PRODIGY OR PRODIGAL?
-- Flying The Coop



Perhaps the most compelling parable of the Bible is that of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32).  It not only addresses a host of Old Testament representations of God, His Son(s) and His place in creation, but examines foundational paradigms of the New Testament as well, ironically enough, in the very place where the parable is found.  It should be noted, that in the earliest manuscripts, the moping “other brother” is not a part of the original story, being added much later.  (Editorial license.)  Originally, as soon as dad throws the party, end of story.  It is also our story.


Let’s first examine the subject of our departure from God.  The Genesis version describes a big, angry God, kicking His children out of the garden, while the parable’s version is that of Mr. Prodigal, who thinks he is really Mr. Prodigy, choosing to strike out on his own--and does he ever.  Do not let the distinction escape your notice--it points to culpability.  Is God responsible for placing us in this precarious universe, or, is it a decision of our own making?


Quantum physics tells us that we create our own universe, not the other way around.  If there’s no one to observe it, it doesn’t even exist.  If we hadn’t chosen to separate ourselves from God (on a higher metaphysical level) and leave heaven on a galactic misadventure, there wouldn’t even be a universe. That position is upheld by the parable, placing the responsibility for the separation clearly in the lap of the son.  


Let’s now look at the misadventures themselves.  Was the father in any way responsible for the circumstances the son encountered?  The Old Testament describes a God who interjects Himself regularly to bless us when we’re good, and not-so-much when we’re not.  Nowhere in the parable does the father involve himself at all in his son’s gallivanting about.  The parable corrects any representation of God sovereignly manipulating our circumstances by saying that it  “rains on the just and the unjust alike”.  That’s a pretty hands-off approach.


Genesis tells us that God made the heavens AND the earth (the universe of time and space), and yet Jesus very publicly announced that His (God’s) Kingdom (heaven) was NOT of this world (the universe). Our misadventures occur in an arena not of God’s making, but of our own.   (Note earlier reference to the quantum model of universe creation.)   Considering the abundant life one can have living at home with dad, the “birth and death” reality of the universe makes our meager existence here a striking contrast.


When Mr. Prodigal attempts to compensate for his bad judgment by scrounging around to fill his empty belly, all efforts fall short.  (Notice that divine intervention is nowhere to be found.)  We, too, find ourselves in a continual mode of frantic acquisition, vainly trying to stem the tide of scarcity.  All our efforts resonate with the hollow ring of continual dissatisfaction.  


When the son finally remembers (the only evidence of God found within the misadventure) where three square meals can be found, he turns tail for home.  Taking inventory of his many misdeeds, and evaluating their effects on his family status, he is fully expecting a trip behind the woodshed with the switch, and a long stint slopping the pigs--not unlike our own self-evaluation, further reinforcing our sinner-status.  Consequently, our resume is overlaid with deep foreboding.


But, in the parable, the father considers none of it.  His attitude is unchanged.  “My beloved son has returned home.”  Before Mr. Prodigal even steps through the door the party is on.  Instead of obtaining a complete debriefing of his son’s misadventures (and their compensatory punishments), the father’s love rushes to meet his son.  (Every time we “turn to return”, God’s love rushes to meet us.)   The “fire & brimstone” rendition of God is notably absent.


There are those who would have you believe that after Mr. Prodigal returns home, the father, taking into account his son’s misbehavior, would then appease his own displeasure by ordering his servants to take the OTHER son out back and put him to death.  So goes the love of God?

Thankfully, the story ends on a much happier note.  And so does the truth.  


Make the turn and feel the rush.


Party on.