Tim Keller’s book, The Prodigal God, changed my life. It helped me see my need for Jesus.
In case you have not read it (and I highly recommend that you do!), let me provide a little synopsis. Usually when we think of the word “prodigal,” we think of someone who foolishly and extravagantly spends an inheritance, such as the younger son in the well-known parable. Keller picks up the adjective and applies it, instead, to God. Keller quotes the dictionary as defining “prodigal” as:
1. recklessly extravagant
2. having spent everything
(I am not sure which dictionary or edition Keller used. When I consulted Merriam-Webster’s 10th Edition, I found the first definition but not the second. Even with just the first definition, Keller’s premise works.)
Keller explains, “The father’s welcome to the repentant son was literally reckless, because he refused to ‘reckon’ or count his sin against him or demand repayment”.1
When I first read this, I was shocked. I had grown so accustomed to “prodigal” with its negative connotation (“characterized by wasteful, foolish expenditure”), that I sat for a few trembling minutes to digest this new premise.
But, it all makes sense. God is the one who does not withhold anything – not even his own son – in order to save us from our sins. He sacrifices that which is most precious to Him in order to redeem us from the kingdom of darkness.
The last paragraph of the introduction of The Prodigal God reads as follows:
In this story, the father represents the Heavenly Father Jesus knew so well. The apostle Paul writes: “God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, not reckoning to them their trespasses” (2 Corinthians 5:19 – American Standard Version). Jesus is showing us the God of Great Expenditure, who is nothing if not prodigal toward us, his children. God’s reckless grace is our greatest hope, a life-changing experience, and the subject of this book.
In his book, Keller proposes a paradigmatic shift regarding the sons. (He was not the first to do this; the foundation for his understanding of the parable comes from a sermon preached by Dr. Edmund P. Clowney over forty years ago.) Keller posits that the parable of the prodigal son has been poorly named. We know that the sectional titles in scripture are not inspired. Keller rightly emphasizes that this parable is about two sons, both of whom are lost for different reasons. This story, he says, would be more aptly named “The Parable of the Lost Sons.”
We are well acquainted with the lostness of the younger son. He deeply dishonors his father by demanding his share of the inheritance. His father acquiesces, and the foolish son flees to a faraway land and squanders everything. A severe famine descends upon the land. Reduced to the shameful identity of pig-feeder, he longs to fill his belly with the food of the unclean hogs. But no one gives him anything.
The rebellion of the younger son is obvious. He returns, in brokenness and humility, hoping against hope that his father will allow him to be a servant. He recognizes that he is not worthy to be called a son. In an act of show-stopping compassion, the father runs to his son – embraces him; kisses him; bedecks him with a robe, ring, and shoes; kills the fattened calf and throws a lavish celebration. “For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found” (Luke 15:24).
The rebellion of the older son is more hidden, and as a result, possibly more dangerous. We know the story. The older brother is incensed at his father’s compassion and joy. He is greatly offended by what he perceives to be a gargantuan injustice. “It’s not fair,” he chokes out, “I have always served you; I have never disobeyed you; and you never even gave me a goat to celebrate with my friends. But, when your worthless son, who has wasted your property with prostitutes, comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him.”
How is the older son rebellious? He is rebellious because he is offended by his father’s mercy. He has a misplaced sense of entitlement, and he is blind to his own sin – to his need for Jesus.
I will admit, to my shame, that I can relate with the older brother. I have been him almost my whole life. For many years, I lived very selfishly. I shook my fist at God when I suffered, thinking that I deserved better. I was like the rich young man in Matthew 10 who was convinced that he had kept the whole law since his youth but who completely missed what was at the heart of following Jesus.
I am so grateful that God, in his severe mercy, helped me to see my need for Jesus. Through several circumstances (which I am choosing not to share – I am learning what it means to be “wise as a serpent”), the Lord showed me that, rather than a happy life, I actually deserved to burn in hell because this is what all sin deserves. Faced with this terrifying reality, I fell down before Christ in complete thankfulness for his grace and mercy on the cross.
Thinking myself the older brother in the parable, I needed to come to see that I was actually the younger brother. Because it is only with the repentant heart attitude of the younger brother that one can be saved. All the fitness he requires is to feel your need of him.2
The reason Jesus spoke so harshly to the Pharisees is that they were blind to their need of him. He was trying to wake them up to their need. The tax collectors, prostitutes, and “sinners” knew they needed him. But, the teachers of the law thought they were righteous. They were completely blind to the way that their sense of entitlement deeply dishonored a holy, righteous God. Deceived into thinking they were on their way to heaven, they were actually sons of hell.
This deception is what makes the Pharisaical mindset so dangerous. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Until you can understand that you deserve the wrath of God, heaven’s door cannot be opened to you.
Sometimes I envy younger brothers. When you have a story of a terrible past, especially one that all of society condemns, you know that you do not deserve God’s love and good gifts. I wonder if younger brothers have a closer walk with Jesus; they love him so much because of how deep his mercy goes for them. It’s like the story that Jesus tells to Simon in Luke 7:
“A certain moneylender had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he canceled the debt of both. Now which of them will love him more?” Simon answered, “The one, I suppose, for whom he canceled the larger debt.” And [Jesus] said to him, “You have judged rightly.”
Luke 7:41-43
But he who is forgiven little, loves little (Luke 7:47b). The older brothers think they have little of which to be forgiven; as a result, they often love Jesus less. That was me. And I should say that it continues to be a mentality with which I struggle. When I call to mind the great debt that I owe God and could never pay, it is in those moments that my love for God overflows – when I remember that “Jesus paid it all.”
(Let me be clear: I understand that it is not right to long to be a younger brother. I do not long to be a greater sinner. But, I do long for a closer walk with Jesus.)
Several years ago, I lived an experience that has been indelibly imprinted on my mind and heart. I was with a group of friends, and an older brother in Christ was sharing with us his “younger brother” story. He had been addicted to pornography for years. (As a believer.) He wrestled with much despair. Eventually, through a series of events, the Lord was gracious and freed him from his addiction. As he shared his story, his face radiated a profound peace and joy. And my heart filled with joy as well. Wow, this man is free! Praise Jesus! What a brave brother he is – to share this story with us. He is entrusting himself to us.
The reason I mention this is that I wish we all had this freedom. We should have this freedom in the body of Christ – to confess our sins to each other so that we may be healed (James 5:16) – to share our testimonies in order to glorify Jesus. I once was lost, but now am found. Was blind, but now I see.3
Sadly, though, I have been in the presence of Christians who say in discomfort, “Well this is just distracting,” when they hear a story like the one above. Sometimes it has been even worse. I have also heard the following response: “Don’t ever share this story again!”
This grieves me.
Now, I understand the need for discretion and being “wise as a serpent.” I am not advocating for liberally sharing one’s story in any and every context. But, let’s examine the thoughts and intentions of our hearts. Let’s ask the Holy Spirit to bathe them in grace and humility, and to root out self-righteousness. Let’s build each other up. Let’s bear witness to each other’s testimonies with gentleness and joy because they point to God’s great work of mercy and grace. Let’s help each other to walk in the light, according to the principles of 1 John. As Christians, we have been given an amazing gift: a new identity: heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ.
But, let’s never forget who we once were and our need for daily confession of sin – a means of grace! Let’s not be the older brother who looks down on the repentance of the younger brother. Let’s come every day to Jesus with the humility and worship of the younger brother – who knew he needed a Prodigal God. Praise God that He forgives all those who repent – both younger and older brothers!
He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?
Micah 6:8
Keller, Timothy. The Prodigal God: Recovering the Heart of the Christian Faith. Penguin Group, 2008, xv.
From the hymn, Come Ye Sinners.
From the hymn, Amazing Grace.
I loved Keller’s book. And yes, the older brother was probably more “lost” than his younger brother. I have also read a good book by Henri Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son, which is a lengthy reflection on the painting by Rembrandt, same title. Nouwen reflects on how all of us may be the younger or older brother, but ultimately are called to be the father. Thanks for sharing this!