Luke 15:11-32 tells a wonderful parable that included the story of the Lost Son, sometimes referred to as the Prodigal Son. It is full of comfort and hope for the lost in Christ to regain their royal robes when they return to the Father. But there is much more to the story.

This story tells of a rebellious and reckless-then-repentant younger son who squandered his premature inheritance, shamefully living a life of luxury. After he runs out of money and a famine hit the land where he is living, he is reduced to feeding the pigs and eating their scraps. He realizes that his father’s slaves would be treated better than this so he devises a plan to return to his father, throw himself on his father’s mercy and beg his father to hire him as a servant.

The father never gives up hope on his son. He waits every day at the edge of the road, straining his vision down the road to see if his son will return that day.

Meanwhile, the family suffers almost as if the son had died. The older brother is angry that the father gave his brother the money. Jealousy. Envy. The mother is probably crying every night for the loss of her child. Regret. Shame. The father has to remain in control and never sheds a tear, but still misses the son. Remorse. Guilt.

Jesus told this story in a series of parables in Luke 15 when he was gathered around a dinner table with the tax collectors and sinners. Most people tell this story as a lesson of God’s grace when the repentant sinner returns home, some tell the story from the older brother’s prospective of envy and jealousy, but actually Jesus told this story in defense of his practice of fellowshiping with sinners. His focus was meant more on the father’s attitude of forgiveness as a lesson to us on how we should act when someone offends us.

To get a better grasp on this let’s take a look at the Middle Eastern culture and how it relates to the story.

Take for example, when the son asked for his share of the estate. This request is far more offensive than we might think. Heirs didn’t normally receive their inheritance until the father was dead or was unable to manage his estate. Asking for his portion early was a major offense because from a Middle Eastern prospective, it was like wishing his father was dead. It was like saying, “hey dad, die already so I can get what’s coming to me!” You may have seen something like this in the movies when the family is gathered around the lawyer’s office arguing who will get what before the reading of the will. Or worse yet, when they are around the hospital bed debating on who will get what and the person isn’t even dead yet.

The father’s expected response to this request should have been, in anger, to slap his son in the face with the back side of his left hand. Actually this is more degrading in the Middle East than using the right hand or an open palm.

Jesus knew how shocking this would be to his crowd of listeners. No respectful son would ever ask for his inheritance early nor would they abandon their family for distant lands.

Instead the father grants his request and gives the son a portion of his estate.

Traditionally 2/3 of the estate would be given to the principal heir, the oldest son, and the remaining 1/3 would be divided amongst the remaining sons. In this case there was only one other son. So the Prodigal determined what 1/3 of his father’s estate would amount to. He would quickly liquidate this amount into cash selling parts of the father’s property, as their wealth was in their land and not in a bank account. The son took the cash and left for another country.

Another offense to the father was that the child went to the land of the Gentiles, breaking away from the family heritage. (We know he was with the Gentiles because the story tells us he got a job feeding pigs.) With a wallet loaded with cash, this child headed for the Middle Eastern equivalent of Las Vegas or New Orleans, straight for the nightclubs on Bourbon Street. The son did not want to stay close to home so he could indulge himself away from his father’s watchful eyes. The story says the son lost his money with (using the various translations) riotous, loose, reckless, foolish, wild, extravagant living, all assuming he’s messing around with women too. The Living Bible goes so far to say, “parties and prostitutes.”

The community’s reaction to this whole ordeal would cause shame to the father. Selling the property prior to the father’s death was like the son was denying his heritage and it “red flagged” the fight within the family to the community. Townspeople probably said, “What? You are selling the orchard your great-grandfather planted himself?” Because the father needed to do this quickly he probably lost some money on the value of selling the property. The anger of the villagers for what the son was doing to his father escalated so much that the prodigal needed to “get out of Dodge” quickly.

The son also knew from his upbringing that he could in no way lose his money to the Gentiles otherwise he would never be able to go home. Upon his return to the community he would be subjected to the Kezazah Ceremony. This ceremony was for any young man who married an immoral woman or lost the family inheritance among the Gentiles. If he dared return to the village he would be dragged to the center of town. A large clay pot filled with burnt beans, nuts and corn would be broken at his feet and everyone would shout, “so and so is cut off” and after that he would be banned from the village. No one from that town would give him food, drink, or shelter nor would they hire him nor have anything to do with him.

So as you can see the father was totally humiliated and offended much more than we could ever imagine.

His son had not only offended his family but also his community. The son had burned all the bridges in that town.

Our relationships are like bridges that take us from one place to another. When we “burn our bridges” we damage those relationships and the value that they could mean to us at a later time. The idiom, “burning your bridges” came from the ancient armies, especially those of the Roman Empire when invading hostile territories. If they armies arrived there by crossing a river, the commanding officer often would order the boats and/or bridges burned so there could be no turning back, no possible retreat. This ensured that the soldiers would fight the hardest so as to stay alive. Thus the meaning “don’t burn your bridges” means to not cut off all means of escape or retreat. 

The self-centered younger son had only one thing on his mind. How fast they could convert the assets to cash was how fast he could get out of town. What he did after leaving home got him the title “prodigal.”

Dictionary defines “prodigal” as a person who spends, or has spent, his or her money or substance with wasteful extravagance. Aristotle described a prodigal child as “a man who has a single evil quality, that of wasting his substance.”

Anyone reading this have a prodigal child? I’d rather call them a “lost child” than a prodigal. Anyone been humiliated or offended by such child? Anyone a prodigal themselves?

I’m sure the father of the prodigal son was on his knees every night praying that God would bring his son back. His pillow might have been stained with tears from crying every night. And every day he waited and watched down the road hoping to see a glimpse of his son returning home. Every day he probably regretted letting his son leave.

Then one day, could have been years later, he sees the figure coming down the road. It’s his son coming home. The father runs to greet him.

This is the ultimate lesson for us to learn. How will we react when our prodigal comes home?
Can we forgive him for the terrible words he said? Can we forgive her for the things she did? When the prodigal tries to ask for our forgiveness will we say welcome home? When the prodigal returns will we be like that father and run out to greet him?

When we were still a sinner, God the Father, ran to greet us the day we walked up that long road. He was waiting there for us. He did not holler at us nor condemn us for what we had done. But instead, he ran out to greet us, put His loving arms around us and said, “welcome home!”

I wonder if before my salvation did my heavenly Father cry every night for what I was doing in my life.

No matter where you are in your life, God loves you and wants you to come home. He’s still waiting there for you!

He will forgive you of all your sins and bestow upon you the royal robe, the sandals, and the ring that signifies you are a Child of the King!

You only need to decide you don’t want to live the way you have and take that walk up the long road home! He WILL be waiting there for you!

Taken from a sermon on the Prodigal Child by Kris Rhoades

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2009

Used by Permission