The Third Discourseman
Once again, a bold title. The father I am talking about is not God the Father (whose love is almost certainly more surprising than you think), but the love of the father in Luke 15 (which I suggest you read now, and then have open in front of you if you want to make the most of this blog) and the parable of the prodigal son.
‘But hold on’ I hear you object, ‘Isn’t the father in Luke 15 supposed to represent God the Father? Surely not even the Third Discourseman could be so bold as to suggest otherwise? Surely he hasn’t devised some new interpretation that’ll blow our thinking on one of Christendom’s most beloved parables wide open?’
You’d be correct- I am not so bold. I think it is indisputable that the father in Luke 15 represents God. However I am mildly bold- bold enough to suggest that the dear position this parable holds within so many of our eyes, the power with which it has spoken to so many about God’s love for all who repent, its cherished place as one of Jesus’ most well-known stories, has created a slight sentimental fog which, without doing much damage to our understanding of the passage, does nonetheless obscure the text from being understood most naturally. I may upset some. I hope I don’t at any point undermine any sense of comfort you’ve drawn from Luke 15 in the past. As a parable, it offers considerable comfort to wayward sinners. I also hope I might get you to understand that comfort in the way Jesus intended.
The first thing to note is that the prodigal son stands as the climactic parable of a series of parables running through the whole of Luke 15. And the parables have some very obvious similarities. Verses 1 and 2 give the set up- the important features to note are a) a dual audience of Pharisees and tax collectors/sinners b) that Jesus allows the tax collectors and sinners to draw near to him c) this causes the Pharisees to grumble.
The next important thing to note is verse 3- ‘So he told them this parable:’ If you read verse 2, it’s clear who the ‘them’ are- it’s the Pharisees. These parables are told mainly to the Pharisees, though of course the tax collectors and sinners can listen in. And the ‘so’ indicates that Jesus is telling these parables in response to the situation in front of him- to the sinners coming to him and the Pharisees grumbling about this.
Then verses 4-7 and 8-10 give two parables, each presenting a very similar situation: a man with lots of sheep (100) loses one, goes to find it, and has a party once it’s found. A woman with some coins (10) loses one, goes to find it, and has a party once it’s found. Each parable is concluded with the same lesson to draw- there’s joy in heaven when one sinner repents, indeed more joy over one repentant sinner than 99 righteous who need no repentance.
Then finally we get the more extended parable of the prodigal son: a man with two sons loses one, has a party once he comes back. This time there’s no explanation. There’s also an extra act to the story- the other brother is not happy when his wayward brother is welcomed with such joy upon his return. He sulks outside the party. The parable ends on him being left outside the party, with the father pleading and reasoning with him to rejoice and join the fun.
These differences are significant, and we’ll get to explaining them. But first note the logic Jesus uses in the first two parables. ‘What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave…and go after the one that is lost, until he finds it?’ There’s a popular Christian song, Reckless Love, which I detest. One of the reasons I do is that it clearly references this parable as it sings of God’s ‘reckless love’ that ‘leaves the 99’. Yet Jesus clearly doesn’t think this is reckless shepherding. He thinks that this is obviously what any one of his audience members would do, if they happened to be a shepherd with 100 sheep. ‘What man of you…does not…?’- the implied answer to this rhetorical question is obvious. Of course he hunts it down!
This is even more clear in the second. Again the implied answer to the question ‘what woman, having ten silver coins, if she loses one coin, does not…seek diligently until she finds it?’ is that of course anyone would look for the lost coin. This may come as a surprise to some, but the natural response when a relatively poor woman in a society with cash, not online banking, physically loses 10% of all she has to live on is not to shrug and go, ‘Oh well’. It is in fact to look for the money she has lost.
Whatever we may have previously imagined, we are not supposed to think of a heroic, muscle bound, bold and brash shepherd fighting lions, climbing mountains, putting the other 99 sheep in danger, just to find the one that’s lost. Nor are we to think of an obsessive woman in a mad panic over something small and seemingly irrelevant to almost anyone else. It seems that, at least in the first two parables, there’s nothing at all surprising intended in the main characters’ reactions to their loss and subsequent regain. Jesus presupposes that we’d all do the same in their shoes.
Which makes the argument Jesus is making incredibly simple. ‘Just like this, there’s joy in heaven over one sinner who repents. And should there not be? What was lost is found! It’s completely natural to celebrate over a sheep or a coin. So why not over a repentant sinner?’
This carries over to the final parable, which stands as climactic by being the last, the longest, and the only one without an explanatory comment from Jesus. The parable is similar enough to the previous two that we get how it works- the two sons are like the 10 coins or 100 sheep. The one who goes away is like the coin/sheep that is lost. Him returning is like the coin/sheep being found. As with the others there is a celebration. So the wayward son is the sinner who repents, the father and his guests are God and the angels in heaven celebrating when he does so.
And I think that the father’s response is unsurprising. We know this from experience- fathers are supposed to love their sons. We regularly see, both in films and in real life, parents who sacrifice themselves for their kids. Or parents who have to witness the death of a child and cry out, ‘Why not me instead?’. Of course such love is incredibly strong, but we don’t view it as surprising or unusual. Of course, there are, sadly, many families where parental love of such a kind is absent. We’re right to view that as being wrong, not just the status quo.
If you think this is a modern, sentimental view of fatherhood, I think a good place to go would be the story of David and Absalom in 2 Samuel. Absalom is objectively a worse son than even the son in this parable- he rebels against his father, claims kingship and chases his father, the true king, out of the palace and the capital. And when he dies, David is distraught. Or Matthew 6:7-11. Jesus assumes that fathers know how to give good gifts. In fact, whenever we claim that the Bible calling God ‘our Father’ is an amazing thing, we are implicitly assuming that first century authors thought that fathers in general should and do love their children. The fact that almighty God is our Father is very surprising. But, given that he is, the fact that our heavenly Father loves us is not. Loving is what good fathers do.
So as with the first two parables, there’s nothing especially unusual or unexpected in the father’s response to what was lost being found. Which serves to drive home all the more the actual point of the parable. The surprise in the third parable is not how the father responds, but how it ends. If we were to extrapolate our own ending based off of the first two parables, we’d end the story at verse 24, and finish it off with a word from Jesus- ‘Just so, I tell you, there is joy in heaven…’. The surprise is that Jesus keeps going. The difference adds weight and punch to the ending. In this story, the other 99 sheep, the other 9 coins, the other brother, get a say.
And it’s a bitter picture. He realises the party that’s going on is for his wayward brother, and he’s angry. He strops outside the house and refuses to join in.
The father comes out to reason with him. ‘It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found.’ If we needed any more convincing, the father himself says his response is fitting. Not, ‘You just have to get used to the fact that I’m a crazy man who does crazy things.’ Not, ‘Yeah I know I should really hate your brother now, but I’m just such a great guy so I’ll spare him.’ But, ‘It was fitting to celebrate and be glad’. ‘Of course I’m happy!’ says the father. ‘My son that I thought I’d lost, who was dead to me, has returned! It is entirely appropriate for me as father to respond this way.’
Purpose…
…for the Pharisees
Which makes the argument Jesus is making incredibly simple, and incredibly poignant to the grumbling Pharisees. ‘Just like this, there’s joy in heaven over one sinner who repents. And should there not be? What was lost is found! It’s completely natural to celebrate, even over a sheep or a coin. So why not over a repentant sinner? Why shouldn’t God the Father celebrate when a son returns to him? And if God is celebrating, why are you grumbling? Are you going to shut yourself out of God’s house because of this?’.
It all hinges on showing the Pharisees that they’re being ridiculous and petty. The logic falls apart if each of the celebrations is actually a wild, unexpected, non-sequitur addition to the parable that no reasonable person would anticipate. Because then the Pharisees would be reasonable in their grumbling, and Jesus does nothing to persuade them otherwise. But the logic does not fall apart. The parables show up the Pharisees as being ridiculous. So Jesus’ purpose for them- beware your grumbling! Don’t be ridiculous! Do you not realise that all heaven is celebrating over these repentant sinners? Don’t, in your grumbling at their inclusion, end up excluding yourself from the celebration.
…for the sinners
But there is a dual audience- the tax collectors and sinners are there overhearing. Presumably this would give them great confidence that God does indeed welcome repentant sinners with open arms. That they are not received as awkward additions to the kingdom but as guests of honour, whose arrival is celebrated by all heaven. It would give confidence especially in the presence of grumbling cynics and supposed religious leaders questioning their place in the kingdom, that the grumblers are the ones who are responding wrongly to Jesus’ coming.
…for Theophilus?
Which is all to give Theophilus certainty. You can see why he might be uncertain- the Messiah has come, and yet the Jewish authorities, the rich and well-to-do, rejected him. Those who were attracted to him were sinners, reprobates, the lowly and unimpressive. Perhaps he himself is tempted to look down on some of them.
But God is calling sinful humanity to repent. Begging his creatures to return to him. Dragging them from death to life. Jesus came to seek and save the lost. And so when the lost are found, when the formerly dead-to-him live, when wayward creatures return to their creator with their tail between their legs and a grovelling prayer at the ready, God does not tut knowingly. He does not grumble self-righteously. He parties. Why shouldn’t he? His children are returning home!
So, Theophilus, you can be sure. Sure that this gospel of forgiveness for repentant sinners is something God is behind. Something he celebrates. So get on board! Repent and be forgiven! Celebrate! And beware when celebration turns to grumbling against those that have repented lest you, like many of the Pharisees, end up outside the celebration for good. That is a foolish place to be, to pit yourself against the agenda of God and his kingdom. To put yourself outside the party in heaven.
The Four Discoursemen 