He lived in his father’s house through his growing-up years. Now all of that seemed long ago. It was a slow process, almost imperceptible, that took him from being the trusting child, holding on to his father’s hand as they walked out to do the chores, looking at his father with love and respect, and finding joy in companionship with his father to a son who wanted to leave home. But now all had changed. Now he resented his father’s restraints, chafed at his counsel, and detested his instructions. For a time he lived as a prodigal at home, but now he wanted out. His father seemed severe, exacting, unreasonable. Then one day he came up with a plan.

He went to his father and boldly asked for his share of the inheritance. He knew he would need these blessings in order to make it comfortably on his own. He wasn’t foolish enough to simply run away, but in essence, he said, “Drop dead, Dad.” He wanted no further relationship with his father, except to spend his father’s money. According to this parable, in Luke 15:13, it wasn’t long after that he left. It says,

“Not many days after the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living.”

So the first step of independence from his father, even while a member of his father’s household, and the second step of leaving his father’s house and heading for the far country, were not far separated.

There in the far country, the son abandoned all judgment and reason and restraint. He didn’t budget his money; he didn’t invest it. He certainly didn’t work to earn more. He just spent it unthinkingly. Occasionally one of his friends would ask about his family. “What’s your father like?”

“Oh, he’s stern, unbending, exacting. Really strict. Can’t ever please him.”

“What about your older brother?”

“He’s a drag. Always out in the fields before sunup. Always trying to please the old man. Let’s talk about something else.”

But the younger prodigal had too many friends–the wrong kind. When he ran out of money, his friends left and things got hard, there in the far country.

“When he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in want.” Luke 15:14.

This was a new experience. The friends he thought he had didn’t know him now. He was hungry for the first time in his life. He was ragged and tattered. And he did what prodigals have done for centuries. He began trying to save himself from the mess he had gotten himself into. He went to work, hoping to get his act together and satisfy his immediate and urgent needs.

Gradually he came to the end of his meager resources. His money was gone; his topcoat had been pawned off long ago. He had sold his suit and vest, and even his shirt. And finally, it says, “he came to himself.” He not only realized a need, but he realized his own helplessness. That’s what happened to him there in the pigpen. And when that happened, his attitude toward his father began to change.

He began to think how his father treated his servants. His father was a far kinder master than the one he now worked for. The servants in his father’s house had plenty to eat and decent clothes and a place to live. He looked around the pigpen with disgust. “My father’s servants are better off than this,” he told himself. And a plan began to form in his mind.

As he came to himself, he also began to come to his father. He still underestimated his father’s love and acceptance. But he no longer saw his father as a tyrant. And he planned a speech. He will go back home and ask to be taken on as a servant. Who knows? maybe his father would even give him special consideration.

Then he gave up trying to fix up his own life. He didn’t wait to save money for some new clothes or a donkey to ride home. He immediately arose and headed for his father’s house. And wonder of wonders, before he even got to the gate, his father came running to meet him. His father, with aching heart, has been watching down the road, day after day. His father has been yearning for his return, and when he saw him coming afar off, he ran to meet him. Love is of keen sight. The son began his carefully rehearsed speech, but never got a chance to even finish it. He said, “I have sinned.”

His father put his own robe around him to cover his shame. He said, “I am no more worthy.” His father put his ring on his finger, reinstating him in the family. He had planned to ask a servant’s place, but he never had a chance, for his father put shoes on his feet–the servants didn’t wear shoes in those days. He was accepted and established fully as his father’s son. And in place of the husks that the pigs had fed upon, he is now feasting from the bounties at his father’s table.

The Second Prodigal

“Now his elder son was in the field: and as he came and drew nigh to the house, he heard musick and dancing. And he called one of the servants, and asked what these things meant. And he said unto him, Thy brother is come; and thy father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath received him safe and sound. And he was angry, and would not go in: therefore came his father out, and entreated him. And he answering said to his father, Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment: and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends: but as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf. And he said unto him, Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. Itwas meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.” Verses 25-32.

Which prodigal son do you identify with? This father had not one, but two of them, didn’t he? The second prodigal thought he had done well in keeping the commandments, for he says, “Neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment.” But his obedience was a legal obedience only, and as such was worth nothing. The one who attempts to keep the commandments of God from a sense of obligation merely, because he is required to do so, will never enter into the joy of obedience. He does not obey. Obedience is a matter of the heart, not merely the outward actions.

The elder brother gave evidence here that he was a prodigal at heart, even though outwardly he was still in his father’s house. He was in a far country on the inside, and hadn’t even progressed as far as the pigpen!

The elder brother was a “good liver”. But it isn’t much fun being good in the way he was good. That kind of good living will put ulcers in your stomach and lines on your face, because badness held in check is not goodness, and never will be. Sitting on a keg of dynamite that is about ready to explode is a terrible experience, more terrible the longer you sit there. And things finally exploded the day of the feast. All of the hostility the elder brother had held in came to the surface.

He had watched in silence for years as his father spent time looking down the road with his binoculars, instead of looking at the good job his elder son was doing in the field. He had wanted his father to forget about his younger brother. In his mind, his younger brother was as good as dead, and even when his father came out from the feast to reason with him, he referred to him contemptuously as “this thy son” instead of “my brother.”

But is the father unequal in his concern for his two prodigal sons? No, as soon as he realized the distance the older son has put between them, he goes out to meet him too. He doesn’t give up on the elder son, even though he was being unreasonable. The father loved both of his boys and did everything he could to reach both of them. The father had made provision for the younger brother, in the robe and the shoes and the ring and the feast. And he made provision for the older brother as well. Have you been a prodigal like the younger son?

There is forgiveness and acceptance and the robe of His righteousness waiting for you and a place of fellowship for you at His table. Have you been a prodigal like the elder son? Hear the Father’s voice saying, “All that I have is thine.” His forgiveness and acceptance and robe of righteousness and the fellowship with Him at His table is for you too!

Won’t you join in the feast provided? It doesn’t matter which of the prodigal sons you have been imitating. All that the Father has is for you, and is yours, if you accept it. The Father has come out to meet you and invites you into His family today.