The Prodigal Son

"Father, give me my share"

One day Jesus told a story about a father and his two sons. The father had a big farm — fields of grain, flocks of sheep, servants, barns. When the father grew old, the two boys would each get half of everything.

But the younger son didn't want to wait. He wanted his half right now. He wanted to spend it. He wanted to be far, far away.

The father did not argue. He did not lock the younger son in his room. He gently gave him his share. And a few days later, the younger son packed a big bag, tossed it over his shoulder, and walked away from home without even looking back.

A long way from home

The younger son traveled a long, long way to a far country. He spent his money on big parties. He bought fancy clothes. He bought fancy food. He made lots of "friends" — all of them laughing as long as the money lasted.

And then, one morning, he reached the bottom of his money bag and — it was empty. Every last coin was gone.

That same week, a big famine came over the land. There was no food to buy. His fancy friends disappeared. He had nothing to eat and nowhere to sleep.

So he went looking for any job he could find. The only one anyone would give him was the very worst job: feeding pigs out in a muddy field. He was so hungry that he stared at the pigs' slop and wished he could eat it too.

"I will get up and go to my father"

Sitting in the mud, the younger son finally came to his senses. He thought about home. He thought about his father. He thought about the servants on his father's farm — even they had plenty to eat. And here he was, starving in a pig field.

He decided to go home. He would say sorry. He wouldn't even ask to be a son anymore. He would ask to be a servant. He stood up, brushed the mud off his knees, and started walking the long road back.

He practiced his speech as he walked. Day after day, mile after mile. He was thin. He was dirty. He was nervous.

The father runs

But this is the most beautiful part of the story.

All those long months, the father had been watching the road. Every morning. Every evening. Waiting. Hoping. Loving.

And one afternoon, while the son was still a long way off — just a tiny figure on the horizon — the father saw him. He didn't even wait for his son to make it the rest of the way. He picked up the edges of his big robe and he ran.

The son started his speech. "Father, I have sinned —"

But the father was too busy hugging him to listen. He called out to his servants, "Bring the best robe — quick! Put it on him! Put a ring on his finger! Put sandals on his feet! Get the fattest cow ready — we're going to throw a party! My son was lost, but now he's found! My son was dead, but now he's alive!"

And the older brother…

Out in the field, the older brother heard the music. He smelled the food. A servant told him his little brother had come home — and there was a party going on.

The older brother was so cross he wouldn't even go inside. He crossed his arms. He pouted. "All these years I have stayed home and worked for you, Father! And you never gave me a goat for a party with my friends! But this one — this one who wasted all your money — gets a feast?"

The father stepped out into the yard and put his arms around the older boy too. His voice was gentle.

That's where Jesus ends the story — with two sons standing in the yard, and a father who loves them both more than they can imagine. Jesus didn't tell us what the older brother decided. Because that part of the story is for everyone who hears it.