The Turning Point
Biblical Studies
Rebellion, Remorse, and Return
The Prodigal Son's Painful Journey Home
Commentary
There is no doubt that the prodigal is at the end of his tether. As a Jew he has disgraced himself by becoming a swine herder. The plan that he devises seems to lack grace resulting from his genuine desire to repent. In his plan he intends to work and thereby fulfill his responsibility to his father. His request to be a hired servant is on his terms. He is telling his father what to do and orders his father to do it. If he is a servant standing before his master, then his plan is adequate. But since he is a son standing before a compassionate father, his plan is inadequate. At this point he has no idea that the restoration of this broken relationship will only result from his willingness to throw himself on the mercy of his father's grace. What he is really doing is seeking to soften his father's heart and then to offer his solution to the problem. Capon suggests that he is hoping "the old man is senile enough to make a deal" (The Parables of Grace, p.138). Regardless how one looks at it, his solution does not involve grace.
There is a repentance, but it is a self-serving repentance that offers the possibility of survival on the son's terms. Nouwen states:
I know this state of mind and heart well. It is like saying, "Well, I couldn't make it on my own, I have to acknowledge that God is the only resource left for me. I will go to God and ask for forgiveness in the hope that I will receive the minimal punishment and be allowed to survive on the condition of hard labor." God remains harsh and judgmental. Submission to this kind of God does not create true inner freedom, but breeds only bitterness and resentment.
-- The Return of the Prodigal, p. 46
I am well aware that there are several factors that call into question the nature of the son's repentance. He has lost his sonship, his inheritance, and he has abrogated his Judaism, his religion. Because of his actions, what belonged to the family and in a sense to the community now belongs to foreigners. His statement, "make me one of your hired servants," suggests that his relationship with his father is dead as far as a son is concerned. The reclaiming of sonship seems to be out of the question for him because of the gravity of his sin against his father. Capon suggests that he has, by his prodigality, lost all claim to his former status as his father's loyal child. By the proposition that he wants to present to his father he is seeking to carve out a new life for himself (p. 138).
He works on his speech because he is not sure how his father will receive him. He has some very practical needs, such as food and money, and feeling that he has lost his sonship forever, he wants to negotiate to see if he can be a hired servant. After forfeiting his sonship, he will plead with his father to put him on the payroll. Oesterley points out that there are three levels of servanthood on the first-century Jewish estate (The Gospel Parables in Light of Their Jewish Background, p. 186). The bondsman (paides) was at the top of the staff of servants. He was a slave with servile status, yet he was regarded as part of the master's family and had a special interest in the affairs of the family. The bondservant (douloi) was one step lower than the bondsman. The lowest category was the servants (misthioi). They were neither part of the family nor did they have any interest in the affairs of the family. They were employed when there was work to be done and could be dismissed at the pleasure of the master. Although a free man, the servant had no rights or security. In essence, the prodigal was requesting that his father give him the lowest position of all -- anything to be home. Granted that the envisioned return will only put him on the periphery of the family; nonetheless, it will reconnect him with the family's social network. Even though he is not in the full membership of the family, he will be in a social location in which he will know how to perform and will no longer be an outsider without acquaintance and food. Under the circumstances, that is enough to provide him with a sense of hope.
As a hired servant, he would be a free man with his own income living independently in the local village. This plan would make it possible for him to maintain his pride and his independence. As a hired servant, his thoughts may have been that he could work and fulfill his moral responsibility to his father. By paying back the squandered money, he hoped to make up his losses to his father, and thus earn his way back. Also, if he is a hired servant living off the premises, then he will not be eating his brother's bread (Bailey, p. 177). He knows now that everything left in the estate will be signed over to his brother, and by not living at home he will not have to reconcile with his brother. With all of these elaborate plans in place, he begins his journey home, but little did he know about the grace that waited him on his return.
Reflections
The prodigal now begins to compare his lot with that of his father's day laborers, to whom their kind master gives more bread than they can eat. Things do not stop there. Reality begins to settle in. He realizes how he has sinned against heaven and his father by his licentious life. He realizes that his sin against his father is of such magnitude that he is no longer worthy to be treated like his father's son.
After the prophet Isaiah had walked through the crowded city at festival time, watching the people as they hurried from one amusement to another only to come away with tired expressions and empty hearts, he then wrote, "Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and labor for that which does not satisfy?" (Isaiah 55:2). The question has been asked: Was the prodigal searching for adventure in a distant land where he could live without restraint and accountability, or was he searching for relationships and intimacy -- seeking to love and be loved.
The story is told about Karl Valentine, the German comedian, who is standing alone on stage as the curtain goes up. The entire stage is dark except for a solitary circle of light that has been created by the street lamp. Valentine, with a deeply worried look on his face, walks around and around under the light desperately looking for something. A policeman enters the scene and asks, "What are you looking for?" "My house keys," Valentine answers. The policeman joins the search and together they search for the keys. After several moments of searching and finding nothing the policeman asks, "Are you sure you lost them here?" "No!" Valentine answers. Pointing to the darkness he states, "I lost them over there." "Then why on earth are you looking for them over here?" the policeman replied. Valentine's response was, "Because there is no light over there." The prodigal's search for an unconditional love had taken him to a distant land where it could not be found. How many times in our search for happiness do we go to extremes in order to find it? The extremes, such as money, sex, and power, drive us further from both our heart's desire and the father's house. Nouwen has it right when he states, "I am the prodigal son every time I search for unconditional love where it cannot be found. Why do I keep ignoring the place of true love and persist in looking for it elsewhere?" (p. 39).
If the son's search was for love, it could be that his love was marred by jealousy, scarred by envy, and limited by selfishness. But yet the prodigal still may have remembered the love that he had experienced in the father's house. For the prodigal there were those unforgettable moments in the father's house when he experienced forgiveness, generously and freely. He may have remembered those times when he crept home when he was bruised and hurt and was reassured that someone cared. Now, as he is about to creep home once more, he is hoping that forgiveness and acceptance would happen again. Carlo Caretto points out that love makes demands of us. It will question us from within. It will disturb us. Sadden us. Play havoc with our feelings. Reveal our superficialities. We hope, at last it will bring us to the light. We hope it will bring the prodigal sensibility. This verse from Charles Wesley's hymn speaks to his condition:
Come, Lord, and tame the tiger's force,
Arrest the whirlwind in my will,
Turn back the torrent's rapid course,
And bid the headlong sun stand still,
The rock dissolve, the mountain move,
And melt my hatred into love.
Sitting next to the hog trough, he takes a hard look at his life and finds nothing. This comparison allows him to realize how empty his life has become. Now the whole story takes on a different direction in light of the prodigal's self-discovery. Now he acknowledges he has sinned against heaven and his father. What was his sin against his father? His failure to hold himself in readiness to care for his father in his old age. He is now aware that loss of the money had a moral responsibility attached to it. What was his sin against heaven and God? His failure to keep the responsibility that the inheritance required of him. Also he broke one of the most important and revered laws of the Hebrew community -- the fifth commandment.
But the cure for the sickness of his soul was now at hand. Leslie Weatherhead's statement is a valid one, "The forgiveness of sins is the most therapeutic thing in the world" (Psychology, Religion and Healing, p. 334). Repentance and confession could be the integrating factors that the son has been searching for. James Fenhagen talks about those moments when he is conscious that his life is in tune with God and the Spirit moves within him. He finds at times the sound is discordant, even harsh, but it remains one sound. There is a wholeness, even when the sounds are those of joy and pain -- yet it remains a single unified sound. He confesses that there are those moments when the many-faceted aspects of his personality are playing in opposition to each other. "When this happens, I experience inner chaos and confusion, the very opposite of wholeness. The answer is not to play louder, not to pretend we do not hear, but rather to take time to listen to the many sounds so that the message they contain can be brought to light" (Invitation to Holiness, p. 62). For so long the prodigal seemed to want to play the discordant tune louder, while all the time adding to his chaos and confusion. Regardless of how difficult repentance and confession seemed to be, he is on the verge of discovering how they will lead to the integration, harmony, and wholeness of life.
One of the greatest challenges of the spiritual life is to receive God's forgiveness. Nouwen points out that we are hesitant to allow God to erase our past. It is as though we want to prove to God that our sins are just too great to be forgiven. Even though God wants to restore our relationship, we insist on being merely a hired servant. "Receiving forgiveness requires a total willingness to let God be God and do all the healing, restoring, and renewing. As long as I want to do even apart of that myself, I end up with partial solutions, such as becoming a hired servant" (p. 138).
Church members on numerous occasions have complained to me about the inclusion of a prayer of confession in the order of worship for the congregation to recite in unison. The reason for their objection is that it makes some people feel bad and talking about our offenses, sins, shortcomings, and negligence causes them to have a low esteem of themselves. They remind me that people come to church to feel better, not to feel worse. However, Christian confession is a means of grace. Because of our assurance of God's love, forgiveness, and acceptance, we can pick up from here and move on. Freed from the burden of guilt, we can now live with our real, sinful selves, accepting ourselves because God accepts us and forgives us. How liberating it is to pray this eucharistic prayer of confession.
Merciful God, we confess that we have not loved you with our whole heart. We have not done your will, we have broken your law, we have rebelled against your will, we have not heard the cry of the needy. Forgive us, we pray. Free us for joyful obedience, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
-- United Methodist Book of Worship
I cannot think of anything that would make people feel better about themselves and boost self-esteem than to take part in a prayer of confession and the words of assurance. The prayer of confession was going to do wonders for the prodigal by helping him face the reality of his situation and see himself as he really was. Every desire to return to the father's house begins with an honest prayer of repentance.
When he said, "I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, Father I have sinned ..." it was as though all of the miles between him and his father at that moment had melted away. He was seeking guidance. He knew to whom he was to go. From this moment on, his life was to take a different direction. The decision to leave for a distant land caused fragmentation -- creating a downward spiral resulting in his life coming apart. The decision to rise and go to his father was the beginning of an upward spiral -- resulting in his life coming together. Now he was able to do something he could not previously do: he admitted his guilt and assumed his responsibilities outright.
It appears that the son's prayer, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you," is evidence of serious repentance on the son's part. Interpreting the Aramaic literally suggests reconsidering, changing one's opinion, and sorrowing for one's action. At this point in the text he offers no excuse. He repents, which leads him to confess that he had sinned against heaven and his father -- meaning that he had not cared for his father in his old age and failed to keep the law. The rabbinic idea of repentance was not a work that a person did to earn God's favor, but rather for repentance to be seen as sincere, it needed to be accompanied by reparations for the sin committed along with a determination to avoid all further sin.
It has been suggested that the son, in the scheme of things, is commanding his father. He has a plan and he is expecting his father to carry out his plan. He feels it is worthy of execution. He may be suggesting to his father to disregard the past and implying that he is sorry for what he has done and that he is not totally useless to his father. One has the feeling that up to this point he is sorry only for the money he has lost and not for any pain that he may have caused his father. The son's plan to become one of the hired servants has several advantages for him. For one thing, he will be able to keep his independence, which would provide him the opportunity to compensate his father for his errors and possibly pay restitution. On his own terms and with his pride intact, he seeks to order his father to take him back as a hired servant. By this plan, he will save himself and reconciliation with his brother will not be necessary.
A grave shortsightedness on the son's part is his failure to consider the village's response to his return. The fact is that no one sins in isolation. What we do, for good or bad, has an effect on others. Many times we try to convince ourselves that our sins and misdeeds hurt only ourselves and no one else. How foolish for us to think that there are such a things as victimless misdeeds and sins. Our sins and misbehavior are always painful for those who love us. The prodigal may have thought that his actions were victimless; he failed to realize it brought deep pain to his father's heart and disgrace to his village. David Buttrick asks the question: How do we humans sin? His answer is: we sin in our corporate, social, and family identities. "Sin cannot be defined in terms of a personally motivated individual acting alone; we do most of our damage corporately" (The Mystery and the Passion, p. 103). How easily we can become like the prodigal, so unconscious, so unaware of the effects of our actions and words upon others.
Now, the question for the prodigal is: How is he going to face the hometown folks? It will be hard for him to gain any status in the village since he has failed in a distant country. In this cultural setting, it is going to be difficult for him to return after he has emigrated to a distant land. He offended the entire community by taking and losing his father's inheritance while his father was still alive. The villagers are offended because they are concerned what other villages will think of them and that they may be judged by the actions of this one villager. The village's pent-up hostility will be vented on him for having insulted his father, sold his land, and lost his inheritance to a Gentile. He does not seem to have any solution for this problem and he will simply have to face the villagers. For now he seems to have a three-point plan: to live in the village as a hired servant, fulfill his responsibility to his father, and face the mockery of the villagers. He will do it because he is hungry.
One thing we need to remember, when the prodigal made his confession and said, "I will get up and go to my father," he was beginning a journey. Maybe his motives were wrong, but at least he was headed in the right direction. Many times at the beginning of a journey our vision is impaired and our motives are suspect, just like Pilgrim in Pilgrim's Progress. But as the journey continues, our vision becomes clearer and we are more aware of our motives. Maturity and wisdom set in -- there is a growing in grace. It is possible as the journey continues our values change with a broadening of our understanding of ourselves and the nature of our journey causing things to take a different direction. New values and goals resulting from the journey could possibly bring about a course correction, especially in regard to motives and purposes. This is what happened to the prodigal: he had a course correction along the way. During the course of the journey he got a glimpse of what a wretched person he really was. This self-understanding and awareness helped immensely to bring about the healing of his broken relationship with his father. The most important thing is to begin the journey home even though our vision is impaired and motives suspect -- and to say, "I will get up and go to my father." He may have been motivated by the wrong purposes, but how many people come to church to worship and pray for the wrong reasons? But in the process their lives may be transformed. That is the power of the redemptive fellowship. We hope there will be healing along the way for the prodigal.
When the prodigal declared, "I will rise and go to my father," this marked the turning point in his life. For the first time he had a sense of direction. He knew what he must do. He set out to do it. Sue Monk Kidd calls this "the grateful center" (God's Joyful Surprise, p. 200). The prodigal had now acquired such a center in his life. There was no doubt as to where he must go, what he must do, and what he must say.
For the first time he was being directed by moral principle rather than lustful and selfish desires. He knew what he had to do even though he knew it would be painful. Reconciliation is never easy. Now, he knew what was required of him. Now he had direction. For the first time, he felt his life was on the right track. He begins the long, hard journey back to the father's house.
Discussion Questions
1.
Doubt. The reclaiming of his sonship seems out of reach to the prodigal because of the gravity of his sin. He doubts his acceptance. He develops a plan and a prayer to make himself acceptable to his father. Where is grace in his proposition? What role has grace played in your relationship with God?
2.
Forgiveness. One of the greatest challenges of the spiritual life is to receive God's forgiveness. Nouwen points out that we are hesitant to allow God to erase our past and we insist on being merely a hired servant. What must we do to allow God's forgiveness to bring the healing, restoring, and renewing that God intends for us?
3.
Influence. As the prodigal prepares to go home, he has no idea of what the village's response will be regarding his return. Why was the village so concerned regarding the son's rebellion and the family's problems? What is the meaning of the statement, "No one sins in isolation"? What influence is your life having on others?
4.
Motives. No doubt as the prodigal heads home, he is doing so with wrong motives, but he is heading in the right direction. Along the way there is a course correction resulting in true repentance and confession. How many people come to church for the wrong reasons, but are transformed along the way? Have you had a course correction along the way, resulting in wholeness and healing? Explain.
5.
Principle. As the prodigal continues his journey toward his father's house, he has no doubt what he must do, where he must go, and what he must say. For the first time he is being guided by an inner moral principle rather than greed, lust, and selfish desires. Have you acquired a sense of moral direction in your journey?
Prayer
I want a principle within of watchful godly fear,
A sensibility of sin, a pain to feel it near.
I want the first approach to feel of pride or wrong desire,
To catch the wondering of my will,
And quench the kindling fire.
Almighty God of truth and love, to me thy power impart;
The mountain from my soul remove,
The hardness from my heart.
O may the least omission pain my reawakened soul,
And drive me to that blood again, which makes the wounded whole.
-- Charles Wesley in The United Methodist Hymnal
There is no doubt that the prodigal is at the end of his tether. As a Jew he has disgraced himself by becoming a swine herder. The plan that he devises seems to lack grace resulting from his genuine desire to repent. In his plan he intends to work and thereby fulfill his responsibility to his father. His request to be a hired servant is on his terms. He is telling his father what to do and orders his father to do it. If he is a servant standing before his master, then his plan is adequate. But since he is a son standing before a compassionate father, his plan is inadequate. At this point he has no idea that the restoration of this broken relationship will only result from his willingness to throw himself on the mercy of his father's grace. What he is really doing is seeking to soften his father's heart and then to offer his solution to the problem. Capon suggests that he is hoping "the old man is senile enough to make a deal" (The Parables of Grace, p.138). Regardless how one looks at it, his solution does not involve grace.
There is a repentance, but it is a self-serving repentance that offers the possibility of survival on the son's terms. Nouwen states:
I know this state of mind and heart well. It is like saying, "Well, I couldn't make it on my own, I have to acknowledge that God is the only resource left for me. I will go to God and ask for forgiveness in the hope that I will receive the minimal punishment and be allowed to survive on the condition of hard labor." God remains harsh and judgmental. Submission to this kind of God does not create true inner freedom, but breeds only bitterness and resentment.
-- The Return of the Prodigal, p. 46
I am well aware that there are several factors that call into question the nature of the son's repentance. He has lost his sonship, his inheritance, and he has abrogated his Judaism, his religion. Because of his actions, what belonged to the family and in a sense to the community now belongs to foreigners. His statement, "make me one of your hired servants," suggests that his relationship with his father is dead as far as a son is concerned. The reclaiming of sonship seems to be out of the question for him because of the gravity of his sin against his father. Capon suggests that he has, by his prodigality, lost all claim to his former status as his father's loyal child. By the proposition that he wants to present to his father he is seeking to carve out a new life for himself (p. 138).
He works on his speech because he is not sure how his father will receive him. He has some very practical needs, such as food and money, and feeling that he has lost his sonship forever, he wants to negotiate to see if he can be a hired servant. After forfeiting his sonship, he will plead with his father to put him on the payroll. Oesterley points out that there are three levels of servanthood on the first-century Jewish estate (The Gospel Parables in Light of Their Jewish Background, p. 186). The bondsman (paides) was at the top of the staff of servants. He was a slave with servile status, yet he was regarded as part of the master's family and had a special interest in the affairs of the family. The bondservant (douloi) was one step lower than the bondsman. The lowest category was the servants (misthioi). They were neither part of the family nor did they have any interest in the affairs of the family. They were employed when there was work to be done and could be dismissed at the pleasure of the master. Although a free man, the servant had no rights or security. In essence, the prodigal was requesting that his father give him the lowest position of all -- anything to be home. Granted that the envisioned return will only put him on the periphery of the family; nonetheless, it will reconnect him with the family's social network. Even though he is not in the full membership of the family, he will be in a social location in which he will know how to perform and will no longer be an outsider without acquaintance and food. Under the circumstances, that is enough to provide him with a sense of hope.
As a hired servant, he would be a free man with his own income living independently in the local village. This plan would make it possible for him to maintain his pride and his independence. As a hired servant, his thoughts may have been that he could work and fulfill his moral responsibility to his father. By paying back the squandered money, he hoped to make up his losses to his father, and thus earn his way back. Also, if he is a hired servant living off the premises, then he will not be eating his brother's bread (Bailey, p. 177). He knows now that everything left in the estate will be signed over to his brother, and by not living at home he will not have to reconcile with his brother. With all of these elaborate plans in place, he begins his journey home, but little did he know about the grace that waited him on his return.
Reflections
The prodigal now begins to compare his lot with that of his father's day laborers, to whom their kind master gives more bread than they can eat. Things do not stop there. Reality begins to settle in. He realizes how he has sinned against heaven and his father by his licentious life. He realizes that his sin against his father is of such magnitude that he is no longer worthy to be treated like his father's son.
After the prophet Isaiah had walked through the crowded city at festival time, watching the people as they hurried from one amusement to another only to come away with tired expressions and empty hearts, he then wrote, "Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and labor for that which does not satisfy?" (Isaiah 55:2). The question has been asked: Was the prodigal searching for adventure in a distant land where he could live without restraint and accountability, or was he searching for relationships and intimacy -- seeking to love and be loved.
The story is told about Karl Valentine, the German comedian, who is standing alone on stage as the curtain goes up. The entire stage is dark except for a solitary circle of light that has been created by the street lamp. Valentine, with a deeply worried look on his face, walks around and around under the light desperately looking for something. A policeman enters the scene and asks, "What are you looking for?" "My house keys," Valentine answers. The policeman joins the search and together they search for the keys. After several moments of searching and finding nothing the policeman asks, "Are you sure you lost them here?" "No!" Valentine answers. Pointing to the darkness he states, "I lost them over there." "Then why on earth are you looking for them over here?" the policeman replied. Valentine's response was, "Because there is no light over there." The prodigal's search for an unconditional love had taken him to a distant land where it could not be found. How many times in our search for happiness do we go to extremes in order to find it? The extremes, such as money, sex, and power, drive us further from both our heart's desire and the father's house. Nouwen has it right when he states, "I am the prodigal son every time I search for unconditional love where it cannot be found. Why do I keep ignoring the place of true love and persist in looking for it elsewhere?" (p. 39).
If the son's search was for love, it could be that his love was marred by jealousy, scarred by envy, and limited by selfishness. But yet the prodigal still may have remembered the love that he had experienced in the father's house. For the prodigal there were those unforgettable moments in the father's house when he experienced forgiveness, generously and freely. He may have remembered those times when he crept home when he was bruised and hurt and was reassured that someone cared. Now, as he is about to creep home once more, he is hoping that forgiveness and acceptance would happen again. Carlo Caretto points out that love makes demands of us. It will question us from within. It will disturb us. Sadden us. Play havoc with our feelings. Reveal our superficialities. We hope, at last it will bring us to the light. We hope it will bring the prodigal sensibility. This verse from Charles Wesley's hymn speaks to his condition:
Come, Lord, and tame the tiger's force,
Arrest the whirlwind in my will,
Turn back the torrent's rapid course,
And bid the headlong sun stand still,
The rock dissolve, the mountain move,
And melt my hatred into love.
Sitting next to the hog trough, he takes a hard look at his life and finds nothing. This comparison allows him to realize how empty his life has become. Now the whole story takes on a different direction in light of the prodigal's self-discovery. Now he acknowledges he has sinned against heaven and his father. What was his sin against his father? His failure to hold himself in readiness to care for his father in his old age. He is now aware that loss of the money had a moral responsibility attached to it. What was his sin against heaven and God? His failure to keep the responsibility that the inheritance required of him. Also he broke one of the most important and revered laws of the Hebrew community -- the fifth commandment.
But the cure for the sickness of his soul was now at hand. Leslie Weatherhead's statement is a valid one, "The forgiveness of sins is the most therapeutic thing in the world" (Psychology, Religion and Healing, p. 334). Repentance and confession could be the integrating factors that the son has been searching for. James Fenhagen talks about those moments when he is conscious that his life is in tune with God and the Spirit moves within him. He finds at times the sound is discordant, even harsh, but it remains one sound. There is a wholeness, even when the sounds are those of joy and pain -- yet it remains a single unified sound. He confesses that there are those moments when the many-faceted aspects of his personality are playing in opposition to each other. "When this happens, I experience inner chaos and confusion, the very opposite of wholeness. The answer is not to play louder, not to pretend we do not hear, but rather to take time to listen to the many sounds so that the message they contain can be brought to light" (Invitation to Holiness, p. 62). For so long the prodigal seemed to want to play the discordant tune louder, while all the time adding to his chaos and confusion. Regardless of how difficult repentance and confession seemed to be, he is on the verge of discovering how they will lead to the integration, harmony, and wholeness of life.
One of the greatest challenges of the spiritual life is to receive God's forgiveness. Nouwen points out that we are hesitant to allow God to erase our past. It is as though we want to prove to God that our sins are just too great to be forgiven. Even though God wants to restore our relationship, we insist on being merely a hired servant. "Receiving forgiveness requires a total willingness to let God be God and do all the healing, restoring, and renewing. As long as I want to do even apart of that myself, I end up with partial solutions, such as becoming a hired servant" (p. 138).
Church members on numerous occasions have complained to me about the inclusion of a prayer of confession in the order of worship for the congregation to recite in unison. The reason for their objection is that it makes some people feel bad and talking about our offenses, sins, shortcomings, and negligence causes them to have a low esteem of themselves. They remind me that people come to church to feel better, not to feel worse. However, Christian confession is a means of grace. Because of our assurance of God's love, forgiveness, and acceptance, we can pick up from here and move on. Freed from the burden of guilt, we can now live with our real, sinful selves, accepting ourselves because God accepts us and forgives us. How liberating it is to pray this eucharistic prayer of confession.
Merciful God, we confess that we have not loved you with our whole heart. We have not done your will, we have broken your law, we have rebelled against your will, we have not heard the cry of the needy. Forgive us, we pray. Free us for joyful obedience, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
-- United Methodist Book of Worship
I cannot think of anything that would make people feel better about themselves and boost self-esteem than to take part in a prayer of confession and the words of assurance. The prayer of confession was going to do wonders for the prodigal by helping him face the reality of his situation and see himself as he really was. Every desire to return to the father's house begins with an honest prayer of repentance.
When he said, "I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, Father I have sinned ..." it was as though all of the miles between him and his father at that moment had melted away. He was seeking guidance. He knew to whom he was to go. From this moment on, his life was to take a different direction. The decision to leave for a distant land caused fragmentation -- creating a downward spiral resulting in his life coming apart. The decision to rise and go to his father was the beginning of an upward spiral -- resulting in his life coming together. Now he was able to do something he could not previously do: he admitted his guilt and assumed his responsibilities outright.
It appears that the son's prayer, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you," is evidence of serious repentance on the son's part. Interpreting the Aramaic literally suggests reconsidering, changing one's opinion, and sorrowing for one's action. At this point in the text he offers no excuse. He repents, which leads him to confess that he had sinned against heaven and his father -- meaning that he had not cared for his father in his old age and failed to keep the law. The rabbinic idea of repentance was not a work that a person did to earn God's favor, but rather for repentance to be seen as sincere, it needed to be accompanied by reparations for the sin committed along with a determination to avoid all further sin.
It has been suggested that the son, in the scheme of things, is commanding his father. He has a plan and he is expecting his father to carry out his plan. He feels it is worthy of execution. He may be suggesting to his father to disregard the past and implying that he is sorry for what he has done and that he is not totally useless to his father. One has the feeling that up to this point he is sorry only for the money he has lost and not for any pain that he may have caused his father. The son's plan to become one of the hired servants has several advantages for him. For one thing, he will be able to keep his independence, which would provide him the opportunity to compensate his father for his errors and possibly pay restitution. On his own terms and with his pride intact, he seeks to order his father to take him back as a hired servant. By this plan, he will save himself and reconciliation with his brother will not be necessary.
A grave shortsightedness on the son's part is his failure to consider the village's response to his return. The fact is that no one sins in isolation. What we do, for good or bad, has an effect on others. Many times we try to convince ourselves that our sins and misdeeds hurt only ourselves and no one else. How foolish for us to think that there are such a things as victimless misdeeds and sins. Our sins and misbehavior are always painful for those who love us. The prodigal may have thought that his actions were victimless; he failed to realize it brought deep pain to his father's heart and disgrace to his village. David Buttrick asks the question: How do we humans sin? His answer is: we sin in our corporate, social, and family identities. "Sin cannot be defined in terms of a personally motivated individual acting alone; we do most of our damage corporately" (The Mystery and the Passion, p. 103). How easily we can become like the prodigal, so unconscious, so unaware of the effects of our actions and words upon others.
Now, the question for the prodigal is: How is he going to face the hometown folks? It will be hard for him to gain any status in the village since he has failed in a distant country. In this cultural setting, it is going to be difficult for him to return after he has emigrated to a distant land. He offended the entire community by taking and losing his father's inheritance while his father was still alive. The villagers are offended because they are concerned what other villages will think of them and that they may be judged by the actions of this one villager. The village's pent-up hostility will be vented on him for having insulted his father, sold his land, and lost his inheritance to a Gentile. He does not seem to have any solution for this problem and he will simply have to face the villagers. For now he seems to have a three-point plan: to live in the village as a hired servant, fulfill his responsibility to his father, and face the mockery of the villagers. He will do it because he is hungry.
One thing we need to remember, when the prodigal made his confession and said, "I will get up and go to my father," he was beginning a journey. Maybe his motives were wrong, but at least he was headed in the right direction. Many times at the beginning of a journey our vision is impaired and our motives are suspect, just like Pilgrim in Pilgrim's Progress. But as the journey continues, our vision becomes clearer and we are more aware of our motives. Maturity and wisdom set in -- there is a growing in grace. It is possible as the journey continues our values change with a broadening of our understanding of ourselves and the nature of our journey causing things to take a different direction. New values and goals resulting from the journey could possibly bring about a course correction, especially in regard to motives and purposes. This is what happened to the prodigal: he had a course correction along the way. During the course of the journey he got a glimpse of what a wretched person he really was. This self-understanding and awareness helped immensely to bring about the healing of his broken relationship with his father. The most important thing is to begin the journey home even though our vision is impaired and motives suspect -- and to say, "I will get up and go to my father." He may have been motivated by the wrong purposes, but how many people come to church to worship and pray for the wrong reasons? But in the process their lives may be transformed. That is the power of the redemptive fellowship. We hope there will be healing along the way for the prodigal.
When the prodigal declared, "I will rise and go to my father," this marked the turning point in his life. For the first time he had a sense of direction. He knew what he must do. He set out to do it. Sue Monk Kidd calls this "the grateful center" (God's Joyful Surprise, p. 200). The prodigal had now acquired such a center in his life. There was no doubt as to where he must go, what he must do, and what he must say.
For the first time he was being directed by moral principle rather than lustful and selfish desires. He knew what he had to do even though he knew it would be painful. Reconciliation is never easy. Now, he knew what was required of him. Now he had direction. For the first time, he felt his life was on the right track. He begins the long, hard journey back to the father's house.
Discussion Questions
1.
Doubt. The reclaiming of his sonship seems out of reach to the prodigal because of the gravity of his sin. He doubts his acceptance. He develops a plan and a prayer to make himself acceptable to his father. Where is grace in his proposition? What role has grace played in your relationship with God?
2.
Forgiveness. One of the greatest challenges of the spiritual life is to receive God's forgiveness. Nouwen points out that we are hesitant to allow God to erase our past and we insist on being merely a hired servant. What must we do to allow God's forgiveness to bring the healing, restoring, and renewing that God intends for us?
3.
Influence. As the prodigal prepares to go home, he has no idea of what the village's response will be regarding his return. Why was the village so concerned regarding the son's rebellion and the family's problems? What is the meaning of the statement, "No one sins in isolation"? What influence is your life having on others?
4.
Motives. No doubt as the prodigal heads home, he is doing so with wrong motives, but he is heading in the right direction. Along the way there is a course correction resulting in true repentance and confession. How many people come to church for the wrong reasons, but are transformed along the way? Have you had a course correction along the way, resulting in wholeness and healing? Explain.
5.
Principle. As the prodigal continues his journey toward his father's house, he has no doubt what he must do, where he must go, and what he must say. For the first time he is being guided by an inner moral principle rather than greed, lust, and selfish desires. Have you acquired a sense of moral direction in your journey?
Prayer
I want a principle within of watchful godly fear,
A sensibility of sin, a pain to feel it near.
I want the first approach to feel of pride or wrong desire,
To catch the wondering of my will,
And quench the kindling fire.
Almighty God of truth and love, to me thy power impart;
The mountain from my soul remove,
The hardness from my heart.
O may the least omission pain my reawakened soul,
And drive me to that blood again, which makes the wounded whole.
-- Charles Wesley in The United Methodist Hymnal