The Prodigal and His Brother

The Prodigal and His Brother

A Meditation

Luke 15.11-32 (The Voice)

Once there was this man who had two sons. One day the younger son came to his father and said, “Father, eventually I’m going to inherit my share of your estate. Rather than waiting until you die, I want you to give me my share now.” And so the father liquidated assets and divided them. A few days passed and this younger son gathered all his wealth and set off on a journey to a distant land. Once there he wasted everything he owned on wild living. He was broke, a terrible famine struck that land, and he felt desperately hungry and in need. He got a job with one of the locals, who sent him into the fields to feed the pigs. The young man felt so miserably hungry that he wished he could eat the slop the pigs were eating. Nobody gave him anything.

So he had this moment of self-reflection: “What am I doing here? Back home, my father’s hired servants have plenty of food. Why am I here starving to death? I’ll get up and return to my father, and I’ll say, ‘Father, I have done wrong—wrong against God and against you. I have forfeited any right to be treated like your son, but I’m wondering if you’d treat me as one of your hired servants?’” So he got up and returned to his father. The father looked off in the distance and saw the young man returning. He felt compassion for his son and ran out to him, enfolded him in an embrace, and kissed him.

The son said, “Father, I have done a terrible wrong in God’s sight and in your sight too. I have forfeited any right to be treated as your son.”

But the father turned to his servants and said, “Quick! Bring the best robe we have and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and shoes on his feet. Go get the fattest calf and butcher it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate because my son was dead and is alive again. He was lost and has been found.” So they had this huge party.

Now the man’s older son was still out in the fields working. He came home at the end of the day and heard music and dancing. He called one of the servants and asked what was going on. The servant said, “Your brother has returned, and your father has butchered the fattest calf to celebrate his safe return.”

The older brother got really angry and refused to come inside, so his father came out and pleaded with him to join the celebration. But he argued back, “Listen, all these years I’ve worked hard for you. I’ve never disobeyed one of your orders. But how many times have you even given me a little goat to roast for a party with my friends? Not once! This is not fair! So this son of yours comes, this wasteful delinquent who has spent your hard-earned wealth on loose women, and what do you do? You butcher the fattest calf from our herd!”

The father replied, “My son, you are always with me, and all I have is yours. Isn’t it right to join in the celebration and be happy? This is your brother we’re talking about. He was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found again!”

In my perspective, this parable, The Prodigal and His Brother, bears a resemblance to the parable of the lost sheep. These two parables are surely among the elite bunched at the top of Jesus’ parables both in acquaintance and popularity, perhaps only surpassed by the parable the Good Samaritan. There is a resemblance between the two sons and the lost sheep that binds them together in another way. They both represent the relation of the older brother/99 sheep to the compassionate action of the father/shepherd toward the prodigal/lost sheep. But their similarity ends there.

In the Lost Sheep, the 99 aren’t abandoned by the shepherd. They simply represent the entire flock valued by God in relation to the one lost sheep that is valued as highly as the faithful majority. Hence, we don’t feel conflict in this parable. It is simply Good News shared by all in unreserved celebration.

In stark contrast, the parable of the two brothers is rife with conflict. The compassion shown by the father to the prodigal is taken as an affront to the older brother, who ultimately has a decision to make. The 99 appear almost like a stage prop in the hyperbole of the lost sheep, whereas the older brother is a central character in the two brothers. And we must choose between the two and identify with one or the other; the humility of the prodigal or the stubborn resistance of the older brother.

The father offers grace to the older brother and tries repeatedly to convince him to accept it and join the celebration. But he continues to feel abandoned, even betrayed by his father, and remains stubborn. He never received such a celebration with his friends despite his loyalty to his father. No fatted calf for him; fat chance. In fact, his loyalty seems to be discounted altogether. He can’t bring himself to accept what he sees as secondhand grace. For him it is all or nothing.

The consequence of all this is represented by a lack of closure to the parable. We don’t know what the older brother ultimately decides, but grace is offered in any case. Just what will he decide? Otherwise stated, what will we decide?

Let’s start with a prior question, the one referenced above, with whom we identify. I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone who identifies with the older brother. Besides being suborn and somewhat selfish, his life on the family farm is, in a word, boring. He is obedient and loyal to his father and has never balked at a work order from him. He’s never partied hard or caroused with loose women. I doubt that the older brother considered himself in need of compassion and grace. His work spoke for itself. But does his work belie the need for compassion? That is his question. Just what will bring him into the good grace of his father? Should he give in, forgive his prodigal brother, and join the celebration? At the parable’s end he had not made up his mind.

Most of us, I assume, admit to some affinity with the prodigal. If nothing else, his life was exciting. He chose decadence and made the most of it. But carousing comes at a cost. He soon went through his inheritance and found himself destitute. He slopped the pigs but got none of the slop for himself. In contrast to all this his repentance was genuine. He knew that his father owed him nothing and he would be satisfied to work as a hired hand on the family farm. He was both surprised and befuddled by the gracious reception he received from his father. But his sense of guilt didn’t stop him from celebrating. He had been lost but was now found.

Now, it’s our turn. I’m not sure it’s the prodigal’s humility that we find appealing. Most of us are attracted to his lifestyle; at least for a while. What could be better than sowing wild oats and then being received back into the fold with compassion, given a ring, clothing, and shoes… not to mention the fatted calf. But to identify with the prodigal means at some point we must give up our wild ways and return to the father in humility, and a real sense of regret. It’s hard, I think you will agree, to make that choice.

If we are honest, the lifestyle of the older brother is more likely to be our choice. There is comfort in a life of works that speaks for itself. And there is a certain pride in the accomplishment of such a body off work, and justification for looking down on others in judgment. We may be bored but we still stand on firm ground.

That’s a lot of if, ands, and buts crammed into one simple parable. But if it is to reach a sense of closure, we must provide it with our choice.