The Prodigal Son and Father...

The parable of the prodigal son is perhaps the best-known and best-loved of all Jesus' parables. It is also best at generating seemingly infinite numbers of interpretations, understandings and themes. Start with the way we usually refer to the Luke 15:11-32 text: "The Prodigal Son." True, the behavior of the younger son plays a central role in this parable. But others have noted that an equally precise title for this tale might be "The Waiting Father," or "Joy and Repentance," or even "The Parable of the Elder Brother."

The body of this lengthy parable contains numerous fascinating nuances that testify to Luke's storytelling prowess and finesse. A brief overview can catch only a few of the author's juicy tidbits. Note how Luke uses Hellenistic images and information to add realism to the story. He uses Greek legal language to describe the younger son's demand to his father that he "give me the share of the property that will belong to me" (v.12). Yet despite the legalese (or perhaps because of it), scholars still wrangle over what exactly was due to a son who would make such a demand, and what legal and moral responsibilities would remain between this father and son once this division of property was made. Whatever the cultural standards or legal implications associated with early inheritance, it is evident that the younger son cast them aside. In verse 13, he "gathered all he had" -- that is, he converted his inheritance to cash -- and left home, family and any obligations far behind.

The roots of our term "prodigal" come from the Latin "prodigere" -- meaning to "drive forth or away" or to "waste." It can be interpreted as either extravagant wastefulness or liberal generosity. So while Luke himself does not call the younger son a "prodigal," the term certainly suits the actions this young man took when he "squandered his property." The son's rapid fall is made as complete and catastrophic as possible. Luke's language here is coarse and colloquial (some scholars profess to be able to see signs of a hasty scribal attempt to clean it up) when he describes how the son would have loved to eat the disgusting food he was giving to the pigs. Working for a Gentile and playing servant to swine was the bottom of all possible Jewish barrels.

In verse 17, Luke's phrasing of how the young man "came to himself" is one of the few Semiticisms in this parable. It literally means "to repent." The father's impetuous forgiveness of the approaching son in verse 20 may appear to offer the boy forgiveness without repentance. But the son had already privately voiced his change of heart and mind. All said, however, the father's welcome and forgiveness (the embrace and the kiss) occur prior to the son's confession. Even more telling is the fact that the earlier Masoretic text has the father cut the son's "confession" off midway, as he excitedly calls his servants to tend to the young man.

The elder son's anger is instant. The confrontational tone he takes with his father is neither respectful nor obedient (vv. 29-30). He even refuses to acknowledge his blood relationship to his brother, identifying him only as "this son of yours" (v. 30).

Like all good parables, the prodigal son story cannot be contained by just one explanation. The narrative takes its meaning and strength from the fact that it IS a parable, a story, and as such invites others to participate in it. Fittingly, Luke's story closes with a typical parabolic ending -- which is to say "no ending." We leave the confrontation scene between father and son before hearing the son's response. It is the reader, therefore, who must provide the final reply to the father's invitation to rejoice and join the party.