---

He was in a swine pen far from his father and far from home – lost, which is worse than death. At this point in the story Jesus pays a compliment to the human race in saying that the prodigal "came to himself." That indicates that Jesus did not believe in total hereditary depravity, with apologies to Calvinism. Jesus believed that the wayward lad in the pig men had enough good left in him that he could do something about his predicament. He could have a change of heart, turn his life around, and return home. This is what he did when "he came to himself."

  But was he forgiven only if he returned to his father? Was the father’s forgiveness conditional – that is, if the son makes the right response he will be forgiven? Or was the forgiveness unconditional? Was he not in fact forgiven when he was back with the swine, yea, even while he was wasting the family’s wealth in riotous living, and even before he left home?

  I see the parable as implying two answers. The loving father – who represents God in the story – forgave the prodigal really and objectively from the outset of the boy’s waywardness. There was never a time when the lad was not objectively forgiven – absolutely and unconditionally. To put it another way, the prevalence or reality of the father’s grace was unconditional.

  But the prodigal’s enjoyment of the forgiveness – its appropriation – was conditional. It required that the prodigal "come to himself" (repent, have a change of heart) and return to his father. But his return home did not cause his forgiveness. It was not a quid pro quo (something for something). He was already forgiven – objectively and actually. But he was subjectively forgiven – personally and experientially -- when he responded to his father’s loving call, which he sensed in "coming to himself."

  If we think of it as the son hearing the gospel while with the swine – which I think is in the story – it would be something like this: "Joe, do I have good news for you! Your loving father back home has forgiven you, so you’re going to turn your life around and go back home, aren’t you?" I don’t think it was not-so-good news, such as: "Joe, what a mess you’ve made of your life! If you’ll get your life back on track, and return home in humble penitence, your father will forgive you."

  The key to understanding this parable is in Luke 15:2: "The Pharisees and the scribes murmured, saying, ‘This man receives sinners and eats with them.’" The story Jesus told of the loving father and his wayward son was in response to this criticism. If we put ourselves in the place of the scribes and Pharisees – experts in the law – we can understand their complaint. The law made it clear – such as in Psalms 1 – that the righteous were not to have fellowship with sinners. Even the apostle Paul would later say that association with shady characters would corrupt good morals (1 Corinthians 15:33).

  In associating with the outcasts and sinners Jesus was not only acting contrary to Jewish custom, but to Scripture itself. He not only "received" sinners – indicating that he was the host – but dined with them. Table fellowship with sinners! Horrors! These Jewish authorities had a point. Jesus’ behavior was not only unusual for one who was supposedly righteous, but offensive. It was in fact outrageous.

  If we impose ourselves into this highly-charged scene, we can hardly place ourselves alongside Jesus as he tells the story. Nor can we stand alongside the loving father. And certainly we can’t see ourselves in the pig pen with the prodigal son. We can only stand with the Pharisees and scribes, and had we been there – religious as we are – that is where we would be, questioning the actions of this upstart reformer for throwing a party for whores, homosexuals, winos, and the riffraff.

  Jesus tells this parable of the loving father to these critical scribes and Pharisees – and to us – and he is saying, "You are ever so right and religious, and you suppose you are followers of God, but You don’t get it!" We even talk big about God, grace, and forgiveness, but we don’t get it.

  We also stand with the elder brother in the story, who also didn’t get it. He had no problem with his brother returning home. It was the music and the dancing – the party – that bothered him (like Jesus’ party bothered the Pharisees!). And the gold ring, the princely robe, and the fatted calf. The elder son – like all us good, religious folk – believed in forgiveness, but he expected his father to respond reasonably and justly when the good-for-nothing son returned home. Reason and justice would go something like this:

  Jesus tells a story of irrational and reckless grace. It offends our sense of the right way to go about it. The fatted calf and a gala party for an errant and wasteful son! Forgiveness, yes, but in balance. It is the father who now seems prodigal!

  But that’s the point of the story. Profligate grace is too much for us. Jesus is telling us that this is what God is like, this is how he loves, this is how he forgives. But we don’t get it. And that is why – like the scribes and Pharisees – we are offended by the kind of company Jesus kept. He even invited "those kind of people" to dine with him – when he should have associated only with folk like us. Jesus is showing us in his own behavior what God is like, but we have difficulty seeing it.

  We will never understand such grace. We can only accept it, even while we’re overwhelmed by it. It may come only when we realize that we too are with the swine – deprived, depraved, and prodigal in our selfish pride. This may be what Martin Luther meant when he warned against being "a fictitious sinner" – sin boldly, he urged, like the prodigal son. Then we just might comprehend something of the grace of God – grace that is greater than all our sins.

Personal Notes

Ouida and I spent last weekend with Steve and Suzette Molnar in Lumberton, Texas, next to Beaumont. We were there to conduct a weekend seminar on our "Heritage and Destiny," sponsored jointly by the Parkview Christian Church and the Cornerstone Church of Christ, both in Beaumont. These two congregations are anticipating a merger. On Lord’s day I addressed the combined congregations on being a "Community of Hope" as a new congregation. I am confident that by God’s grace – and to his glory -- they will effect a union.

  We went out of our way on our return home to go by Round Rock, near Austin, to visit with dear old friend Cecil Hook, who may be my favorite reformer, one loved and admired by many. His several books on freedom – tens of thousands have been published – have made their mark in freeing Churches of Christ from legalism and sectarianism. It was our first time to see Cecil since the passing of his dear Lea, also a treasured friend. I always get a lift from a visit with Cecil since he is two weeks older than I. I can tease him about being an old man. He is going strong at almost 86, and he tells me his church is the Internet. He even talks about having his funeral or a memorial service in cyberspace. These reformers! He lives with his daughter and son-in-law, Mira and Paul Prince. We got to visit with Mira also, but Paul was on a business trip to Spain.

  All previous essays -- plus other of my writings -- are available at www.leroygarrett.org

[TOP].