The Prodigal Daughter

For a while now, the story of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15: 11-32) has been one of my favorite parables. I was excited to see it was the lesson I'd be teaching to my 4th grade Sunday School group this week. I think the story resonates with people, because at some point in our lives we can relate to each of the characters. While the message of forgiveness is simple enough for any age to understand, as I've gotten older, I have enjoyed the complexity each character brings to the parable. 

Jesus starts with the younger son asking his dad for his inheritance. Basically, the son is telling his dad he wants him dead so he can have his money. The father, with a broken heart, gives it to him. When the son goes off, he eventually blows through all of his inheritance and is forced to eat with pigs out of a trough. Finally, he comes to his senses and realizes the shame of going back to his father would be far better than eating pig slop. I imagine the son walking back how I do when I get in trouble, head hanging down low with big, sad, puppy dog eyes. Nothing burns me to the core like having to look my parents in the eye and admit I did something wrong.

Even more impressive, to me, is the father. When he sees his son coming home, he runs out to meet him. The Greek word used, dramōn, is the term for footraces in the stadium. The father doesn't just quickly walk or jog, but he races to meet his son. As if that isn't impactful enough, in those days it was shameful for a man of his age and prominence to run. In order for him to run, he would have had to lift up his robe (the correct term is to "gird up your loin" which makes the immature side of me chuckle) in humility, showing his legs. To top it off, the father throws a grand party, killing the prized calf, to welcome back his prodigal son. This is when the parable brings me to my knees, forcing me to wonder why God would be so willing to take on our shame, leaving us with a clean slate and giving us eternity with Him.

As if the younger son and the father don't throw daggers at my heart, Jesus makes it a triple whammy by adding in the older son. The older son, who also received his inheritance after his younger brother asked, has been with his brokenhearted father, working hard while his younger brother was off squandering his inheritance. I would be tempted to say, rightfully so, the older brother is jealous. He hadn't squandered his money, yet his brother was getting a party! The father is faced with reminding yet another son of forgiveness. Oy. Forgiveness. Such a simple word, but when someone has done you wrong, forgiving them packs a punch to your own gut. 

I know the feeling of being the prodigal daughter, all too well. I've "looked at God" knowing the right thing to do, and out of spite I do the opposite, because in the moment it's easy or it feels good. When I finally realized I hit my own darkest moment, I wondered how God could ever love me the same. I wondered why He would ever want me back. Why would He want to call me His daughter? It was then, the father in the Prodigal Son brought me to my knees while tears flowed down my cheeks. Just like the father ran to his son, God races toward us with open arms, longing for us to return to Him. He doesn't love us any less, instead He does us one better, by taking on our shame for us. Like I taught my 4th graders today, the bottom line, everyone needs to be forgiven, even me and even you.