The parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15: 11-32) is one of the most talked about stories told by Jesus. A variety of interpretations have been offered that reflect the theological perspectives of various historical periods. Amy-Jill Levine, in her 2014 book Short stories of Jesus, reviewed traditional Christian interpretations while presenting what would have been the response of a Jewish audience in Galilee and Judea at the time of Jesus. In a 2005 book, Kenneth E. Bailey also spoke about the prodigal son considering his experience in Middle Eastern cultures. Both authors have challenged previous theological interpretations.
In general, Christian interpretations have said that the love of God is the main theme of the parable. The simple story is presented illustrating very theological issues. Augustine is an extreme representative of “theologizing” by presenting an allegorical vision that turns the older brother into a righteous Judaism that is rejected when God’s overwhelming love is demonstrated in the father’s welcome to the younger son. Less theological is the view of Kenneth E. Bailey, who correlates the details of the parable with the standards of Middle Eastern cultures. The anti-Jewish point of view is discarded, but a God of love remains the central theme.
The freshness of Amy-Jill Levine’s approach is to flip many theological approaches. Jewish audiences at the time of Jesus would not have been interested in the theology that came with the rule of Hellenism (which at that time was in Palestinian cities and not in the countryside). The parables were poignant stories. They often took a traditional theme, like a father showing favoritism towards a younger son, and put a surprising twist on the ending that upset normal assumptions. So trying to read heavy theological topics in small details of the story would be alien to the narrator’s intent and the messages understood by Jewish listeners.
This contrast of views recently emerged in a Sunday school discussion after watching a video lecture by Kenneth Bailey. The class, which is studying my book. Talking about the bible, was pausing to listen to Bailey before studying the chapter on the prodigal son.
Bailey did not make the mistake of presenting the love of God in the story as a denial of the elder brother’s faithfulness. Bailey linked the details of the story to the family dynamics she had seen in Middle Eastern cultures. I was not aware of Levine’s point that a loving father was probably being manipulated by a spoiled son used to getting his way with dad, an interpretation that makes God’s love fickle and prone to favoritism rather than overwhelming. generosity generally seen in Christian interpretations. .
What is remarkable about this parable and others that Jesus told, as Levine pointed out, is how they can lead to a variety of interpretations. It is the nature of the genre to produce this kind of response, and the better the story, the wider the variation in possible interpretations.
The interpretation presented in Talking about the bible it is based on my childhood experience of being terrified by sermons on judgment. I agree that the father in the story represents the love of God, but he is not the limitless and overly generous love that is often presented from Christian pulpits. I think Amy-Jill Levine’s approach helps to support the view that it is God’s forgiveness that presents itself rather than boundless love, although I suspect she would think my approach is too theological.
I see the parable as a story of forgiveness and celebration when judgment and anger were expected to be the norm. The youngest son committed a serious crime, as Bailey and many others have pointed out, when he could not wait for the father’s death to obtain his inheritance. Then he lost everything. Bailey points out that there is no indication that he wasted it in a sinful way. He passed it fast and went bankrupt, which means he failed, no matter how it happened. Desperate, he had nowhere else to turn and made the painful decision to return home completely disgraced. His return is generally seen as regret because he rehearses apologetic-sounding words and seemed to acknowledge that he did not deserve anything from his family. Levine has pointed out what the son’s manipulative intent might have been, but the story clearly has the father wanting so much to see the regret that he didn’t wait to hear the son’s message.
The conflict arises from the celebration launched by the father instead of welcoming the lost son. The eldest son finds out late about the celebration because obviously the father forgot to invite him. The suggestion is that the celebration has been exceeded and the eldest son objects.
The same type of celebration occurs in the parable of the lost sheep (Matthew 18: 12-14; Luke 15: 3-7). The owner leaves ninety-nine sheep behind while searching for a single lost sheep. Then celebrate and enjoy the restoration of it more than the safety of ninety-nine.
The search for a lost sheep and the joyous welcome home from a vagabond certainly illustrate love, but it is the celebration that is emphasized more than love. Even though the prodigal son insulted his father, squandered his inheritance, and returned a failure, the father offers loving forgiveness even before he asks for it. The festival celebrates that forgiveness has taken place so that the restoration of the family has taken place. Likewise, the restoration of the lost sheep is cause for excessive joy without asking how the loss came about.
The objection of the older son was not that the father accepted the younger son back into the family, but the lack of recognition shown by his own firmness in the performance of family responsibilities. The father’s response was that he loved this faithful son no less than the spendthrift. He said, in effect, “If you wanted a party, you should have said so!” In other words, those who do not stray are taken for granted. They do not need forgiveness as they experience the ever-present reality of family love. A moral of the story is: we don’t celebrate the normal, everyday things that are important to us. We shout with joy, not in our day-to-day lives, but when something out of the ordinary happens.
The way I see it, both parables focus on how forgiveness leads to restoration and celebration; however, there is a problem with parables. Details are vague and the story closes in the middle. What happened to the prodigal son after the party? I suspect that reality was established very early, but we don’t know for sure.
In chapter 13 of Speaking Back to the Bible, I argue that forgiveness and celebration do not eliminate natural consequences. This is where my concern about the trial comes into play. The father, representing God, welcomes the son without imposing punishments that suggest divine wrath. But there is no indication that the older son will have the inheritance taken away to reintegrate the younger son. Losing half of the family fortune has inevitable consequences.
The kind of forgiveness seen in the prodigal son is not a fairy tale event that completely undoes the mistakes of the past. It is a down-to-earth forgiveness that allows someone to move forward in life while still facing the natural consequences of previous actions. Restoration brings a mountaintop experience as everyone celebrates. But the valleys continue in the days to come, as we must live with the consequences of past mistakes. Still, forgiveness frees us to focus on the future, without heavy burdens of guilt and regret, because we have faced our problems. The past does not disappear but we can accept it and move towards a better future. This is a realistic forgiveness experience available to all of us.