Being a professor, one of the things that I am privileged to do is to spend immense amounts of time studying the Bible. From time to time, however, an interesting thing happens to me. I find myself changing my perception of some character in the text from what I thought when I first met him. Unfortunately, I must admit, most of them are evil characters. Now, don’t get me wrong, when I first met them I thought of them as evil, and when I finished with them, I still thought of them as evil, in fact, maybe more so.
Now you might ask, “so what changed?” Well . . . I understood them better. But that’s not all. The reason I understood this evil character better was I realized that his thinking wasn’t as strange as I had thought. In fact, sadly, it began to bear great similarity to the way I reasoned. He was . . . starting to make sense.
Now you may also feel that these characters are evil, and that you are not at all like them . . .
Well . . . “Not so fast, Elwood!”
After years of studying the literary context of “The Lost Son” in Luke 15:11-32, I have just uploaded the manuscript onto the website (you can find it under the “Commentaries” division, “Luke” section). Studying the beauty of the Biblical Story and its amazing tapestry is continually rewarding. I always learn a little bit more about God and my Savior that always amazes me. Particularly remarkable is this story of “The Lost Son” and how the reader gets to sit at Jesus’s feet and hear Him retell the beautiful symphony of the Biblical Story in only 22 verses. It’s actually the story of God’s Lost Son, Israel from the Old Testament, retold by Jesus. But I’ll leave that for you to read.
The story is of a younger son who departed from his father, took his father’s wealth, and spent it on riotous living. Finally, after finding himself without friends, despised by those he thought would embrace him, starving and dirty, he decided to return to his father. He had come to the point where he had nothing to lose since he had “lost” it all. He reasoned that even the lowest hired servant in his father’s household was better off than he. He was, to say the least, literally a “loser,” both in his sight, and in anyone else’s.
So he came back. (And one of my favorite parts is) when he showed up as a dot on the horizon, his father spotted him. You see . . . the father had not quit scanning the skyline since the day his boy had left. And now this son was clearly on his way back, and that was all that the father needed to begin his move. Grasping the hope that his lad was “returning” for the father’s mercy, the father moved to close the distance quickly. Leaving his socially-admired poise behind, the father ran. He grasped his son once more, kissing and hugging his dirty bony frame, still caked with the residue of manure left over from his last residence. The son, who would have been massively surprised at the father’s behavior, managed to cough up only the first part of his rehearsed speech, “I am no longer worthy . . .”
That . . . was exactly what the father wanted to hear. The father’s character was such that he had to respond to this whimpering, choking, cry for help. One might say (with great respect) that he just couldn’t help himself. It was the way this father was. No sooner does this reprobate son mumble those prepared first words than the father interrupts him, telling his servants to quickly prepare the great feast, get him a change of clothes, etc., etc.
Now, I often relate to the lost son, tired of the constant pull of the world’s desires. I often hear the old hymn playing in my mind, “Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it . . . prone to leave the God I love.” I cry out for the Father’s mercy . . . “help me!” And He does.
And then I, like the Lost Son, imagine waking up the next morning looking out the window at the Father’s estate, in a clean bedroom, servants ready to aid me, the smell of fresh coffee in the air, breakfast cooking . . . and most of all . . . the Father . . . what a Father! How is it possible that He could be like this? No Father would take someone like me . . . one who rebelled against Him, squandered his possessions, trashed his reputation . . . and then celebrate just because I return . . . unworthy? There is no one like this Father!
So, it seems to me that, lying there enjoying the early morning sunrise, this son would think to himself how he could keep this celebration going? It was obvious! He would stay in the Father’s house, and from there he would again ask for mercy. In fact, he would declare his unworthiness and ask for mercy every day.
And not only that, the next day he might meet his friends and tell them his story . . . of his being lost, and returning, and the father’s mercy. And his friends might realize that they also didn’t deserve to be in any celebration either . . . and so they would decide to go and ask his father for mercy . . . and sure enough, amazingly, the father would invite them in as well . . . because He loved it when those without hope . . . “returned.”
And they would all sit there and feast . . . the biggest bunch of returned “losers” you have ever seen . . . at the big table, feasting on the fattened calf . . . celebrating on and on into the night with this father. They had one thing in common . . . they had been beneficiaries of the father’s love of giving mercy. And as they feasted they would have one thought in their mind . . . and it wouldn’t be how good they were . . . but how they didn’t deserve to be there . . . and how amazingly merciful this father was to any and all the hopeless who came home.
But . . . in order to understand the father in the story it is necessary to take a look at this elder son and his complaint. Now this elder son is clearly evil, a clear literary contrast to the younger son. And . . . I know what you’re thinking . . . you think you are nothing like the elder son . . .
Not so fast, Elwood!
Now put yourself in the elder son’s situation. His younger brother had . . . spent the father’s inheritance, all of it! And he didn’t spend it on good investments that just didn’t work out . . . he spent it on harlots and loose living! And that portion of the father’s money was gone! This material wealth was this younger son’s identity from the father, and it was never coming back! He was . . . by every measurement that the elder son knew . . . a “loser.” So, as he sees it, his worthless brother shows up in the father’s vision, and this waster of the father’s possessions, not to mention that his whole life with harlots and strangers mocked the father, is . . . given a celebration?? Shouldn’t he have to work off the debt? Doesn’t he know the value of money? Doesn’t he know that achievement was his identity . . . that one’s accomplishments glorify the father? Shouldn’t he be taught how to value what is given to him?
You see, Elwood . . .the elder son is making more sense all the time.
Now the elder son certainly knew the value of what the father had given him monetarily. The elder son had worked in the field. He had received his portion of the inheritance at the same time as his brother, and he had not spent it. He had worked to gain more, and in doing so, he felt he had honored the desires of the father. And not only that, he had never mocked the father by leaving him for harlots and strangers. He had been with the father all the time. He had accomplished and achieved a lot. He was a “good boy.” Shouldn’t the father gain great glory and pride from this son’s ambition, accomplishments and goodness?
And the father, sitting there with great patience, would lean forward and, in effect, say, “But . . . I really don’t care about any of that. I don’t care about your accomplishments, your big dreams, your big successes, not even your goodness.”
“I care about only one thing. I want you to . . . come home . . .I want to give you mercy . . . I want you to “return” to me . . . That is what I care about!”
You see, and this is a big point, we (that includes Elwood) do not understand a Father like this. We do care about what you make of yourself. We care whether you are a successful doctor, professor, father, husband, congressman, sports figure . . . anything that we can be proud of . . . in the world . . . in church . . . and we complement you on your achievements, your ambition . . . in church! We tell you in sermons to “dream big!” . . . in church! We tell you that you should thank God that you are not like other people: swindlers, unjust, adulterers . . . (note: this is, surprisingly, the prayer of a Pharisee in Luke 18:11-12) . . . in church. When people get saved they (and the church) immediately start to measure their own good works and compare themselves to the accomplishments of other Christians. We say to God, “see how I’ve glorified You. Aren’t You proud of me?” But then you hear the words of that father in the story whisper in your ear, “I just don’t care about any of that . . . just come home . . . return . . .”
Do you see what I’m saying, Elwood? This Father is unlike anyone you’ve ever known. He just wants to give . . . to the unworthy . . . who return. He doesn’t care about our worthiness, our stuff, our esteem. He is the only one who is worthy and he wants to give to us, if we will only “return.”
The elder son missed this father’s heart. This Father is looking across the horizon, waiting to pursue you and me . . . And one day in the far future, as I’m sitting at the real life feast, at the table in the great wedding supper of the Lamb (the Kingdom on earth, Revelation 19:9), along with the biggest bunch of returned “losers” (i.e., lost sinners returned) that you have ever seen (looking great, by the way, in resurrected bodies, dressed in fine linen that represents the “worthy” righteousness of Christ) . . . who just don’t deserve to be there . . . I’ll be pondering how amazingly wonderful this Father is.
There’s an old hymn that often passes through this old brain . . . it’s not just for salvation . . . but for every day.
Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling,
Calling for you and for me;
See, on the portals He’s waiting and watching,
Watching for you and for me.
Come home, come home,
You who are weary, come home;
Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,
Calling, O sinner, come home!
“Come on . . . let’s go in, Elwood. The Father is begging us to come in and celebrate with Him and His friends . . . . come home . . . “return”
“I am not worthy . . .”
Credits:
Written by: Dr. Charles P. Baylis, July 9, 2015
Painting Credit: “The Return of the Prodigal Son,” Rembrandt Van Rijn, 1661-1669
Note: “El-wood,” is the name intentionally alluding to the el-der son (and as applicable…us).
[Refer to “The Lost Son, An Old Testament Story Retold,” under the “Commentary” Section, “Luke” Division]
Hymn: “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing,” Robert Robinson, 1777
Hymn: “Softly and Tenderly,” Will Lamertine Thompson, 1888