I often have wondered what an interview with the Prodigal Son would reveal to us, so I imagined it would go something like this:
Reporter: Prodigal Son, you are one of the most well-known figures in the Bible. We can all relate to your story of getting lost in sin and then finding our way back home. What made you leave your Father’s house in the first place? You had it made there.
Prodigal Son: I got restless. I took everything for granted, especially my Father’s love for me. I wanted fun, adventure, good times. The world seemed so much more exciting out there than the security and sameness of the family farm. Sin always lures us with promises of happiness that it can never keep. As your modern song says, “You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.” Can you tell me what a “Big Yellow Taxi” is?
Reporter: You are right. Few people fall into sin because they want to make their lives miserable. Sin comes to us disguised as an angel of light, promising us fulfillment, joy, and meaning, but turning away from the Father always leaves us empty. What did you learn while you were out partying it up?
Prodigal Son: Everybody deep down is looking for happiness, for someone to love them, to know that they matter, that their life means something beyond the drudgery of what they think is living. When I was really trapped in the darkness of my sin and selfishness, I could never get enough of what I thought would satisfy me. What I discovered was the emptiness of it all. The parties. The drinking. The promiscuity. The proverbial good times which were never any good at all. My friends and I were all really miserable deep down inside ourselves but were too scared to admit it. If we ever fessed up that we were really lonely, sad, and empty, then what? Stifle those disturbing questions with one more drink, one more party, one more conquest. I was dead inside, but was too terrified to admit it, even to myself, because then what?
Reporter: So, the money ran out, the party was over, your friends left you, and you found yourself feeding pigs on a farm. About as low as a Jew can go, right? Feeding unclean animals, all alone and miserable.
Prodigal Son: All these people I thought were my friends walked out the door the second my Father’s money ran out. I was really duped into thinking that somehow they really cared about me as a person. What a wake-up call. I felt used and manipulated, but then the thought occurred to me that that must be how my Father felt when I demanded my inheritance and ran out the door. I started thinking about my Father and how good I had it at home, how much he loved me. It was like someone was pulling the spindly little thread on my heart and calling me back. I figured my Father would never forgive me, but maybe if I pleaded, he would take me back as a servant. I had nothing to lose, so I got up and walked all the way back home.
Reporter: Then what happened?
Prodigal Son: My Father must have been watching for me, like every day, from the brow of that high hill where I used to play as a kid. I couldn’t believe it! He came running to me, hugged me, and kissed me! We both were crying. I couldn’t stop. I could barely get the stumbling words of my apology out before my Father was getting me new clothes, organizing a big feast, helping me get cleaned up. I can’t tell you how I was feeling. The love was overwhelming, nothing that I deserved at all. That moment made me look at everything with new eyes; the house I grew up in, this old familiar farm, the food, my family, the simple knowing that I was loved, that I had a place here . . . Why couldn’t I have seen it all before? I was so blind and stupid. Now I know that my deepest identity is the fact that I am a beloved son of the Father. That means everything.
Reporter: Your Father really got into it with your older brother. Did your brother ever come into the feast? The parable doesn’t tell us. I have always wondered.
Prodigal Son: I’ll answer your question with a question. If you were the older brother, what would you have done?