The Younger Son Leaves Home

1. The Lost Son & The Painting

When you read about Rembrandt’s life you realize that as a young man, he was very much like the younger son. He was a proud young man, arrogant and very convinced of his own genius. He was brash, self-confident, and eager to explore everything the world has to offer. He loved luxury and money. He made a lot of money, spent a lot, and lost a lot of money. He was hungry for fame and adulation and insensitive to the people around him.

However, his youth was followed by much grief, misfortune, disaster, and sorrow, not unlike the lost son. He lost a son and two daughters. Then his beloved wife Saskia died, leaving him with his 9-month-old son, Titus. His second wife was confined to an asylum. His third wife gave him a son, who died, and a daughter, the only child who survived him. His wife died, and then Rembrandt witnessed the marriage and death of his beloved son. During these years, his popularity as a painter plummeted. He experienced severe financial problems and was declared insolvent. All his possessions were sold in auctions. Rembrandt died a poor and lonely man in 1669.

He painted this painting of the prodigal son in 1666, three years before his death, one of his last paintings. It speaks of a changed man. It is a final statement of a tumultuous and tormented life. As a self-confident and venerated artist, Rembrandt came to the painful realization that all the glory he had gathered for himself proved to be vain glory. The only glory that matters is God’s glory that is found in the Father’s home, and this glory surpasses all earthly glory, wealth, and fame.

Now, back to the parable, Luke 15:11-13a — And he said, “There was a man who had two sons. And the younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of property that is coming to me.’ And he divided his property between them. Not many days later, the younger son gathered all he had and took a journey into a far country …

2. A Radical Rejection

Only when we understand what it means to leave home, can we truly understand the joy of coming home and the love and grace involved. This is a shocking, hurtful, and offensive event. It is a radical rejection of the father and his home. By asking for his inheritance, the son is wishing his father dead. He is basically saying that he cannot wait until he dies, “Could I have my share now?” The word for estate means life or livelihood. The son asks for his portion of what his father’s life will leave him. This is shameful because it brings shame to the family and the father. He openly, before the entire community, humiliated his father, insulted, embarrassed, and cursed him, saying, “I wish you were dead.” By leaving, he abandons his obligation to honor and care for his father in his old age.

This is also a radical, heartless rejection of home. By leaving for a distant, foreign land he breaks with the traditions of his community and culture. He cuts himself loose from the way of thinking, acting, and living that was taught and handed over for generations. He shows disrespect, disregard, and betrayal of his father’s home. He leaves for a foreign place, a world where everything that is good and holy at home is rejected and disregarded.

And the father’s response? He could have chased him out of the house and disowned him, but instead, we see love and grace. He does not respond in kind. He does not retaliate. He loves the son, gives him his inheritance, and lets him go. The father took these blows without recrimination. There is immense sorrow involved in leaving home. There is the sadness, sorrow, and pain of the father. Then there is the misery and sorrow the son experienced. The rags of clothing speak of the misery behind him when he finally comes homes.

3. Our Home

Our home is there where we can hear God’s voice that says to us, “You are my beloved, on you my favor rests.” Our home is the center of our beings where we hear his voice, in our hearts, with our souls. There we hear the voice of love speaking from eternity and heaven. It gives life and love whenever it is heard in faith. When we hear that voice, we know that we are home with God and have nothing to fear. As the beloved children of our heavenly Father, we can walk through the darkest valley and we will fear no evil (Ps 23:4). As the beloved we can participate in Jesus’ kingdom mission. We can heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those who have leprosy, and drive out demons. Having received freely we can give freely (Mt 10:8). As the beloved, we can confront, console, admonish, and encourage without fear of rejection or need for affirmation. As the beloved, we can suffer persecution without desire for revenge. We can receive praise without using it as proof of our goodness. As the beloved, we can be tortured and killed without ever doubting that the love that is given to us is stronger than death. As the beloved, we are free to live and give life, free also to die while giving life.

Jesus made it possible for us to hear God’s voice. The Father and the Son through the Holy Spirit have made their home in our hearts and dwell with us. Jesus prayed to his Father for his disciples, “My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one. They are not of the world, even as I am not of it. Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world. For them I sanctify myself, that they too may be truly sanctified” (Jn 17:15-19). Our true home is with God, and while we are in this world we are home with our Father when we abide, dwell in Christ, and He makes his home, dwell, and abide in us, in our hearts. Faith is the radical trust that this is our true home, has always been, and always will be — with the Father, in Christ through the Holy Spirit, in our hearts, every moment in this life.

Our home is where we hear our Father’s voice. Abiding in Christ, however, we have to learn like the prophet Elijah, that the true voice of love is a soft and gentle voice. It is not in the powerful wind, not in the earthquake, not in the fire, but in the gentle whisper (1 Kings 19:11-13). We can hear this soft and gentle voice of God only when we die to self, surrender control, and allow ourselves to be touched by God’s blessing hands, allow ourselves to hear the voice calling us, “You are my beloved.”

4. Yet, We Leave Home

Yet, we leave home over and over again. There are many other voices calling out to us in this world. They are loud, full of promises, and very seductive. These voices say, “Go out and prove yourself. Love is not free but must be earned.” These are the voices of self and others that tell us to doubt our self-worth, to doubt that we are the Father’s beloved children. They tell us that we will only be loved when we earn it through hard work and effort. They want us to prove to ourselves and others that we are worthy of being loved. They push us to do everything possible to gain acceptance from others and the world. Somehow, we have become deaf to God’s voice as these voices drown out his voice. We leave home when we listen to these voices and lose faith in the voice that calls us beloved. We leave the only place where we can hear God’s voice. Our hearts edge God out and ego, self, takes over.

These voices begin to dominate our lives and pull us into faraway countries. When my job, sport, studies, ministry, career, status, power, fame, wealth, or whatever things from this world, begin to dominate and rule my life, we forget that voice of our first unconditional love. When we compare and compete with others, when we find ourselves brooding about someone else’s success, our own shortcomings, our own loneliness, and how the world is mistreating us, then we have left home. Anger, resentment, jealousy, desire for revenge, lust, greed, antagonisms, and rivalries are the signs that we have left home. We become focused on strategies to defend ourselves and ways to assure ourselves of the love we think we deserve. And so, we move far away from our Father’s home and choose to dwell in a distant country.

We leave home when we deny the reality that we belong to God with every part of our beings. We leave home when we ignore the truth that God created our inmost being, knitted us together in our mother’s womb, that He made us in the secret place, and wove us together in the depths of the earth (Ps 139:13-15). We leave home when we deny the reality that we are indeed carved into the palms of God’s hands. We belong to God because He bought us dearly with the blood of his Son when Jesus’ hands were nailed to the cross. We do not belong to the world.

We leave home when we search for love in the distant places of this world. The world’s love is and always will be conditional. Yes, I love you if you are good-looking, intelligent, and wealthy. I love you if you have a good education, a good job. I love you if you produce much, sell much, and buy much. The world’s love is filled with endless “ifs.” As long as we keep looking for love, our true self, and our true home in the world of conditional love, we will remain hooked to the world, far away from our Father’s home. We become addicted and enslaved to the world. We keep trying, failing, and trying again. The things of this world fail to satisfy our deepest needs and they do not bring us home. They keep us on our futile quests in the distant foreign lands. We have wandered far away from home.

Our leaving home may not be such a defiant rebellion as that of the prodigal son. We leave home in more subtle ways. It is a spiritual leaving of our Father’s home. We become prodigal sons every time we leave home to search for unconditional love in places where it cannot be found. We leave home when we use our God-given gifts, skills, and talents to impress people, receive affirmation and praise, compete for rewards, and seek worldly glory, instead of developing and using them for God’s glory. Beneath and behind it all is the great rebellion of God’s first children, the radical “No” to the Father’s love. The lost son’s and our “No” reflect Adam’s original rebellion — the rejection of God in whose love we are created and by whose love we are sustained.

5. The Father’s Boundless Love

And the only way to end this great rebellion is to come home to the Father’s boundless, unconditional, and everlasting love. He does not force his love on his beloved children. He loves us so much that He gives us the freedom to choose and leave home, even though He knew the pain it would cause both his children and himself. It is love that allowed him to let his children find their own lives, even with the risk of losing them, as some did and some still do. And that breaks God’s heart. And even while we were gone from home, God has never pulled back his arms, never withheld his blessings, and never stopped considering his lost children.

His love has also created a way for us to come home. The outstretched arms of Christ on the cross show his boundless, unconditional love. It shows the way home and takes us home. And there the Father is always looking and waiting for us with outstretched arms to receive us back. There, in his outstretched arms, our waywardness is forgiven, the great rebellion is ended, and the original blessing, everlasting life, is restored. There, in God’s outstretched arms, on the cross, and in the Father’s welcoming embrace, there divine love and mercy transform death into life. And there against the Father’s chest, we have eternal peace and joy. We hear his voice again, whispering in our ears: “You are my beloved, on you my favor rests. Welcome home.”