Watching the Horizon

Going home

The story of the prodigal son and the Father who waited for him.

I don’t know about you, but when I pictured the Father of the prodigal son from the famous Bible story found in Luke, I saw him standing on the porch of his house, his hand stretched flat against his forehead to keep the sun out of his eyes, eyes that were busily scanning the horizon of his vast property looking for his son. 

He looked and hoped with a father’s love. Each day he would go back with fresh hope that one day his son would return to him. I know that he probably didn’t have a porch, okay, I know that he didn’t have a porch, but that’s how I pictured it. What I had never thought of before was that he wasn’t standing in front of a home in the middle of endless land; as a matter of fact, his house would have been one of many in a village surrounded by other families. 

People lived in small towns and villages at that time. They worked the land, tended their flocks, and practiced their trades. The average village might be no more than a few acres and contain several hundred inhabitants. They lived in modest one-story houses of stone.

Each village had a handful of local craftsmen. Most families kept a small number of animals. There was nothing grandiose about that place where he waited.

We know that this father had hired hands who worked for him. We know that he had a fatted calf. And we know he lived in some sort of community of other families. 

The reason I am telling you all of this is that I did some research and found out things I had never heard before. It is always so powerful when God shows me something brand new in a story I have read many times. 

We find the story of the prodigal son in Luke chapter 15. It immediately follows the parable of the lost sheep and the parable of the lost coin. A trifecta of examples of things of great value that have become lost. 

Did you ever notice that all three parables deal with the same subject? Jesus is opening the profound truths of heaven one layer at a time as he shares stories of everyday occurrences to reveal biblical realities to all people. A great teacher helps everyone see the reality of what they teach.

In the parable of the lost sheep, Jesus uses the example of a shepherd. Many men of that day would have immediately related to his story. “What man, if you having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the 99 in the open country and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors saying, ‘Rejoice with me for I have found my sheep that was lost’” He rejoices with his community for the lost one’s return. Jesus says this is what it is like in heaven when a sinner repents; they have a party! 

In the parable of the lost coin, we see a woman who had ten silver coins and had lost one. I always thought it odd that she ripped her home apart diligently to find it. I later discovered that these were not just coins. In those days, women didn’t wear engagement rings, but they were given a headdress with ten silver coins on it. These coins were bound together as a dowry and a headdress for her to wear on her wedding day and thereafter. It would be as if she had lost a diamond from her engagement and wedding ring. In this story, she too, when she finds her lost object, calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, “Rejoice with me for I have found the coin that was lost” Jesus says,  “just so I tell you, there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”

And now we come to the parable of the prodigal son. “There was a man who had two sons. And the younger of them said to his father, ‘father give me the share of the property that is coming to me’ And the man divided his property and gave him his share. Next, the son gathered his belongings and headed out to a faraway country, where he proceeded to squander his inheritance with a reckless lifestyle.

And when he had spent everything, a severe famine came across the country. The son hired himself out to feed the pigs of a citizen there. He was longing to be fed, but no one gave him anything. One day he came to his right mind and thought, “My father’s hired servants have more than enough bread to eat, but I am perishing here in hunger. I will go to my father and say to him, ‘I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy of being called your son, but treat me as your hired servant.“ And he arose and set out to go to his father. 

Here my friends is where the story gets simply amazing! The next verse says, “But while he was a long way off, the father saw him and felt compassion and ran and embraced him and kissed him.” He ordered his servants to cover him with his best robe, put shoes on his feet, and a family signet ring on his finger. He, too, calls for a celebration of friends and family. He orders his fatted calf (the best of what he had) to be prepared for the feast. He said that his son had died, but now he was alive. 

I took a deep dive into the culture of that time, and here is where the beauty and power of this story lay. Anyone reading this then would have known about the traditions of the time, but for me, it was a treasured gift! Let’s take a look together. The first thing that stood out to me was that the father was looking for his son. He had to have been waiting and watching every day to have seen him while he was still far off. But as I said in the beginning, he would have been in his village. Other families and friends would have seen his son walk away. They would have whispered to each other about his whereabouts. They would have heard the rumors that he had taken his inheritance before his father died. This was unheard of! And yet the father had allowed his son to go. 

Under Jewish law, the firstborn son, the prodigal’s brother, would have inherited a double share of his parent’s property as stated in Deuteronomy 21:17. And in Tim Keller's book “The prodigal God,” he states on pages 30 and 45 that, beyond being restored to the family, the younger son also has his inheritance restored, further diminishing the elder son’s estate. 

The bottom line is that the father can do whatever he wants with his property. He certainly didn’t have to give his youngest son anything, but he allowed him his choice to leave. 

Isn’t that how God our father is? He brings us into his family. We receive all that he has. We, too, have an inheritance, but often we want to go live in the world. We yearn to follow our selfish desires and find ourselves far away from the security of family life.

Here is where it gets fascinating. As I have already established, we know that the father stands looking for his son. When he sees him in the distance, the bible says he is “filled with compassion” and  “he runs to him.” 

Compassion is love in action. The father didn’t simply feel feelings of love. He didn’t simply pity his son's suffering or empathize with his plight, but he ran to him! In that time, a middle eastern man never ever ran. If he were to run, he would have had to lift up his robes so he wouldn’t trip. If he did this, it would have exposed his bare legs, which in that culture would have been humiliating and highly shameful. So why did the father run? 

In those days, if a Jewish son had lost his inheritance among the gentiles and returned home, the community would perform a ceremony called a kezahah. They would fill a large pot with burnt beans and break it in front of him and yell together, “You are now cut off from your people.” The community would altogether reject him. They would shun and displace him from the village forever.

When the father ran, he was willing to shame himself by lifting his robes. He ran through his village where everyone could see him. He ran as fast as possible to get to his son before the villagers could get to him! This father ran through his hometown with everything he had in him and with all of his love exposed. 

The villagers seeing this spectacle, would have followed him. Can you picture it, the father sprinting towards his son in an excruciating dance of humility, forgiveness, and pure love? At the same time, the villagers followed with the intent to declare his son an outcast. 

When the father reached his son and embraced him and kissed him, when he placed a signet ring on his hand, sandals on his feet and his best robe to cover his shame, the villagers who arrived at the scene would have immediately known that there would be no kezahzah ceremony after all. There would be no ostracizing his son despite what he had done. Instead of rejection, there would be acceptance. The son came home in repentance. This is what the father meant when he said that his son had been dead, and now he was alive. The traditions of his people had already declared him dead. It was the active love of the father that allowed him to return to a family of life. 

Instead of the ritual of kezahzah there would be a feast! The father ordered a celebration inviting friends and family alike to come to join him in his rejoicing. 

Now let that sink in a moment. We have a heavenly father who loves us enough to take on our shame and cover us with his identity. What Jesus did on the cross for us did just that. We, too, stand off in the distance, covered in sin; we are ashamed for having made choices outside of the kingdom of God. But he looks each day. He scans the horizon looking for His child walking home. And when He sees us, He is so filled with compassion, so overflowing with a genuine love for us, that He lifts his holy garments and He runs. He keeps running until he sweeps us into his arms in an eternal embrace! We are home!

He celebrates, heaven celebrates, the one who was dead but now is alive! We are more than a lost sheep, more than the lost coin promising marriage; we are a child of the Father who is loved beyond measure!

Oh, what an amazing love the Father lavishes on us!