesn’t matter? We don’t have to ask for forgiveness?
Unfortunately for our neatly wrapped and packaged understandings of God, this is a difficult thing to integrate. We’re tempted to craft a system or two in which this parable fits into what we already believe, but I think that’s the wrong way to go.
Personally, I’m not sure what to do with this, but I’ll offer some reflections on how this jacks about with my understanding of the relationship between repentance and the forgiveness of God.
The Bible is full of stories about people getting punished for their faithlessness. So it’s understandable when us Bible folk come to believe that obedience to God is the most important thing for our lives. It’s also understandable that we get a bit lost as the issue of morality actually becomes God, weird as that is.
In this, we begin to think about who’s worthy of forgiveness and who’s not; who’s in and who’s out – an activity commonly referred to as “judging others,” something Jesus told us not to do.
But it’s fun, and comes part and parcel with the belief that we’ve got God and His forgiveness all figured out. Multiple iterations of bad theology come from this.
For example, what about the sins that we don’t know we’re committing; the sins that are impossible to repent of? Does God forgive us for those?
In Jesus’s day, that was covered. Daily, in the sacred temple, a lamb was slaughtered and sacrificed for the “unknown” sins of Israel. You couldn’t get away from the smoke, the smell, and the constant reminder that we’re all clueless.
This is where the phrase “lamb of God” comes from. John the Baptist didn’t forever attach this moniker to Jesus because he believed him to be gentle and fuzzy. He was making a direct reference to this daily sacrifice that applied to the un-owned infractions of the people of Israel.
But John believed Jesus’ sacrifice extended far beyond any national boundaries:
Behold, the lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.
In John’s mind, Jesus would somehow wash all of us clean, remove all of our infractions – Christian, Jewish, Muslim, etc., even the ones we’re not aware of, especially the ones we’re not sorry for.
They would all simply go away, because of Jesus, and God would look at us as if nothing ever happened.
I know, some of you are reading this thinking, “blah blah blah, here he goes again, Jesus, Jesus, blah blah.”
I get it. It’s crazy.
But I also know who you are, and I know you to be someone who wrestles with guilt and fear about the myriad ways that you’ve fallen short of your ideal of how a human is supposed to live.
Christianity is an invitation to lay waste to the guilt and shame that’s been holding you back from becoming who you truly are. These tax the human soul like nothing else.
It’s also an invitation to stop spending so much time considering the sins of others, to stop loving the “obedient” ones, and marginalizing the “sinners.”
Our job is to consider our own sin, to accept the unconditional, boundless forgiveness of God, then extend it to others, then shamelessly wallow in the peace that comes when shame and guilt finally get their comeuppance.
So, yeah, for the small percentage of personal sin that we’re aware of, let’s repent, and be sorry, and commit to change. But let’s stop believing that our repentance changes God, or His posture towards all of humanity.
Repentance doesn’t change God, it changes us.
The prodigal son wasn’t sorry. Neither are we, in many cases, yet still, somehow, there’s forgiveness.
But because we’ve made obedience and morality our God, and because we’ve become addicted to the belittling of people who don’t behave or think or believe as we think they should, we keep ourselves at arm’s length from this crazy, nonsensical brand of forgiveness that God offers.
Jesus gave us the story of a kid who had no idea of the gravity or magnitude of his sin so that we would put ourselves in his worn out shoes, understand the true nature of God, and how far His forgiveness travels.
But the story ends with a warning.
The other son, the “obedient” one, who’s a little too impressed with himself, becomes lost. He doesn’t want to have anything to do with his sinful brother. His father begs him to join the huge party that’s going on, but the lost brother can’t give up his allegience to right and wrong, and refuses the invitation.
That’s where the story ends.
And that’s where I’ll end my thoughts. How many relationships have I broken because I can’t forgive as God does? My failure here implies that I’ve not yet managed to recieve His forgiveness, to let it so overthrow me that I wouldn’t think twice about extending it to others.
Excellently, thoughtfully and theologically astute look at the Prodigal son – and even more importantly, the love of God that overcomes all the roadblocks that we put in the way. A God that loves and forgives us in spite of ourselves.
Yes he is. If we could just believe it a little more than we do.
Inside the mixed bag of beliefs lives fathers, mothers, prodigal kids and their siblings.
Yep – the worlds full of us 🙂
Wow. I’m going to have to think about that. I think you’re the first (/only) person who’s ever explained it like that. (I like this version, even if it’s hard to hear)
Thanx! It might be total bunk, but I think because the author says nothing about the kids attitude, and because the speech is repeated word for word in the Greek, seems pretty obvious that the kids not sorry… t
Question: What has the prodigal son got to be sorry about?
?
Question: Why be so utterly appalled about the wasteful son’s behaviour and not the father’s enabling? For surely the father is happy it didn’t backfire and end in tears (usually the mothers)..
The point of sharing this with an ancient Jewish audience (specifically the self righteous folks) is to bait them in their love of “morality,” at least their version of it, and turn it on its head…
I think in our own special way we are all self righteous.
Amen, that’s why it’s such an important story
Hold on a sec, the story starts with the father and ends with the father. Luke 15:11 he gives both sons their share of the money early, thus enabling the impatience and restlessness one to go off the rails etc etc etc and then Luke 15:32 The father has to celebrate that it didn’t go tits up! Parents take note: Don’t enable your kids to be plonkers.
Interesting take – not sure I agree that the author intends this as a parenting story as it’s told in the context of people who lose valuable things and celebrate when they find them (lost sheep, lost coin, lost son).
“I tell you that even so there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents, than over ninety-nine righteous people who need no repentance.” Luke 15:7
Did the parent repent? I’ve been making a post about it, care to see? I will click [Publish] shortly.
Again, interesting, but there’s nothing in the text that indicates the author trying to communicate some kind of sin on the parent’s part.
I have learned , that you can’t pay for guilt . So let him live with it……GUILT
This story has made me cry before; in times when I knew I wasn’t sorry for what I had done. This is the effect of sin on our hearts. It warps us so that we cannot feel the depth of it anymore – we are also proud in our hearts and are hard-pressed to admit any wrong on our part. Sometimes it is just circumstance that makes us realize that we have a home or a Father that we can lean on.
So then, a tender hearted Father or mother would obviously be overwhelmed by just the sight of seeing the son that was gone for a long time. That’s the nature of good parents. The love they exhibit is ready to embrace us at our lowest, and
…and the love of God is greater, as our Father in Heaven, and this love goes beyond how we merely FEEL. For once you knock at the door, you cannot help but feel sorry after such love has been pronounced by His promise, that He is faithful and just to forgive ALL our iniquities. When we dare to step into His presence, we are immediately reminded of His goodness and that warmth compels us to truly be grieved for leaving Him and dealing foolishly. The heart cannot help but be grieved in the presence of such love, and the goodness of God draws us. The initial thoughts are selfish but God knew that we would deal treacherously, and would have to make bad choices to understand the value of His wisdom and understanding, and once we are simply ready to knock on the door, He is ready always to receive us just as we are.
Me too. You have to wonder what happened to the son after he was restored. I wish I could say that God’s forgiveness has born a deep sense of appreciation and satisfaction but it hasn’t, not always at least. I still struggle to believe and to obey the rules of love, forgiveness, mercy etc. that drove God to take away my sin and love me. I guess I’ll always be working on it 🙂
So basically – no reason to not sin or live a good life in the light of God. Just be a totally lose, vile sinner who takes what you can and squander it, be sexually immoral, unscrupulous, screw people over but then crawl back home when you’re desperate enough to be provided for, use and leech more off your ‘father’ and get fawned over with parties and fatted calves even though you’re not actually sorry – just desperate with a good manipulative speech. Pretty sweet deal.
Where did I say all of that? And aren’t we all hopeless sinners?
It’s not about what you said – it’s what the Bible says in the parable. The parable doesn’t lend to all being hopeless – the other son was still there with the father the whole time implying he wasn’t hopeless. That good, loyal, sacrificial son wasn’t even invited to the party – he was still out working hard in the fields like a servant when he came back at the end of the day to find music and feasting – something he was never given, as he mentioned.
The parable doesn’t seem to be representative of only immense forgiveness, but of immense enabling of a narcissistic person who’s coming back to drain more resources from the source who allows and celebrates it. He returns because his father’s servants are in a better state than him – not because he’s ‘seen the light’ and is so sorry and loves and misses his family so much. He returns because he ran out of money. The parable seems very clear that he’s giving a good speech, but he’s back for what he can get, not for actual repentance.
In short, he is sorry for the consequences of his choices he felt and was subjected to, not for actually making those choices and the pain and devastation he caused in doing so.
Bluntly – if the prodigal son had money remaining or other options – he’d still be out whoring. Not exactly indicative of repentance or interest in real forgiveness of being a hopeless sinner. Hence my first statement. Take care. 🙂
Just thought of a more succinct summary of where I’m coming from.
Father: God
Prodigal Son: Sinner
Entire basis of Christianity: True repentance and believe in Jesus/God as Savior to gain salvation.
Prodigal Son Story: Not truly repentant, doesn’t believe in the Father per se, just selfishly and desperately wants more luxury and provision from him and knows he can provide it. Yet still gets salvation – and rewarded on a more massive scale than the loyal serving son.
So the story does not line up with the very basic foundation of Christianity where true repentance and belief is required for salvation.
I read that this parable was really making you consider universalism. But I think proper exegesis would prompt you to reconsider. This parable seems to be talking about a son who returns home to his “sonly” status. So, for the parable’s sake (which takes place right after the lost sheep and lost coin parable), it is talking about a sheep who has sheep status, backslid, and returned. The sheep’s sins had already been paid for and bought on the cross. This sheep then returned to shepherd (his father). His sins were already paid for and so he was readily received.
And since he was a sheep (son), he would never have been lost. He would always belong to the father.
Jesus talks about His sheep in John, “I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me,is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand.“
John 10:28-29.
But I do tend to agree with your assessment that the son does not ask for forgiveness but rather confesses his sin, which carries with it other interesting questions. Like do we need to continue to ask for forgiveness if we continue to sin while already being saved? 1 John 1:9, Lord’s Prayer and Jesus washing the disciples feet seem to indicate so.
Thanks for prompting good food for thought
I believe you still have missed the point. This chapter of Luke 15 has three parables: “The Lost Sheep, the Lost Coin, and the Lost Sons”. It is addressed to the righteous people: “Now the tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to hear him. And the Pharisees and the scribes grumbled, saying, ‘This man receives sinners and eats with them.’ ” (Luke 15:1-2) So, the whole point of the story about the younger son sets up the parallel situation to the first two: the lost has been found–we MUST rejoice!
Only now it’s the older, righteous son who is lost, who has enslaved himself to being “good” and obeying every little thing his father asks. He doesn’t even get a goat to celebrate with his friends–why not? His BROTHER got the whole inheritance due him when he asked; would his father refuse any reasonable request? Or even any unreasonable one? Not likely!
But will the elder son realize what has trapped him, where he has gotten lost–as the younger son did–and come in to ask forgiveness and rejoice?
I agree with you, but I wrote this for the crowd that believes that the parable is some sort of manual for repentance. I think Jesus compares a horribly sinful, unrepentant offspring to a valuable coin or a valuable piece of livestock. Nobody in his audience would make the same comparison. The older brother (analog for the “righteous people” in Jesus’ audience) sure didn’t.