The Prodigal Son
There was a man who had two sons. The younger one said to his father, “Father, give me my share of the estate.” So he divided his property between them.
Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.
When he came to his senses, he said, “How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.” So he got up and went to his father.
But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.
The son said to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.”
But 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. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.” So they began to celebrate.
Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. “Your brother has come,” he replied, “and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.”
The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. But he answered his father, “Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for 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.”
Whether we realize it or not, we have an obsession with stories. This is not necessarily a bad thing—it is how we learn, how we remember, and how we hold on to what is true. Even works of fiction or mythology hold certain truths within them—they need not be stories that are literally true, but they may have an important moral lesson or something you can relate to via the characters or circumstances. Fictional stories with little or no truth would have long been discarded as not useful to us.
In the case of the famous story of The Prodigal Son in Luke 15:11-32, we have a story within a story. We are reading a story about the life in Christ, and within this story, Christ is telling a story. And this is not just any story—it is in fact a parable. So, is The Prodigal Son story real or true? Is it literally true or symbolically true? Did this story actually happen?
One of the definitions from the Oxford English Dictionary for the word ‘parable’ is as follows:
A (usually realistic) story or narrative told to convey a moral or spiritual lesson or insight; especially one told by Jesus in the Gospels.
We get the word parable from the Greek word parabolē, meaning comparison (as in a side-by-side comparison). Christian author John MacArthur writes that, “Parables are plainly and purposely figurative,” and that they are “a simple metaphor or simile conveyed in story form. It is first and foremost a comparison.”
So, we can safely conclude that this story is meant to teach an important lesson—in this case, multiple important lessons—and the method by which we’ll be doing this is by comparing what is inside the story to what is outside the story: ourselves. We see ourselves in this story, because we know the truths found here to be real and tangible. As opposed to an allegory or apocalyptic story—which can contain somewhat hidden meanings that might need to be interpreted—this tale is simple, direct, and highly realistic. It’s so realistic, in fact, that we have no problem relating to it today—even in a very different time and culture.
MacArthur writes that:
Of all Jesus’ parables, this one is the most richly detailed, powerfully dramatic, and intensely personal. It’s full of emotion—ranging from sadness, to triumph, to a sense of shock, and finally to an unsettling need for more closure. The characters are familiar, so it’s easy for people to identify with the prodigal, to feel the father’s grief, and yet still (to some degree) sympathize with the elder brother—all at the same time.
To begin, Jesus opens the story with: “There was a man who had two sons.” The Bible is extremely self-referential, and this opening line would have brought to mind (to those who were Biblically literate) earlier stories with a similar opening about two sons: Cain and Abel, Isaac and Ishmael, Jacob and Essau, etc.
In any case, the younger son is not content—and I would argue, impatient, narcissistic, and greedy, as many of us tend to be in our younger years. Never mind that the father goes along with his son’s idea, which begs the question: Did the father assume that his son would return? Or did he let his son go, regardless of what might happen?
And so, upon the father’s agreement, the son leaves home for some distant land and squanders every bit of his inheritance. Interestingly enough, I learned that the etymology (word history) of the word ‘prodigal’ comes from the Latin word prodigus, meaning:
...wasteful, spending money or resources freely and recklessly; lavish. Given to extravagant expenditure.
It is only after this story do we associate the word ‘prodigal’ with not just the careless and naive youth, but one who eventually comes home broken, remorseful, and ready for change.
Today in our culture, it’s fairly normal for young adults to leave home in search of an education or career, but during the time of this story, this would have been incredibly rare. Even so, we can probably all agree that the younger son’s desire for his father’s wealth now is shameful.
But it’s actually worse than you might think. N.T. Wright explains:
When the father divided the property between the two sons, and the younger son turned his share into cash, this must have meant that the land the father owned had been split into two, with the younger boy selling off his share to someone else. The shame that this would bring on the family would be added to the shame the son had already brought on the father by asking for his share before the father’s death; it was the equivalent of saying, “I wish you were dead.”
Many of us can probably relate to the younger son’s behavior after he leaves home. He’s on his own, free of responsibility, and left to his own devices. As young people, we assume that this sort of thing means freedom, but unfortunately the opposite is true.
In our pursuit of our own selfish desires, we slowly become slaves to our wants and are constantly left empty, for no appetite can fill the void in our hearts. From my own experience, I know this part of the story to be true. Spend and consume all you wish, but it will never be enough.
Sources:
MacArthur, John. The Prodigal Son. Thomas Nelson, 2008.
Wright, N.T. Luke For Everyone. Westminster John Knox Press, 2001.