Most people who have attended church for awhile know the story of the prodigal son, but not everyone catches the parable’s point in context. The religious people of Jesus’ day criticized him spending time with sinners (Lk 15:1-2), so Jesus responded by telling three stories: about a shepherd, a woman, and a merciful father. Most people looked down on shepherds as low-class, and courts often rejected their testimony, as well as that of women. (That God chose shepherds as witnesses of Jesus’ birth and women as witnesses of his resurrection reveals that God’s values differ from people’s.)
Thus Jesus tells the story of the lost sheep (one of a hundred), the lost coin (one of ten), the lost son (one of two)—and then of the other lost son.
First, Jesus told of a shepherd who left his 99 sheep to look for the one that was lost. (Because shepherds and others herders watched over their flocks together [see Luke 2:8], he would have left the 99 safe with these other watchmen.) When he found the lost sheep, he called his friends together and they rejoiced. Jesus explains that in the same way, when God finds those who had been lost to him, heaven rejoices. God’s “friends” rejoice when the lost is found, yet the religious people were complaining about Jesus reaching the lost. Maybe the religious people, therefore, were not really God’s friends.
Second, Jesus told of a woman who lost one of her ten coins. This was a pitifully small amount of money to most of Jesus’ hearers, but was much for the woman. Poor Galilean homes had floors of loosely-fitted stones; so often did coins get lost between the stones that archaeologists today can sometimes date the homes’ last habitation based on the coins in the floors! These homes had little lighting, so she lights the small kind of lamp that would fit in one’s hand, and sweeps with a broom, hoping to hear it. When she finds the coin, all her friends rejoice with her; in the same way, God’s friends rejoice with him when he rescues the lost person. But many religious people did not care about what mattered to God; they cared about their view of social propriety!
Third, Jesus told of a father who lost one son. The younger son demanded his share of the inheritance (one-third). Demanding one’s inheritance was equivalent to saying, “Father, I wish you were dead!” Yet the father mercifully does the unthinkable: he divides his hard-earned inheritance. Many hearers would have despised the father’s indulgence. The son then squanders the inheritance, behavior that all ancient moralists derided.
The now-destitute son is reduced to feeding pigs—hence a state of uncleanness so he would not even seek help from a synagogue. Hearers might expect the story to end here—the wicked son receives his just desserts for his crimes! Yet this son realizes that things were better off for servants in the father’s house, and returns, seeking to be a servant.
It was considered undignified for older men to run, yet when the father sees him, he runs and embraces him. His son mattered more than dignity! The son volunteered to be a servant, but the father indirectly rejects this request. He orders the best robe in the house—undoubtedly the father’s; a ring—undoubtedly a family signet ring, thus indicating the son’s reinstatement to sonship; and sandals—though poor workers, in contrast to this household’s sons, often wore no sandals. “No,” the father is saying; “I won’t receive you as a servant. I will only receive you as my son.”
Then the father orders a celebration, including the fatted calf (enough food to feed the entire village). So far the story has ended like the others: when the lost is found, there is celebration. But now Jesus turns to the final story: the story of the other lost son.
The older brother is so angry with the father’s mercy that he publicly refuses to enter the house or greet his father with a title. To publicize an intrafamily dispute in front of the villagers gathered for the celebration dishonored the father even more publicly than his younger brother had done! Elder brothers might normally reconcile estranged fathers and younger brothers, but not this son. “This son of yours,” he calls his brother. “This brother of yours,” the father pleads.
“I never even received a baby goat,” the brother protests, “but you killed the fattened calf for a party for him!” Yet the inheritance was divided, so the elder brother’s two-thirds had already been allotted to him (15:12, 31); he had nothing to lose financially, unless he chose to share with his brother. He simply acted from spite.
“It is not fair,” the older brother protests. “I served you all these years.” Notice the elder son’s basis for argument: not a son’s relationship with the father, but a servant’s relationship with a master. The elder son does not know his father’s heart. He is lost in the father’s house. Essentially, he complains, “You showed him mercy, but I am good enough that I do not need mercy.”
There are church people today who resent evangelism, missions, social concern and other forms of outreach. After all, they may feel that they have never needed any outreach to themselves. Perhaps a newcomer might take their favorite pew. There are those who look down on new believers, or believers from less socially “dignified” backgrounds than their own.
Jesus ends the parable with the father’s plea to enter, a welcome invitation to the elder brothers today who remain lost in the father’s house.
This article is adapted from an article Craig wrote for the Missionary Seer in 2006, and follows insights by Kenneth Bailey, Joachim Jeremias and other scholars.