A Prodigal Son, An Undignified Dad: Reflections on Luke 15:11-32

March 03, 2013 by Alyce McKenzie

Lectionary Reflections
Luke 15:11-32
March 10, 2013

You can tell what an interpreter thinks a parable means by the name she gives it. So what about this one? The Prodigal Son? The Lost Sons? The Waiting Father? The Enabling Father? The Undignified Dad?

This parable, the best loved of Luke's parables, falls into two parts: the first focuses on the younger son, the second on the older son. The father is the protagonist throughout the parable. The younger son asks for his share of the inheritance, probably a third of his father's estate as the younger of two sons (Dt. 21:17). The essence of a man's inheritance in that time was land and the only way it could be received was upon the father's death. Thus, his request was essentially, "Father, I wish you would drop dead." Even though the father could divide the land before his death, he retained rights to the use of the land. The younger son, in selling his portion, left his father without rights to the land's use (Stiller, 111). A person's property is his until death, and the family's property was meant to maintain its oldest members until their death. So to demand his share early and then to dissipate it rather than to manage it responsibly for his parents' sakes, is to say to his father, in effect, "You are already dead to me" (Duke, 90).

He goes into the Greco-Roman world, as many Jews did to seek their fortunes in the lands around Palestine. His goal is to find himself, but he ends up by losing himself, reduced to working with unclean animals (Lev. 11:7). The parable tells us that he "came to himself," (Lk. 15:17). At this point, the parable's emotional richness begins to draws us in, so that we identify first with one then another of its characters. The boy is hungry. He is humiliated. He knows he has made a mistake and is desperate to survive. Does this mean he genuinely repented? We can't be sure. The narrative shows him sitting among the pig pods rehearsing what he will say to his father. Can we trust his sincerity? Is he just saying whatever it takes to fill his stomach? The story doesn't fill in this gap for us.

The culture of Palestinian villages was one of honor and shame. Honor was connected to how one was perceived in the community. The son has brought shame on his father and his whole family by his behavior. He can expect to be shamed by the village. His decision has affected the whole village. It has put his family's future means of making a living at risk. It has undermined their honor and place in the village and soured their relationship with their neighbors (Stiller, 112).

The younger son could expect that the townspeople would conduct a gesasah ceremony on his return. This is not a reception in the fellowship hall with a "Welcome Home" banner and a sheet cake. This is a ceremony for a son of the village who had lost his money to Gentiles or married an immoral woman. They would gather around him, breaking jars with corn and nuts and declare that he was to be cut off from the village. His entry into the village would be humiliating as his townspeople expressed their anger and resentment toward his actions (Stiller, 111).

When the father sees his son, his compassion is inspired and he moves toward him. We are reminded of the sequence in the Good Samaritan of seeing someone suffering, having compassion, and taking action (Lk. 10:33). He may have been seeking to protect his son from the insults of those he must pass by on the way home. His behavior is strange. Fathers did not run to their children. This is more maternal behavior, as is the kiss. Here the father exposes himself to humiliation to prevent his son from being humiliated. His behavior is strange; it is not the way the male head of a household would act in Jesus' time. He is the patriarchal head of the household. His running to meet his son is an expression of a love so strong that one is willing to cast one's dignity to the winds, to put aside one's power and position for the good of another (Stiller, 110).

I'm a parent of three children. I know what it feels like to be angry and hurt by a child and desperate to lay eyes on that child all at the same time, knowing that, if you ever do, you will give them the moon, never mind that they don't deserve it and that it may not be good for their character. As a parent, whatever struggle you are having with your child's growing pains, you cannot bear to hear a negative word about that child uttered by someone else! So I'm there with that father, running out to place himself, physically, if necessary, in between that boy and any insults that bystanders may fling at him as he makes his way home.

The father won't even let his son get through his carefully rehearsed speech before he begins issuing orders to the servants. He offers him a kiss (a sign of forgiveness, 2 Sam. 14:33), a robe (a mark of distinction), a signet ring (a sign of authority), and shoes (worn only by freemen). The father throws him a banquet, rejoicing in his son's return to his father's table. He wants to point out his honored status to his younger son, but also to the community (Boucher, 100-101).

Article Continued On Next Page

Page: 1 of 2

12/2/2022 9:10:36 PM

Progressive Christian

Edgy Exegesis

Bible Study

Progressive Christianity

Sacred Texts

Christianity

Protestantism

more at patheos

Is This “Culture War” Catholicism—or Evangelization?

Dennis Knapp

I'm Not Sorry for Milo Yiannopoulos. But this is Wrong

Mary Pezzulo

Sunday reading

Fred Clark

How Haiku Can Deepen Christian Spirituality

Gregory T. Smith

About Alyce McKenzie

Alyce M. McKenzie is the George W. and Nell Ayers Le Van Professor of Preaching and Worship at Perkins School of Theology, Southern Methodist University.

Patheos Logo Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Subscription Support Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In

Follow Patheos