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Image: The Prodigal Son by Peter Paul Rubens (1618)

Think of how many times you’ve heard today’s parable. And all the different interpretations you’ve heard of it. The most common one is to identify us with the younger son. Just as the younger son was welcomed back with open arms even after squandering his father’s gifts, so our heavenly Father welcomes us back, even after we have made terrible choices. The second most common is an identification with the older brother. This is especially popular among church folk who have tried to live according to the teachings of Jesus, who have made mostly good choices in their lives, and who sometimes get a little judgy about those we might see as less deserving.

And occasionally, you hear a sermon urging the congregation to be like the gracious father. Just as the father thinks nothing of his dignity in welcoming back his younger son, so we are to set aside our pride in caring for those we might think of as undeserving.

All three interpretations have their place. And often these sermons title the parable differently depending on the angle they’re going for. But what if there’s another way to read this parable, which has little to do with us at all? What if we are merely the recipients of the undeserved, unfathomable grace of God in Jesus Christ—not as the younger brother, but as the denizens of the “far country”?

Luke sets the context for us. Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem. And as he travels, crowds follow to hear him. Included in these crowds are some unsavory types. They include tax collectors. Now tax collectors, especially Jewish ones, were considered to be traitors to their people. Not only did they collect money on behalf of Rome, they often charged exorbitant fees on top of the tax owed, which they kept for themselves. Also included are non-descript “sinners”, a catch-all term for those who had separated themselves from God’s people by their actions. It’s important to remember that these were people who had chosen to go their own way. They were usually not victims (although the woman who washes Jesus’s feet in chapter 7, so labeled by Simon the Pharisee, may be an exception). They were often oppressors of the faithful. Which is why the Pharisees and legal experts are so offended when Jesus welcomes them. In their eyes, Jesus is siding with the enemies of the people.

So, Jesus tells three parables about the redemption of the lost—a lost sheep, a lost coin, and a lost son. But the last one is by far the most layered; it is the most open to interpretation. Now, I’m not saying this is the definitive way to read this parable. The beauty of parables is that there is no one definite way to understand them. But it is strange how the story of the younger son resonates with the life and ministry of Jesus the Christ.

Jesus is the one who, after all, takes what belongs to his heavenly Father and goes into a distant country to “waste” his Father’s things on those wider society might deem as undeserving and immoral. People like, say, the tax collectors and sinners, including Levi, one of his own disciples, and Zacchaeus! People like the sinful woman who washes his feet and a centurion—a Roman oppressor—in Luke chapter 7. People like a man with a skin disease and a paralyzed man in chapter 5—who must have done something to deserve their plight! People like a Samaritan in chapter 17, who is the only one out of ten healed men to give glory to God! And people like a crucified insurrectionist, who humbly asks Jesus to remember him when he comes into his kingdom.

He is the one who descends utterly into the muck and mire of human existence, like the younger son who finds himself working among the pigs. Unfortunately, we don’t have the appointed second reading from the lectionary today, but the last verse from it is the most important one. 2 Corinthians 5:21: “For our sakes, God made the one who knew no sin—Jesus—to be sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” Jesus goes into our world, gives his Father’s things to the unworthy, ungrateful, and immoral, and descends to death. For our sake, he truly becomes sin in his Father’s eyes. He becomes the unworthy one. He becomes the condemned and lost Son who takes not only our sins but those of the whole, godless world upon himself as he hangs in failure and shame on that cross. And he is the Son his Father remembers. God the Father runs to Jesus, so to speak, as he lays dead in that tomb, he raises him up to life again, and he exalts Jesus as Lord and Christ over all. Luke emphasizes this pattern—death, resurrection, and exaltation—repeatedly, both in the gospel that bears his name, and also in the sequel volume of Acts. Jesus becomes lost for our sake. He is condemned to death and hell—for us! And he is raised up and exalted for us as our Lord who will never die again.

And as always, there are the whisperings of unfaith from the older brother. Really? This Jesus, a Galilean Jew from the peasant hamlet of Nazareth, is Lord and Christ? This man, who appears to the world like an odd itinerant preacher who got crushed by the religious and secular authorities, is the Author of Life, the ruler of the cosmos? Wouldn’t one of the great men of history—say a Caesar or an Alexander or a Napolean or a Muhammad—men who led conquering armies and could rally a populace to their cause—be a better candidate? NO! That is not true lordship and that is not what Jesus is about. He comes not to kill but to heal, not to condemn but to save. And to do that, he must walk the path that leads through the cross to resurrection and ascension on the other side. Jesus returns to his heavenly Father. And in so doing, he ensures that we, too, can return to our heavenly Father.

There are no “thou shalts” attached to this forgiveness. There are no strings attached. No, we simply receive his forgiveness as we receive holy communion every week. We receive his forgiveness so that we can live a new life, a life that is freed from the old Adam or Eve within us to live in God’s presence without shame.

That is who we are, people of God. Jesus took on the younger son’s role for us, so we can be in right relationship with God and with each other. The only thing we need to do is to receive his forgiveness. Because in the end, the last word is always mercy. Amen.

© 2025, David M. Fleener. Permission granted to copy and adapt original material herein for non-commercial purposes with appropriate credit given.