What is the meaning of the Parable of the Prodigal Son?

The Saviour adds a third parable to complete as well as confirm the truth of God's grace in saving the lost who repent. The first set out the heedless active straying of the sinner; the second, his insensible dead state till the Spirit works through the living word; the third uses the figure, not of a sheep or a coin, but of a man to point the fact of an inward work in the conscience, and of the reception the returning soul finds in the Father's love and the privileges of grace.

We have seen the Lord Jesus in His work set forth by the shepherd, and the more hidden but at the same time the active, painstaking operation of the Spirit of God, no less necessary in order to bring home the work to men in both giving the light to see and also searching them out. Now we have in the third parable the effect produced; for the work is not merely conversion or pardon, and therefore nothing that is done in this way would suffice unless there was the full bringing of the soul to God and also into fellowship with Him, the new and intimate relationship of a son by grace. This is what the third parable accordingly sets forth. And hence it is no longer a sheep or a piece of money, but a man. It is there that we find intelligence and conscience, and so much the more guilt. Such is man's case. The first Adam had a certain relationship to God. When he was formed out of the dust, God dealt with him in tender mercy and gave him special advantages in Eden, privileges of every suited sort. But man fell from God, as the prodigal here left his father's house.

But in addition to these, there is a third parable necessary: not only a strayed sheep and a lost inanimate piece of money, but, besides, the moral history of man away from the presence of God, but coming to Him again. Hence the parable of the lost son takes man from the very first, traces the beginning of his departure, and the course and character of the misery of a sinner on the earth, his repentance, and his final peace and joy in the presence of God, who Himself rejoices as truly as man objects. Practically this is true of every sinner. In other words, there is a little yielding to sin, or desire to be independent of God — a farther and farther depth of evil in every person's history. I do not believe that the chapter discusses the question of a backsliding child of God, though a common principle of course, here and there, would apply to the restoration of a soul. This is a favourite idea with some who are more familiar with doctrine than with Scripture. But there are objections, plain, stronger, and decisive, against understanding the chapter thus. First, it does not suit, in the smallest degree, what we have just seen in the parables of the lost sheep and the lost piece of money. Indeed it seems to me impossible to reconcile such an hypothesis even with the simple and repeated expression "lost." For who will affirm that, when a believer slips away from the Lord, he is lost? The most opposed to this, singular to say, is the very school most prone to that misinterpretation. When a man believes, he is a lost sheep found; he may not run well, no doubt; but never does Scripture view him afterwards as a lost sheep. Just so is it with the lost drachma; and so, finally, with the lost son. The prodigal was not, in the first instance, an unfaithful saint; he was not a backslider merely, but "lost" and "dead." Are these strong figures ever true of him who is a child of God by faith? They are precisely true, if we look at Adam and his sons, viewed as children of God in a certain sense. So the apostle Paul told the Athenians, that "we are also his offspring." Men are God's offspring, as having souls and moral responsibility to God, made after His similitude and His image here below. In these and other respects men differ from the beast, which is merely a living creature that perishes in death. A beast, of course, has a spirit (else it could not live); but still, when it dies, the spirit goes down to the earth, even as its body; whereas a man's spirit, when he dies (no matter as to this whether lost or saved), goes to God, as it came directly from God. There is that which, either for good or evil, is immortal in the spirit of man, as being breathed directly and immediately from God in the nostrils of man. Of the evangelists, Luke is the one who most speaks of man in this solemn light; and this, not only in his Gospel, but in the Acts of the Apostles. It connects itself with the large moral place he gives man, and as the object of divine grace. "A certain man had two sons;" so that man is looked at from his very origin. Then we have this son going farther and farther away from God, till he comes to the worst. There lay the opportunity of grace; and God brought him to a sense, not perhaps deep but most real, of his distance from God Himself as well as his degradation, sin, and ruin. It was by the pinch of want he was brought to himself — by intense personal misery; for God deigns to use any and every method in His grace. It was shame, and suffering, and wretchedness, which led him to feel he was perishing; and wherefore? He looks back to Him from whom he departed, and grace puts into his heart the conviction of goodness in God as of badness in himself. This was really wrought in him; it was repentance — repentance towards God; for it was not a mere conscientious judgment upon himself and his past conduct, but self-judgment from God, to which His goodness led Him — led him by faith back to Himself. "I will arise"' then he says, "and go to my father, and say, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight."

v.3-32The sneers of these scornful and self-righteous men became the occasion for the unfolding of the very heart of God, and from those lips that spake as never man spake there flowed this three-fold parable, which has been the wonder and joy of multitudes. It is truly one — three in one. The Shepherd who seeks the sheep is the Son; the woman who seeks the silver is the Spirit, and the father who welcomes the prodigal is the Father — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, the Triune God — concerned and active, not in the spreading of the great Supper only, but in filling it with guests, in the salvation of the lost — these very publicans and sinners despised by the Pharisees — and in your salvation and mine. It is as though the Lord said to them, You are grieved and offended because I receive sinners, but I receive them because the Father receives them, I am here to show you the Father, "he that has seen Me has seen the Father."

v.11-24This story of the love of God and how His love acts is incredible to all but a God-given faith, but those who have that faith believe it because Jesus told it, and His word is the word of the living God Who cannot lie. And how complete is the blessing, it is exceeding abundantly above all that they ask or think. Like the prodigal, they would have been satisfied with bread and a place in the kitchen, and that would have been infinitely beyond their deserts; instead God has forgiven them for Christ's sake, He has brought them into favour in His Beloved One, and they are permitted to hear the Beloved saying to His Father, "Father … Thou hast loved them as Thou hast loved Me … and I have declared to them Thy Name, and will declare it, that the love wherewith Thou hast loved Me, may be in them, and I in them." John 17.

v.12-13We need not search the night clubs for prodigals, or go down into the underworld of the great cities to find them, they are everywhere, and the man or woman that stands up and says to God, "I thank Thee I am not as other men," is a lineal descendant of the Pharisee of Luke 18. It was not the "riotous living" that made this younger son a prodigal, but the heart that was in him, and God looks at the heart. "Father," he said, "give me the portion of goods that falls to me." And his father richly endowed him with goods. He gave him enough to enable him to make a great and honourable success in life. But he had other plans, and no sooner had he got possession than he turned his back upon his father and breaking loose from all restraint, travelled far away from home, and lived his life for his own pleasure without any reference to his father's will.

v.11-13In this last parable the Lord takes up a case, meeting the objection of the Pharisees to His receiving publicans and sinners. He says, as it were, I will take the case of a man brought to the utmost degradation - eating husks with the swine (we must remember what swine were to the Jew), there too of his own choice. Why was the picture drawn thus? To shew that nothing could put the sinner beyond the reach of grace. Trace it as far as you please; God will act as God at the end of the story. Let us look a little at the case in detail (v. 11-13). This is just our history as men. The son here was happier far, as a man, when going from home than when returning; he was doing his own will. And this is the secret of all sin. But remark, whether we are living in vice or not, we have all turned our back on God. The young man was as great a sinner when he stepped rich across his father's threshold, as when feeding with the swine in the far country; he had chosen to act independently of God, and that is sin. He reaped the fruits afterwards of this, no doubt, but that is not the question. Nay, in one sense, the very consequences of his sin were mercies, because they shewed him what his sin was.

v.12-13But man makes a distinction between sinners. So the Lord puts a case where the sinner is gone, even in man's judgment, to the fullest degree of evil, and shews it does not outreach the grace of God - a case which wonderfully exhibits the truth, that "if sin abounds, grace does much more abound." When he first left the house he shewed where his heart was - alienated, revolted, gone; his back was turned upon his father and his father's house, and his face was towards the far country. He went forth to do his own will. A parent's heart will understand it. Our child sins against us - we feel it. We sin against God, and do not feel it. We are all of us in that sense children, that "have turned every one to his own way."

In verse 11 the two sons of a certain man do not picture true believers as sons of God, but rather those who by creation are God's offspring (Acts 17:28). In the younger son we see the publicans and sinners of verse 1, and in the elder son the self-righteous Pharisees. The younger son demanded what he could get, and went far from the father to enjoy it. Yet we must observe that the living of the father was divided between the two sons (v.12). The elder received his full share, but remained in close proximity to his father, where his living would not be squandered. But he had no real heart for his father, let alone for his brother (vs.2-30). His nearness to his father was only outward, just as was that of the Pharisees in relation to God. The elder son therefore represents Israel in all her outward blessings as the people of God, and the younger son, the Gentiles in their being without God and without hope in the world.

v.11-32The two sons in our parable do not represent those who are sons by faith in Christ Jesus, but sons of God in the sense in which Adam was a son, by creation. Luke 3:38, and as one of the pagan poets, quoted by St. Paul, had said of all men, "We are His offspring." Acts 17:28. Man was created in the image and after the likeness of God and set in the earth as a steward to hold it for Him. From that high honour he departed and fell when he gave his allegiance to the devil instead of to God, and he became what we see him now to be, not God-centred, but self-centred, a prodigal Adam and not an advancing and much to be congratulated ape. The race is a prodigal race, whether Pharisee or publican. Yet the heart of God yearns for men as the heart of a father yearns for a wayward son. It is this that the parable teaches.

But to complete the picture we have the wilful son, and also the self-righteous legalist, the elder son. We are told that a certain man had two sons, and that the younger demanded from his father the portion of goods that fell to him. Therefore his father divided all he possessed to them both. Not many days after this the younger man gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country. The father’s house was irksome to him, and therefore was he determined to have his fling in this wide world. He would, as they say, see life. This is man, all men, without exception. Every man desires to have his own way. In this the self-righteous Pharisee is quite as determined as the sinner. The elder son disputes his father’s right to receive the repentant prodigal. God’s ways, whether in grace or in judgment, never please the natural man.

v.14-16"And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in want. And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country, and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would fain have filled his belly with the husks which the swine did eat: and no one gave unto him." There is no giving in the "far country," not even of husks. Satan sells all, and dearly - our souls are the price. You must buy everything. The world's principle is 'nothing for nothing'; everything must bring its price. Your gratifications there must be purchased at the sacrifice of reputation and soul. If you sell yourself to the devil, you will get husks: he will never give you anything. Would you find a giver, you must come to God. Hearts are not easy in the world; leave a man for a few hours to himself, and he will soon be in want; but it is never the effect of this merely to bring back to God. "He began to be in want," but his will was not touched yet. There are very few hearts that have arrived at a certain time of life, that have not "begun to be in want." They go to seek in pleasure or in vice (in one thing or another, it matters not what; last of all, in God) something to satisfy them. The last thing the world thinks of is God: and then only when they are convinced that nothing else will do. They never think of the Father's house, for they know it not. If indeed they think of God, it is in judgment, not in grace. A man of the world says, You must have everything that is in the world to know that the world cannot satisfy you; but the knowledge that all the world cannot satisfy would never turn a man to God. He must know more, even that he is perishing; not merely not satisfied, but ruined. So it was with the prodigal.

There is the guest to be brought, far from his Father's house. As to all good, dead in trespasses and sins. As to all that is bad, he wasted his substance with riotous living. Spent all in grossest sins, with harlots. Could sin satisfy him? When he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land. Satan sends him to the swine. Poor fellow, he would fain have filled his belly with the husks the swine did eat: and no man gave to him. Oh, the dreadful slavery of sin! What wretchedness! And no man can give relief. And yet this very wretchedness and self abhorrence is what God is using to bring this poor prodigal to himself. He came to himself. Yes, is not the slavery of sin, rushing wilfully, madly, to certain everlasting woe; is it not madness? He came to himself. Would you have thought that that wretched sinner was the sample guest the Lord Jesus selects as the one to be brought to the great supper? The moment he came to himself, the Father came to his mind, and bread enough and to spare in the Father's house.

The Saviour now depicts two sons — one profligate, the other self-righteous (Luke 15:11-32). These represent the lawless and the religious classes respectively. The younger son, having obtained his portion from his father, forsook him, and wasted his substance in a distant land. In like manner do the mass of men live in utter disregard of Him whose offspring they are, and squander His rich endowments, health, means, and faculties, in the gratification of their carnal lusts. The first man aimed at independence of God, and the love of this has characterised all his progeny since. When the prodigal had "spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land." Thus all around him were destitute like himself, so that no man could relieve the pangs of his fellow. Graphic picture of the godless man's utter inability to assuage the grief and disappointment of his neighbour's heart. In truth they are all needy together, if they would but confess it.

168 "When he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son; make me as one of thy hired servants." He awoke to the consciousness, "I perish with hunger"; and then it was he thought of "the father's house," the very place he had been so anxious to get away from at first. He had not yet understood how he would be received, yet he did understand that there was love in that house (the very hired servants had bread enough and to spare); and he did understand, too, not only that he was hungry, but perishing with hunger. He wanted the goodness of that house; his was no mere abstract delighting in it. Wisdom and philosophy never found out God: He makes Himself known to us through our need; necessity finds him out. Who is it that really discovers the value of bread? The chemist? No; a hungry man. The sinner's heart - yes, and the saint's heart too - is put in its right place in this way. I doubt much if we have ever learned anything solidly, except we have learnt it thus. He knew that all was goodness there, the very servants were happy, and it was all over with him where he was; the need of his condition, all told him he must get back: "I will arise," etc.; but he did not yet know the extent of that goodness. Every soul that returns to God is thus brought to the thought of goodness in God.

v.17-19We see the same thing in Peter (Luke 5). He goes and falls at the feet of Jesus, and says, "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord." What an inconsistency! at the knees of Jesus, and yet telling Him to go away. And there is often this apparent inconsistency where there is a work in the conscience and the affections. God becomes necessary to us, and yet conscience says, I am too sinful. Peter felt his own worthlessness, and that Jesus was too holy, too righteous, to be with such an one as he; and yet he could not help going to Him.

The poor prodigal comes to himself again. All seems well in the far country, while he is spending his substance. But there is soon a "famine in the land;" and there is many a poor soul finding nothing to satisfy it, who knows what a famine is. Man's heart was made for God, and there is nothing to satisfy without Him. This was a case of real wickedness. It is not that everybody runs to that excess; but the Lord puts the case, that sinners, however vile, may know what to trust in that they can return. When he comes to himself, he says, The servants have "enough and to spare; and I perish with hunger." There is goodness in God, and badness in me. However wise and clever a man may be, there is no conscience-work, and hence no real work, till he comes to that point, There is goodness in God, and badness in me.

"When he came to himself," there is a total change. He was like a mad man before; identified with the place where the famine was. The goodness of God comes into his heart, he says, "How many hired servants of my father have bread enough and to spare?" Not, I shall get it, or I would like to have it, or How should I be received? But the sense of goodness is awakened in the soul, and this produces a want of another kind - a sense of the blessedness of God! When the Holy Ghost works in the soul, there is always a want. I want more holiness, more grace, I want God. He sees blessedness with God, and would give anything to be back with Him. The servants had bread enough and to spare; there is goodness with God.

Now we begin the work of God's goodness. He comes to himself, before he comes to God.387 "And coming to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father's have abundance of bread and I perish here by famine." It is God giving him the conviction of his state. Hence his feeling is that even those who have the lowest place in his father's house are well and even amply provided for compared with him. "Here": so Edd., after ℵBDL, some cursives (1), Syrr. Old Lat. Vulg. Memph. The word is not in APX, etc., nor in most cursives (as 33, 69).

His mind was made up. "I will rise up and go to my father, and I will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven388 and before thee; I am no longer worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants." The last words betray the usual legal state. It is one who conceives that God must act according to his condition. This grace never does. He had wronged his father, he had been guilty of folly, excess, and lewdness; and he could not conceive of his father doing more for him at best than putting him in the lowest place before him, if he received him at all. He felt that he deserved humiliation. Had he judged more justly, he would have gathered that he deserved much worse; that the more favoured he was, seeing that he was so guilty, he must be put away — not merely go away, but be put into outer darkness where should be the weeping and the gnashing of teeth. Before "I am no longer," EG, etc., most cursives, Syrr. have "and," which Edd. omit, after ℵABDK. etc., 1, Old Lat. Sah. Memph.

It is in such a case that divine grace begins its wonderful work. The young man "came to himself." He was stirred to remember his father's house with its plenty, even for servants. A change took place, and the pride of the young man was finally broken. He decided to go to his father with an honest confession, "I have sinned against heaven and before you, and I am no longer worthy to be called your son." He hoped to be taken in merely as a hired servant.

Look at the prodigal as he arises from the swine field to go to his father; his burdened conscience and the load of shame that weighs upon his soul make the going heavy; his need drives him homeward but he does not run, and often he hesitates, for he has gone so far away that it seems impossible that he should ever reach his father's house again. It would be impossible if it depended on his efforts, or even upon the sincerity of his repentance, but another and a greater factor enters the story, it is the father's love. "When he was yet a great way off" — the word is the same as the far country — "his father saw him," — How keen are the eyes of love! "And had compassion on him" — How tender is the heart of love! "and ran," — How swift are the feet of love! "and fell on his neck and kissed him." Love cannot be restrained. He covered him with kisses, for that is the word. Consider well the activity and extravagance of the father's love

For, "when he was yet a long way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him." How it speaks of the way in which the father's heart had retained his image that he could recognize him in the distance, returning in such a different manner from that in which he had set out. Watching for him too, as it would seem and when he saw him, forgetting all but that this was his son returned, in the impetuosity of irresistible affection, as if he might escape him yet, and he must secure him and hold him fast, running, and, in a love too great for words, falling upon his neck and making himself over to him in that passionate kiss! It is GOD of whom this is the picture! What a surprise for this poor prodigal! What an overwhelming joy for those who are met thus, caught in the arms of unchanging, everlasting love, — held fast to the bosom of God, to be His forever!

It is not the son who runs; but, even though a long way off, the father saw him. It was the father ran and fell on his neck and kissed him. The son would not have dared to have done so, still less would he have expected his father to do so. But grace always surprises the thoughts of men, and therefore reason can never find it out, but rather denies and opposes and enfeebles it, qualifying it, putting clogs and fetters on it, which only dishonour God, and do not alter the truth, but most surely injure the man. The father, then ran389 and fell on his neck and kissed him. Not a word about his wicked ways! and yet the father it was who had wrought secretly, producing the conviction of his own evil and the yearning after his own presence.

Further, it was the father who deepened all that was of himself in his own soul immensely, now that the prodigal was come to him. It is not true, therefore, that by not putting forward the evil in this case our Lord implied that the father was indifferent to the evil, or that the prodigal son was not to feel his outbreaks or his fleshly nature.389a Surely it should be so much the more, because it was allowed him to judge himself and the past in the light of unspeakable grace. "And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee: I am no more worthy to be called thy son." He cannot say more. It was impossible in the presence of the father to say "Make me as one of thy hired servants."†390 It was well, as far as it went, to acknowledge that he was no more worthy to be called his son. It was unqualifiedly right to say, "I have sinned against heaven and before thee"; but it would have been still better if he had said not a word about anything of which he could be worthy or unworthy. The sad truth was, that he was worthy of nothing but bonds or death. He deserved to be banished for ever — to be driven out from the presence of his father. E, etc., 33, 69, Syrr. have "and I am n. l.," which Edd. reject, after ℵABD, etc., Old Lat. Memph. †W. H. add these words in brackets: after ℵBD, etc., Syrhcl Aeth., which Tisch. and Treg., both of whom cite Augustine, followed by Weiss and Blass, reject as interpolation from verse 19. They are supported by ALΔ, etc., Latt. Syrrsin pesch hier. See further, note 390, in Appendix.

257 But the proposal in the heart of the young man was distinct. He felt he had forfeited all title to be son, wasted it wickedly, did not really see the extent of his guilt, nor the extent and riches of divine grace, though drawn by it, and, therefore, he proposes to be made as a hired servant. This is always the case. There is in this state a profound principle of moral rectitude, but entire ignorance of the ways and grace of the Father. But he rises and goes, for there is a principle of living activity. What follows is not the call of the sinner, but the reception by the Father, and His view of the matter - just compassion and tenderness - His heart was in the matter while the poor prodigal was far away yet occupied with his own thoughts, proposing to be servant, determined in grace, but humbled, perplexed, and degraded in his own eyes, though the thought of his Father's house and goodness, and his own need predominated. But, if there was doubt as to his reception in his heart, there was none in the Father's. A great way off He saw. Whose eye so quick as a Father's in love? And had compassion. No question here of dignity, of severity of judgment. He must relieve His own heart, full at the thought of His son returned, in showing him love. He ran and fell on his neck. First, love to him in his wretched and ruined state, far from the servants, from all. He must encourage and restore a child's heart in showing a Father's; thence it must flow. It became Him to be the Source and first in grace. Without reproach or enquiry, He, the Father, expresses what was in His heart - the more terribly he was lost, the greater the joy of the Father to receive him back. This passed entirely between the Father and the child. Then the affection can flow forth unhindered for restoring the soul. The son's mouth was opened for confession, but opened with a word which now had infinite power, for the expression of the Father's love came first, before a word of confession - was not caused by it, but the expression of what was in His heart finding its joyful occasion in returning sorrow. "Father, I have sinned." The love made the confession much more, infinitely more profound, yet withal much more easy and sweet. It was no expression, remark farther, of suffering or of consequences, not concern for character, no excuse nor explanation. "Father, I have sinned": not before men - they were forgotten in the sense of the Father, for the sense of the sin brought into relationship with the Father, and that possessed his thought - "against heaven and before thee." Far from the Father, the poor prodigal had well arranged his purpose to say: "Make me as one of thy hired servants," content to be in a lower place, as those under the law. But, come to the Father, these thoughts were impossible. It would have been to dishonour the expression of his Father's love; his tongue hung there suspended by the sense of a Father's love which embraced him. Could he say to a Father so loving: 'Set me far from you, do not make me a son in your love'? Impossible! It was not the time for such thoughts. Far from the Father we can reason so in our minds, but not when thus received and met by Him. Nor did the Father give him time, but, in lieu of setting him among mercenaries, all the servants of the house are called out to wait upon him.

With fixed resolve he started to return, and the first one that he met was his father. He had seen him a great way off. He was moved with compassion toward him. He ran; he fell on his neck; he kissed him. Not a moment was he to be in doubt of the character of his reception. His father had seen him, not he his father, that we read of. His father was moved with compassion toward him. He did not wait for his son to reach him. He ran to his son! The father's feelings, the father's readiness — might we not say eagerness? — to receive the prodigal, these are points to which our attention is turned. And ere the son could utter the words of confession which he had intended, he was in his father's embrace, and had received his father's kiss! He was welcomed back.

Now he confessed his guilt: "Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son." All perfectly true. But he was already in his father's arms, where only a son could find himself. His confession was right. It was enough. He would have said more, but he could not. For now his father spoke, not to him, but to the servants. Would he assign him a place with them, unworthy indeed as he was to be called his son? No. He spoke, but in quite a different strain: "Bring forth quickly" (as we should here read) "the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: and bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry: for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found" (vers. 22-24). Nothing too good for the prodigal, who had returned confessing his sin. The best robe, a ring, and shoes, all were to be brought out for him, who was yet outside the house, where his father had met him. Clad, shod, and adorned with the ring, he recrossed the threshold of that house which he had in wilfulness left. Nor was that enough. Feasting must take place, so the fatted calf was to be killed; and throughout the house gladness was to reign. "They began to be merry." But there was no end to it. We learn the occasion of it, and of the time of its commencement, but never of its cessation. The joy and gladness were not transient, mere emotions of the hour, to give place to sorrow and vexation, as is so often the case with us. With the shepherd, with the woman, with the father, it was the same. Rejoicing over that which had been lost but found begins, and that is all that is told us, leaving us to draw the conclusion that it never ends.

But then, sin has completely separated men from God, as we have seen in this very parable. Grace brings into the nearer and better relationship of "sons of God by faith in Christ Jesus." (Gal. 3:26.) The prodigal only enters this state when he at length comes back to his father, confessing his sins and casting himself upon Divine grace.391a The best robe, the ring on his hand, the shoes on his feet, the fatted calf, all these belong, and belong solely, to the relationship of grace, to him who is born of God by believing in the name of Jesus. It is God magnifying Himself to the lost. "For this my son was dead,392 and has come to life, — was lost, and has been found. And they began to be merry."

Verse 24 proves that this case is one of a lost and ruined soul being brought to God and saved. He was dead, having no spiritual life, but now alive. He was lost, totally away from God, but now found. These things could not be said of a believer who simply needed restoration. "And they began to be merry." Such joy begins with conversion and goes on for eternity. But there are eight points that describe the conversion of the young man: (1) revived -- v.17, (2) remembering -- v.17, (3) resolved -- v.18, (4) repentant -- vs.18-19, (5) returning -- v.20, (6) received -- v.20, (7) restored -- (v.22), and (8) regaled -- (v.23).

Christ, as the food of God, is presented to us in the burnt-offering. What did Manoah and his wife see? They saw it was all for God. God has found infinite satisfaction and delight in the work of the cross. It all went up a savour of infinite sweetness to God. But God has called us in to share in our measure in this His own delight in Christ and His work. There is a meat-offering. He has given to the believer that same blessed Christ to be the continual food of his soul. Christ is the fatted calf of Luke 15. God says, "Bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry." Who are the "us" here invited to "eat, and be merry"? It is the Father and the returned prodigal son. God says, "I have found my delight in Him, and now do you come and find your delight in Him too." Thus by His own request I feed upon what the Father feeds upon.

Now, as it were, God says, I am content; I have made that person as happy as he can be. You never get a word about the prodigal son when he comes to the father (a deal about him when he is coming), but you hear about the father, and his joy in having him. The poor prodigal was happy enough; but it is not "meet to make him happy" (he had the best robe), but it is meet to make merry and be glad; for this my son was lost and is found. He tells it to us that we should know it: it was meet that He should make merry and have all glad around Him, because this poor sinner had come back. There is no hindrance to the full satisfaction of His soul, His own joy to have this one in.

In the tripartite parable of Luke 15 our Saviour illustrates this in a divinely wonderful way. It is the chapter of divine merrymaking! The straying sheep shows us the wandering sinner; but the lifeless silver illustrates the dead sinner: then the wayward and repentant son pictures both in one—he was lost and found, dead and alive again! After the first and second it is explained that there is joy over one sinner that repenteth;—the joy in heaven begins the moment one repents! In the third however we see fullness of joy reached, when the once repentant sinner, now clothed in the best robe, is in his Father’s presence, in a new way calling Him “Father,” who says, “Let us eat, and be merry: for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost and is found.” We are then told, “They began to be merry!” Previously it is said, “He began to be in want!” That beginning ended when he came to his father, but the other knows no ending. The believer on the Son has “passed from death into life.” He has eternal life in the Son; and he is given to know the Father, that his joy may be full.

However, the elder son spoiled everything for himself by his self-importance. Returning from the field (typical of the world, for the world can have a religious side too, outwardly in near proximity to God), he heard music and dancing in the house. He had not been near enough to know the father's joy, so he inquired of a servant (v.26). But the glad reception of his brother only angered him and he refused to enter the house (v.28)

But here we have a farther picture,393 "And his elder son was in the field; and as, coming up, he drew nigh to the house "he heard music and dancing." The joy of true Christian worship, of living fellowship in grace, is unintelligible to the natural heart. This was what struck repugnantly the ears of the elder son. "And having called one of the servants, he inquired what these things might be." He could have understood debt, he could have urged right, he could see and pronounce on failure; but he did not scruple to judge God Himself, as we shall see. The servant "said unto him, Thy brother is come, and thy father has killed the fatted calf, because he has received him safe and well." But he became angry, and would not go in. "And his father went out and besought394 him." His heart was outside the home of his father, nor did he breathe the spirit of the love that was being shown to the returned prodigal. He was a stranger to grace, so he had no part in all this joy. He was pursuing his own things. No doubt he was active and intelligent "in the field," in the world, away from the scene of Divine mercy and spiritual joy. "And": so Edd., after ℵABDL, etc., 1, 33, Old Lat. Goth. Memph. Arm. E and most of the later uncials, nearly all cursives (69), Syrr. Amiat. and Vulg. have "therefore."

In the elder son the Lord vividly portrays the self-righteous, the murmurers against grace such as the Pharisees and scribes; and they are many in every age, especially where scripture is current and men boast of religion. As he is represented returning from the fields and approaching the house, the music and dancing there struck his ear offensively, when he learnt from a servant that it was his father's joy over his returned brother (25-27). He was angry and would not go in (28). And when his father went out and entreated (for what will not grace do?), he answers with self-complacency that insulted his father and the object of his compassion as much as it exalted himself. "Lo these many years do I slave for thee, and never transgressed thy commandments; yet never didst thou give me a kid to make merry with my friends. But when this thy son came that devoured thy living with harlots, thou killedst for him the fatted calf" (29, 30). What an answer of patient love the father's! "Child, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry and be glad; for this thy brother was dead and came to life again, was lost and is found" (31, 32). It is the day of grace, not judgment. He who despises grace will be judged another day.

The Elder Brother. — Brightness and joy was reigning in the house. Now a cloud appeared on the horizon. The elder brother was returning home; and hearing the sound of music and dancing, he inquired what was the cause of it. He was told, "Thy brother is come; and thy father has killed the fatted calf, because he has received him safe and sound." "Thy brother," "Thy father," these words should have evoked gentle and kindly feelings from him. On the contrary, opposition was at once aroused. To his brother's welfare he was wholly indifferent. In the common joy he had no part. He became angry, and would not go in. Then his father came out from the scene of unalloyed happiness to entreat him to come in, but in vain. Puffed up as he was with thoughts of his own goodness, he was angry, and he showed it. The prodigal had addressed his father, and had done it in a respectful way, saying, "Father." The elder brother addressed him likewise, but in language of reproach, and without any recognition of filial relationship: "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 has devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf" (vers. 29-30). An intentional contrast surely was drawn between a calf and a kid, the latter smaller, and of far less value. He had never had even that, though, as he said, years of unremitting faithful service he could enumerate. It is noticeable, too, the contemptuous way he speaks of his brother "thy son;" but not a hint that he was his brother. Such was the character and conduct of the elder brother.

If the younger son pictures the repentant sinner, the elder son accurately represents the spirit of the Pharisee. The one was hungry and went in: the other was angry and stayed out. The arrival of grace always divides men into these two classes — those who know they are worthy of nothing, and those who imagine themselves to be worthy of more than they have got. Said the elder son, "Thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends." So he too found his society and pleasure in a circle of friends outside his father's circle. The only difference was in the character of the friends — the younger son's were disreputable, while his presumably, were respectable. The self-righteous religionist is no more in real communion with the heart of the Father than is the prodigal; and he ends up still outside while the prodigal is brought within.

On the other hand, it was too true that the joy of grace is intolerable to the self-righteous man; he has no heart for God's goodness to the lost; and the scene of joyful communion with the Father provokes in him outrageous opposition to God's way and will. For he is not a self-righteous Christian, any more than the prodigal represents a believer overtaken in a fault. No Christian is contemplated as cherishing such feeling as these; though I deny not that legalism involves the principle. But here it is one who would not come in. Every Christian is brought to God. He may not fully enjoy or understand his privileges, but he has a keen sense of his short-comings, and feels the need of divine mercy, and rejoices in it for others. Would the Lord describe the Christian as outside the presence of God? Accordingly, the elder brother here, I have no doubt, represents such as condemned Jesus for eating with sinners; the self-righteousness more particularly of the Jew, as indeed of any denier of grace.

The Pharisees and publicans murmured. It is a righteous principle, and some may have it in their hearts still, that people must be righteous for God. The Pharisee thinks he has righteousness for God; we have that described in the elder brother. You do not need to be a Jew to be a Pharisee - what the Lord speaks of as a whited sepulchre, full of all uncleanness. The elder brother is the Pharisee in all ages; it is the most hateful thing that exists. A Pharisee has no sense of sin, else he would know that he was a sinner; no sense of holiness, or of love; there is nothing more foreign to the heart and mind of God than his state; it is the most thorough selfishness, and not a thought of anything else - "Thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends." When he says, "Child, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine," he refers to the Jews; the law, the prophets, Christ Himself as coming in the flesh, the worship of God, the word of God, all He had was theirs. The use they made of it was another thing; they had got enough to be proud of it, but not to enter into the Father's heart; that was made known to the servants. "Thy brother is come, and thy father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath received him safe and sound." That ought to have touched his heart. He should have said, If my father is happy it must be right; but he objects to everything. The Father went out even to this Pharisee; but nothing could win the self-righteous man; his heart is unwinable by God! He had no sense of righteousness or holiness, or he would know perfectly well, that if all that was in his heart was brought out, he would be ashamed of himself and go and hide. The Pharisee has no thought of that; he is hypocritical, only making the outside of the cup clean, as if God could not see its inside as well as its outside. But if man's righteousness was the way to God, why should He have given His Son?

When the younger son is restored to his father's house, the elder son is in the field. It is characteristic of him that he is a worker, and a hard worker. All that is due is credited to the busy religion of the Pharisee. But his secret soon comes out: when he hears music and dancing in his father's house, he does not know what to make of it. It is not that he has heard yet of the return of his brother. It is not that he is simply a stranger to grace. But the sounds in themselves are unaccustomed ones: he called a servant, and asked what these things meant." He is the picture of that joyless, cheerless service which finds nothing in God. No pleasures are known as at His right hand forevermore. The soul cannot say, "In Thy presence is fullness of joy." There is work of a certain kind perhaps in plenty, but it is work in the field simply — afar off. Such work is no test of piety; it is only the "work of faith and the labor of love" which are so. And where faith and love are, the soul works amid music, and is never outside the Father's presence. As His grace can be no surprise, so the merry heart sings with melody to the Lord, — "music and dancing" cannot surprise it. Joy is the atmosphere in which we are called to live, — the strength for labor, the secret of holiness. It can lodge in our hearts with sorrow, and abide all the changes of the way. The apostle says, "He that sinneth hath not seen [Christ], neither known Him." May we not say, "He that rejoiceth not, cannot have seen Christ"?

These Pharisees had Him before their eyes, yet saw Him not, — looked into His face, and knew Him not. Theirs was work in the field, while the Father's house was dull and pleasureless. Thus to have it opened after this sort to publicans and sinners could not but anger them — could not but rouse an unwelcome voice in them — a voice they could not but hear, while they would not listen to it. The truth commends itself to men's consciences, when their hearts reject it, hardened through a pride which will not brook humiliation. Did the grace which showed itself so readily to other men refuse them? Nay, the gospel expressly comes out to all, — to every creature — in the same tender tones, addressing itself to all. This elder brother had no door closed in his face. He was angry, and would not go in." Nor was there any thing of indifference toward him, but the contrary: "then came his father out and entreated him."

Is there one who, after having read this paper, can say that divine grace sanctions sin? one in the spirit of the elder brother? (v. 28) I would reply, "therefore came his father out, and entreated him." We see the patience of love towards this wretched man - not merely towards the poor prodigal, but towards this one who shared not in the general joy. The servants were glad; they could say, "thy brother is come," etc. All caught the tone of joy save one. And who was he? The man who thought of self and self-righteousness, who said, "Lo these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment." Take care lest your heart be turning to sourness the love and grace that God shows to a fellow-sinner. "He would not go in." The father reasoned with him; said, "It is (not my son, but) thy brother come back," etc. (love is high enough up for anything) - but in vain. He could not enter into the spirit which actuated all in the house, from the father down to the lowest menial: "he remained without," and had none of the happiness and none of the joy. There was in him manifested opposition of heart to the riches of the father's grace; and this is man.

The father's attitude toward the elder son was just as fully in contrast to the elder son's haughtiness as it had been in contrast to the folly of the younger son. As he had shown kindness to the returning prodigal, so he showed kindness to his critical brother, entreating him to share his own joy (v.28). How sadly self-righteous, independent and intolerant was his answer to his father! He claimed to have served him for many years, never transgressing his commandment, just as Pharisees liked to think they were rigid law-keepers. He complained that his father had never given him a kid so that he could make merry with his friends (not with his father). Yet the father had before divided his living between both sons! Again, if the son had faithfully served him, it was certainly not without renumeration! He had far more than enough to buy a young goat if he wanted it. Moreover, he would have been welcome to eat just as much of the fatted calf as did his brother. But his intolerance toward his brother was bitterly expressed. In fact there was no need of comparing himself with his brother at all, but this illustrates the pride of the Pharisees in despising Gentiles.

Notice again, "Because this thy brother was dead and has come to life again, and was lost and has been found." "Thy brother" is to be observed. God is not in any way disposed to allow the denial of proper relationship. Hence one of the sins that will draw out the last judgments of the Jews is not merely their base ingratitude toward God, but also their hatred of the grace He is showing to the poor Gentiles in their wretchedness and sin. This we find strongly put by the Apostle Paul: "Forbidding us to speak to the Gentiles that they might be saved, to fill up their sins alway: for the wrath is come upon them to the uttermost" (1 Thess. 2:16). They cannot endure that others, dogs of the Gentiles, should hear the Gospel of grace, which their pride of law induced them to despise for themselves.397

"Let us eat and be merry." It is not, Let him eat and be merry. Again, he says, "It was meet that we should make merry and be glad." There was but one exception to the delight in the house. The elder brother (the self-righteous person) was angry, and would not go in. God had shewn what He was in Himself, by His Son, in thus receiving the prodigal: and now He would shew what they were in themselves. We know the Pharisees murmured from the beginning, and the elder brother had no communion with his father: for if the father was happy, why was not he happy too? "He was angry, and would not go in." If such a vile person as the publican gets in, this makes my righteousness go for nothing! It is truly so; for where God's happiness is, there self-righteousness cannot come. If God is good to the sinner, what avails my righteousness? He had no sympathy with his father. He ought to have said, "My father is happy, so I must be." There should have been communion in the joy. "Thy brother is back." That ought to have rung on his heart, but no.

394 Luke 15:28. — "Besought," or "kept beseeching" (imperf.). Adeney: "There is a Gospel even for the Pharisees."

It is logically necessary that Heaven should make merry and be glad, when the son who was lost, comes Home. Luke 15:32. Yes, if the weeping and wailing of hell are a logical necessity: even so the music and gladness of Heaven are also a logical necessity.

Now the unity arising from brotherhood is nothing new. A Jew could speak of it, and Israel under David and Solomon must in measure have enjoyed it. The psalmist writes of it: "Behold, how good and how pleasant a thing it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!" (Ps. 133:1.) All will echo this. The fruit of a tie formed by birth (for "brethren" the psalmist writes of) reminds us that those here contemplated are members of one family, bound together by that bond which nothing can sever, and which no circumstances can really alter. One's brother must remain in that relation whatever may be the vicissitude of his affairs, or the character of his ways. The elder son in the parable was reminded that the prodigal was his brother. (Luke 15:32.) The Thessalonian Christians were exhorted to count the saint their brother, even though he were walking disorderly, and not subject to the Word. Admonition under such circumstances would be needed. That was not to be spared; but the spiritual birth-tie existed, and was to be remembered. Of this they were reminded for their guidance in circumstances, when there was the greatest danger of forgetting the link that God had formed between them. (2 Thess. 3:11-15.)