Christ in the Prodigal Son
MY BELOVED SON ~ The Christological Meaning of the Prodigal Son
"Christology" is the study of what Christians believe about the person and work of Jesus Christ. Is there any connection between our study of the parable of the Prodigal Son and our Christology, that is, how we understand Jesus? One obvious connection is that the parable was a central part of Jesus' teaching and of Jesus' understanding of the nature of God and the relationship of human beings with God.
But would it be possible to take the connection a step further? Could we see the story of the Christ in the story of the Lost Sons? What is your response to the following attempt to overlay the parable with the story of Jesus? How would you forge a connection between the person of Jesus and his parable?
THE PARABLE OF THE BELOVED SON
rewritten by Lee Magness
There once was a father who had a son, a beloved son. The Beloved shared all things with his Father--his creation of the world and its human inhabitants, and his compassion for them. He was the Father's chosen, his heir. Once the Beloved said to his Father, "Father, thank you for making me all that I am--like you--and for giving me all that I have--all that is yours." The Father was glad he had held nothing back from his beloved son. But soon after this, the Beloved took all that he was and all that he had and journeyed off to a far country.
It was there among humans that he pitched his tent. He became a human, a lowly human, a humble human, a slave to humans. And he gave away everything, extravagantly, prodigally. When he had emptied himself of all that he was and all that he had, he began to feel deep human need. But most of his friends, to whom he had given so much, abandoned him. No one gave him anything. People treated him like a pig, like an outcast. He often thought about his father, about the glories of life in the presence of his father, of life as the beloved, as the heir. It seemed like the sensible thing to do--to go back to his father. But instead he stayed in the far country. Eventually he had given so much there was nothing left to give but to give himself up to death, a cruel death, a shameful death. And he did. He died, slaughtered by the humans he came to serve.
But while he was still a long way off, deep in death, engraved in the earth, his Father, who had never stopped loving him, even in the far country, was overcome with compassion. He raised him from the dead. He highly honored him, with a pure white robe stretching down to his feet. He gave him a name above every name, the highest rank, placing a ring, a circlet of gold, like a sash about his chest. And he gave him sandals, like fine brass purified in a furnace. He slaughtered no animal for a feast. His son himself had already been slain. But there was a banquet, a great banquet, and everyone who came extolled the name of the Beloved. Every tongue professed him as Lord in honor of his Father.
But the Father had other children, too. They were all beloved of the Father, but some of them thought they were more beloved than others, more beloved than the Beloved. They had rejected him when he came among them, they had scorned him when he served them, and they had helped put him to death. The Father sent servants to them, saying, "The Beloved has returned. Your Father is celebrating because, even though he was slaughtered like a fattened calf, he is back safe and sound." But these haughty humans not only refused to celebrate, they refused to believe that he was even alive. So the Father himself went to them. "Please come to the banquet," he said. But they retorted, "We have always served you and obeyed you, but you never gave us a banquet!" Now this, this beloved son of yours, who cavorts with tax collectors and prostitutes…." Finally the Father said to them, "The very reason I let my Beloved come among you was to show you that you have always been my chosen, my beloved. I suffered the pain of his loss so he could give you all that he was--me--and all that he had--mine. The one who died for you is now alive. Now is the time to celebrate. Now is the time to rejoice."
"Christology" is the study of what Christians believe about the person and work of Jesus Christ. Is there any connection between our study of the parable of the Prodigal Son and our Christology, that is, how we understand Jesus? One obvious connection is that the parable was a central part of Jesus' teaching and of Jesus' understanding of the nature of God and the relationship of human beings with God.
But would it be possible to take the connection a step further? Could we see the story of the Christ in the story of the Lost Sons? What is your response to the following attempt to overlay the parable with the story of Jesus? How would you forge a connection between the person of Jesus and his parable?
THE PARABLE OF THE BELOVED SON
rewritten by Lee Magness
There once was a father who had a son, a beloved son. The Beloved shared all things with his Father--his creation of the world and its human inhabitants, and his compassion for them. He was the Father's chosen, his heir. Once the Beloved said to his Father, "Father, thank you for making me all that I am--like you--and for giving me all that I have--all that is yours." The Father was glad he had held nothing back from his beloved son. But soon after this, the Beloved took all that he was and all that he had and journeyed off to a far country.
It was there among humans that he pitched his tent. He became a human, a lowly human, a humble human, a slave to humans. And he gave away everything, extravagantly, prodigally. When he had emptied himself of all that he was and all that he had, he began to feel deep human need. But most of his friends, to whom he had given so much, abandoned him. No one gave him anything. People treated him like a pig, like an outcast. He often thought about his father, about the glories of life in the presence of his father, of life as the beloved, as the heir. It seemed like the sensible thing to do--to go back to his father. But instead he stayed in the far country. Eventually he had given so much there was nothing left to give but to give himself up to death, a cruel death, a shameful death. And he did. He died, slaughtered by the humans he came to serve.
But while he was still a long way off, deep in death, engraved in the earth, his Father, who had never stopped loving him, even in the far country, was overcome with compassion. He raised him from the dead. He highly honored him, with a pure white robe stretching down to his feet. He gave him a name above every name, the highest rank, placing a ring, a circlet of gold, like a sash about his chest. And he gave him sandals, like fine brass purified in a furnace. He slaughtered no animal for a feast. His son himself had already been slain. But there was a banquet, a great banquet, and everyone who came extolled the name of the Beloved. Every tongue professed him as Lord in honor of his Father.
But the Father had other children, too. They were all beloved of the Father, but some of them thought they were more beloved than others, more beloved than the Beloved. They had rejected him when he came among them, they had scorned him when he served them, and they had helped put him to death. The Father sent servants to them, saying, "The Beloved has returned. Your Father is celebrating because, even though he was slaughtered like a fattened calf, he is back safe and sound." But these haughty humans not only refused to celebrate, they refused to believe that he was even alive. So the Father himself went to them. "Please come to the banquet," he said. But they retorted, "We have always served you and obeyed you, but you never gave us a banquet!" Now this, this beloved son of yours, who cavorts with tax collectors and prostitutes…." Finally the Father said to them, "The very reason I let my Beloved come among you was to show you that you have always been my chosen, my beloved. I suffered the pain of his loss so he could give you all that he was--me--and all that he had--mine. The one who died for you is now alive. Now is the time to celebrate. Now is the time to rejoice."