The Gospel of Luke
Chapter 15
As Jesus continued His journey toward Jerusalem, He collected a crowd that clustered around Him. Naturally, mealtime meant that the growing band would eat together. When the Pharisees and teachers of the law saw this, they presumed that Jesus accepted these people as equals. The rather contemptuous term used for these people would literally be translated, “people of the land.” It meant common people who were not particularly religious. Jesus could associate with such people without being “contaminated” by them, but the ultra-religious Pharisees could not imagine being in association with such people. In response to the curled lips of the critics, Jesus told three parables about “lost” subjects.
We should be reminded that in the Scriptures, there is no printed way to signify emphasis of an idea. We commonly use techniques like italics or bold print to emphasize thoughts, but there was nothing like that in the ancient world. Emphasis was indicated by repetition. Consequently, material in Exodus, Leviticus and Numbers is repeated in Deuteronomy, and material about the family line of David that is found in Samuel and Kings is repeated in Chronicles. In that connection, it’s interesting to note that there are four gospels to tell us of Jesus! Clearly, God thinks this is an important story to tell! The three parables that Jesus told in this chapter deal with a lost sheep, a lost coin and a lost son. Two of the parables make the same point; the third has a somewhat different focus. And again, it is worth noting that in parables, the point is usually found in the very last thing said, much like the punch line of a joke.
Rejoicing at recovery—Luke 15:1-10
The first parable touched on a familiar enough topic. Shepherds routinely pastured their flocks among rolling hills where small open fields would be found between rocky hillsides. Jesus presumed a good-sized flock of 100 sheep overseen by a single shepherd. However, sheep are notoriously unaware of their surroundings and are liable to absent-mindedly wander away from the rest of the flock. If such a thing should happen, it is only reasonable for the shepherd to momentarily panic and then leave the larger group to seek the straggler. That would require him to scramble up and over half-buried boulders, to look in crevices and thickets, and to scan the near horizon. When he finds the sheep (or more likely, the lamb), he happily puts it around his shoulders and returns it to the flock. That evening, when the flock is folded into the sheep pen, he would tell his friends and neighbors about his great joy at recovering the lonely, lost lamb—which would swiftly have been killed and eaten if left unattended. The point of the parable is the joy of the shepherd and the joy in heaven when one lost soul repents of sin and returns to the Father’s protection.
The second parable has as its scenery another topic familiar to the ancient world. A woman often received 10 silver coins as her dowry—and retained them against the disaster of widowhood. This cluster of coins might be made into jewelry, but at all costs the ten must be retained. If a woman came to understand that one coin was somehow missing, it would be as alarming as if a bride discovered her wedding ring missing. The typical four-room house of the day had no windows, and the only light would come from an open door and a smoke hole in the roof for the cooking fire. A woman diligently searching for a lost article would be forced to light a lamp for interior illumination, sweep the stone floor and sift the debris. When she found the missing coin, she would tell the story with relief and great joy to her neighbors and relatives—just as if a misplaced wedding ring
were discovered later. Jesus concluded the parable by repeating the idea He had expressed earlier: this is the way joy is experienced in heaven over a soul who repents. Something of deep and abiding value has been recovered and that alone is cause for joy.
Lack of rejoicing at recovery—Luke 15:11-32
Often called, “The Parable of the Prodigal Son,” this is one of the best-known of Jesus’ parables. It touches on all the great themes of the gospel: sin and rebellion, disastrous consequences, remorse and repentance and the great grace of our Father. None of that, however, is the primary point of the parable.
Subtly, Luke signals that this story is something different from the earlier two. There was no transition between those stories; one immediately followed the other. Yet this parable starts with a literary break, “Jesus continued,” or perhaps, “He said.” Whether we realize it or not, our thinking took a slight shift with those words. And a new story emerged.
It’s a story of two sons (it’s surprising how often a Bible story begins with two sons!) of a wealthy man. Normally in the ancient world, the estate would be divided so that the firstborn son received twice as much as any of the remaining children, although he would also be responsible for the safety and protection and reputation of the clan. In this case, the father apparently split his estate and gave half to the younger son. The hearers would immediately be struck by the poor character of the younger son, to demand his inheritance and then to abandon the family with it. Yet Jesus continued an all-too-familiar trajectory in such a story. The son, of such low character, went away and found other characters equally low who soon devoured his fortune and abandoned him. Once the resources were exhausted, calamity came in the form of a famine.
The son found himself reduced to the deepest disgrace, feeding pigs. And the pigs were satisfied while he was in perpetual want! The hearers of the parable at this point would be thinking that justice was served—the son was getting exactly what he deserved! Jesus continued the story, though, with another predictable plot point. The son realized his condition and considered his former life. Even the lowest servant in his father’s house fared better than him now. So he determined to return, confess his poverty and plead for a job. Meanwhile, the father had apparently each day been diligently looking for the return of his lost boy. And one day his faithfulness was rewarded.
Before the son could complete his speech, his father had run to him, hugged and kissed him and dispatched a servant to bring a suitable robe, sandals and ring—so that nobody else would ever see his son as he had seen him. Orders were given, a feast was prepared, a party began and rejoicing was in the air. And then the older son came home from work. All he could imagine was this rebellious no-good was rewarded with even more riches and honor and a party by the long-suffering father, while he received no great blessing! And he had been so good and faithful and servile, obeying his father’s every whim! The more he considered his injury, the greater his fury grew—and then his father came to seek him, too, and urge him to repent. What a commentary on the soul of the older brother that he could find no joy in the recovery of his foolish brother.
And that is precisely the point of the parable—the last thing said. Why could the Pharisees and teachers of the law find no joy in the repentance of the crowds? When the multitudes heard John’s sermons at the Jordan and turned to God in sincere repentance, why were the religious authorities jealous? When Jesus proclaimed the kingdom of God and healed the sick and cast out demons and the people thanked and praised God for it, why did the Pharisees and teachers of the law find fault with His observance of their traditions? What does it say about somebody who can find nothing to rejoice about in the recovery of a lost and aimless soul?