Let’s Rethink the Story of the Prodigal Son

The prodigal son is one of the most well-known and popular of Jesus’ parables. Who doesn’t love a good story of redemption? It’s a beautiful picture of the father running when he sees his wayward son coming home. We love to see the restoration of the prodigal son, and it reflects the heart of our God. I hope we keep preaching these points.

In recent years, I have heard more people make the point that this story is really about the anger of the older brother. He refuses to go to the party. The extravagance of grace is lost on him. And many see within this an indictment upon the scribes and Pharisees. After all, these parables are a response to their callousness towards redemption. I think we should continue to highlight this as part of the meaning.

But there is something going on in this parable that I think we often miss. You’ll have to stick with me to get there, though.

What Is the Context of This Parable?

The beginning of Luke 15 is a key to understanding all of the parables. Tax collectors and sinners are drawing near to Jesus. The Pharisees and the scribes are not celebrating this— they are grumbling. They are upset that the heart of Jesus “receives sinners and eats with them.”

Jesus responds to this accusation by giving a couple of parables. First, he paints a familiar picture of a shepherd going after a lost sheep. It’s what a good shepherd does. He goes after the broken and the wayward to bring them back into the fold. When he finds that sheep and brings him back, there ought to be rejoicing. Why aren’t the Pharisees rejoicing?

He then gives them another parable about a lost coin. A lady has ten coins, loses one and then turns over the house in order to find it. When she finds it, she celebrates. When something lost is found we celebrate. Why would we not do that when “sinners” repent? Why aren’t the Pharisees rejoicing?

The story of the prodigal is an extended story but it follows the same basic theme. The prodigal returns, the father celebrates, but the older brother doesn’t. Why would he not celebrate? Shouldn’t he be rejoicing alongside the father that this a precious member of the family is now back in the fold? Why aren’t the Pharisees rejoicing?

Let’s look a little closer at the heart of the older brother.

The Heart of the Older Brother

Put yourself in the place of the Pharisees for a moment. You’ve been putting in hard work to please God and to make your country better. You’ve done what you could to live right, to follow God’s laws and commands. You’ve been doing this since you were a child, and for the most part you’ve succeeded. When people look at you, they think of someone who is righteous — who has their stuff together. That’s not a bad thing.

But you also have a bit of disappointment. There is still so much immorality in the land. There are many people not following the path of God. They are selling out to the culture around you. They are stomping all over the 10 Commandments. And this, you believe firmly, is why you are under Roman rule. You aren’t free in your own land, you’re still paying outrageous taxes, and the promises of God do not seem to be coming to fruition — mostly because of these tax collectors and sinners all around you. They aren’t faithful and it’s why you aren’t living in the blessing of God.

And it’s because of these tax collectors and sinners that this Jesus guy is now casting judgment upon you. It’s also why you do not believe he is the Messiah. Because when Messiah comes, he is going to fix everything. He’ll punch the Romans in the teeth. He’ll cast out of our kingdom all these unrighteous sinners, purging the land of all this evil. But that son of a carpenter isn’t doing that. He’s eating with them. (Here you can add about twenty exclamation points, angry steam coming out the ears, and the disdainful eye roll of an eighth-grade girl when I make a dad joke). Messiah will reward us, you think.

Jesus is flipping all of this on its head. He’s eating with the sinners and tax collectors and throwing shade on the religious leaders. He spends more time with the outcasts than the well-to-do within the synagogue. He is part of the problem. He receives sinners. And that word for “receives” is a warm and welcoming word. It isn’t that Jesus is holding his nose and tolerating filth. He’s rolling out the red carpet, celebrating their presence, slaying the fattened calf. He’s enjoying them as people and glad to be in their presence — as if the party couldn’t start until they are there.

That’s too much for the religious leaders of Jesus’ day.

Does Grace Make You Angry?

Notice in this story where Jesus places “them.” They are “out in the field.” He is working. He is doing what the good son does, working for the family. He has the filth of hard work upon him, not squalor and Gentile pig stink. He draws near to the home and hears something unfamiliar — music and dancing. It’s a party.

Now, I’m assuming that the older brother isn’t naturally opposed to parties. It’s just important that the party be done properly  and for the right people. Jesus has already said that these religious leaders are totally cool with being the center of parties and the honored guests. One has to wonder if the older brother, much like Haman, is assuming that the party is going to be in his honor.

When he gets closer to the home, he sees his father grinning from ear to ear. He can’t breathe, from the running and from the excitement. Your…brother…has…*tears start to well up*…come back…home. When he says “home” it’s accompanied by a huge sigh of relief, as if years of anguish has been lifted from him. The lost has been found!!

The father goes in for a celebratory hug with his older son, but is met with coldness. He cannot rejoice. He’s offended. That hug, that return of the brother is costly. Think about this for just a moment. What does accepting the brother back mean? What does it mean for him to now be treated as a son instead of a servant? An inheritance would have been split up into thirds if you had two sons. The older son gets 2 shares and the younger son gets 1 share. Let’s say that the papa in the story has $1200. That means big brother gets $800 and little brother gets $400.

‌Dad cashes out and the little brother squanders his $400. Now the family only has $800 left for the inheritance. That’s fine for the older brother. His younger brother can be stupid and suffer the consequences of his rebellion. But if he’s now accepted back into the family that $800 is now divided into thirds again. Your $800 is now only $533. You pay the consequence for his sin. And that isn’t right, you’d protest.

He refuses to go to the party. And that is a big part of Jesus’ point. The scribes and Pharisees are in danger of shutting themselves out of the kingdom. The father entreats the older brother to come and party — to celebrate grace. The older brother doesn’t budge. He continues his protest. He wants to know why the father hasn’t celebrated his obedience. He hasn’t received a young goat, hasn’t gotten the party, hasn’t been celebrated. But the one who has harmed the family by squandering finances and spending it on prostitutes is now celebrated?!

The father’s response takes us back to the first two verses of Luke 15. It’s fitting to celebrate when what was lost is found. Heaven rejoices when the lost are found. Is grace going to make you angry? Are you going to forfeit your own grace because you cannot bear this for your brother? That’s one of the main questions that hangs over this passage.

But there is another question, and it’s the one I think we often miss.

The Thing about the Story We Often Miss

There are many common threads within the three parables. But there is one big difference. A sheep is lost and the shepherd goes out to find it. He finds it and brings it back. The coin is lost and the lady searches for it. She finds it and calls every one in to celebrate. The prodigal son leaves…he is lost…

And nobody goes after him.

Tim Keller brings out this point in his book, The Prodigal God. He says,

“By the time we get to the third story, and we hear about the plight of the lost son, we are fully prepared to expect that someone will set out to search for him. No one does. It is startling, and Jesus meant it to be so. By placing the three parables so closely together, he is inviting thoughtful listeners to ask: ‘Well, who should have gone out and searched for the lost son?’”

‌The older brother should have been the searcher. And I think that is also a point which Jesus is making to the religious leaders. A story is told of Martin Niemoller, a Lutheran pastor who was imprisoned in Nazi Germany. On one occasion a prison chaplain came and asked Niemoller why he was in prison. To this, he responded, “And, brother, why are you not in prison?”

Jesus is saying something similar to this parable. They are condemning him for eating with sinners and tax collectors and Jesus is saying, “why are you not?” Why are you not going to reach them? Why are you avoiding the prodigals, angrily working in the field thinking that somehow this will merit favor. Go into a different field! There the harvest is plentiful but the workers are few.

They are too busy “obeying” to actually obey. ‌

The Heart of Jesus

Thankfully, Jesus is faithful where we are not. We’re far too much like Jonah — angry at God’s grace. Working out in a safe field to somehow prove our dedication, while refusing to do that which is truly on the Father’s heart. Or we are, like Jonah, sitting on the nearby hill watching and waiting for destruction. This parable calls us into the joy of the Father – joy over seeing the lost to be found. That is the heart of Jesus. Are we joining Him in the place where His heart is?

Jesus, by the way, did play the role of the elder brother. But He does what the older brother should have done. He is faithful to the heart of the Father. And it’s because of this that any of us have redemption. He bore in his body the cost of our rebellion. He paid the price. And he didn’t do it with anger but with joy. He gets excited at seeing the Father’s hug of prodigals. And the Godhead shares in that hug of redemption. None of the Trinity is cold or callous at the thought of bearing the price for redeeming prodigals like you and I.

Photo credit: Pexels/Ethan Jones