How should we react when we perceive that a person is in misery? Jesus gave us the answer in the parable of the Prodigal Son.[i]
Luke recounted an instance when Jesus was eating with known sinners.[ii] This incensed the Pharisees, and they challenged Jesus about the propriety of his actions. Apparently, the thing that disturbed the Pharisees more than sinners living amongst them was the Lord’s willingness to have fellowship with such people. Jesus’ response to the Pharisee’s criticism was his relating three parables: The Lost Sheep, The Lost Coin and The Prodigal Son. The central themes of these parables are the love of Christ, the value he places on a wayward soul, and his disdain for hypocrisy in people who ought to be about the work of the Father. These parables are sometimes called the heart of the gospel. If the gospel doesn’t work on this level, nothing else matters.
When we read these parables, we are drawn to how much value Jesus places on a wayward soul and the effort he is willing to expend to reclaim that soul. But there is a side story that is often overlooked: the story of the prodigal son’s brother—the other prodigal.
We are informed that when the prodigal son finally returned home, his father immediately reinstated the boy into full family fellowship, which was represented by the robe, ring and shoes. Then the father called together his household for a celebration and a feast. Everyone was happy, except one: the prodigal’s brother. Upon hearing the news that the prodigal had returned and was suddenly his equal, the brother reacted with anger and discouragement. Significantly, we are told, he stood outside his father’s house “and would not go in.” The symbolism of remaining outside the Father’s house is striking.
When the father came out to beg the second son to reconsider (notice that the father has now rushed to recover both his sons), the boy complained that he was being treated unfairly. This selfish attitude betrays the boy’s true character. Was he really the dutiful son? Was he really interested in his father and his father’s concerns? If he had been interested in his father’s concerns, why had he apparently abandoned his father to shoulder alone the burden of a lost son? We have no mention of the second son’s waiting with his father, day after day, scanning the horizon for a familiar figure to finally appear. Over the long, agonizing years, did the second son ever kneel with his father to plead for his brother to reconsider his ways and return home?
There are other glaring character flaws. For example, Jesus makes no mention that this brother ever tried to talk his prodigal sibling out of leaving home or thereafter to go out and try to find him. We wonder if he was relieved that he no longer had to associate with his sinful brother. Perhaps his judgment of his brother urged the separation in the first place. After his prodigal brother departed, did the brother continue to criticize his brother’s actions by comparing them to his own? When he received news that his prodigal brother had wasted his substance on riotous living and was now eating with the pigs, did he say in his heart, “Well, at last my brother has received his due”?
I spoke with a prodigal recently. She is sick of her sinful life and wants to come home. She made an attempt recently, quietly sitting alone on the back row of Relief Society. No one came to sit by her; no one shook her hand. She attracted what she interpreted as judgmental glances. You see, in her neighborhood, she is a known sinner. She came to church for love and relief but she was met by Pharisees. Now she is afraid for her daughter, who also wants to return to church, but this daughter is an unwed mother who is struggling to recover from years of drug abuse. And everybody in the ward knows. Both of them could make it all the way home, if someone would rush to their side, help them return, greet them with a robe, ring, shoes, and throw a celebratory feast. At this critical moment, a true friend could make all the difference. The mother and the daughter want to escape the “far country,” stop eating with the swine and return to the full fellowship of home, but they are not sure if their brothers and sisters will welcome them.
Remember, the heart of the gospel message is The Lost Sheep, The Lost Coin and The Prodigal Son. If the gospel does not power to save from incredible distances, it is just a nice philosophy. Jesus gave these parables to defend his preferring to work with sinners over his seeking the fellowship of the self-righteous. He set the perfect example of being about his Father’s business, which is redemption. He always had his antennae up, searching for the one who had wandered, seeking the one who was lost, and patiently waiting and praying for the rebellious one to reconsider and start home.
True sons and daughters of God do the work of their Father. Like Jesus, they plead with their prodigal siblings not to leave home, but when that happens, they go out to find them. They search the mountains and valleys; they shine a light and sweep and seek for their precious missing brothers and sisters. When nothing else works, they sit patiently with their Father and scan the horizon for the first motion of their loved ones’ return. They pray with their Father, hurt with their Father, yearn with their Father, and finally they rejoice with their Father and support him in his decisions when their prodigal siblings come home. In every way, they do as Jesus does: they do the work of the Father. They devote their lives to the plan of redemption. They always have their antennae up, looking for opportunities to bring people to Christ.
All the gospel learning in the world does not compensate for failure to do the work of redemption. Both Paul and Mormon—two witnesses!—taught us that without charity we are nothing.[iii] Charity is a different kind of love; it is the celestial quality of love–saving love. “Charity is the pure love of Christ,” meaning the type of love that comprises the power of Christ to search out, seek, wait patiently, reinstate and rejoice.
True sons and daughters of God are “filled with this love.”[iv] They assume that there are “no coincidences in the lives of righteous people.”[v] They are not afraid to love: “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear.”[vi] Rather, when they encounter someone who is hurting and who wants to come home, they show love unconditionally; they respond with their consecrated time, talents and means to embrace and rescue the tender prodigal.
True sons and daughters of God test their love against the “even if” list.
We might ask ourselves where our love ceases for a family member. Where does our love cease for a non-family member? Where, would we suppose, does God’s love cease? One of the exacting prices of becoming like God is to learn to love “even if.”
Genuine love—charity—saving love—offers returning prodigals a soft place to land. Harsh judgment will turn them away; charity will embrace them and create a network of healing support. If they have no friends, they might return home, but they will not remain.
Hugh Nibley wrote: “The worst sinners, according to Jesus, are not the harlots and publicans, but the religious leaders with their insistence on proper dress and grooming, their careful observance of all the rules, their precious concern for status symbols, their strict legality, their pious patriotism….”[vii]
The worst kind of hypocrisy is to pretend piety and loyalty to God but turn away from the work of God. The prodigal’s brother proclaimed his righteousness, but had never lifted a finger to help his father bring his brother back. Then when his prodigal brother finally did return, he would not accept his brother as an equal part of the family. He judged that his brother was unworthy of the family’s love. He refused to participate in the Father’s work of redemption, but he expected the Father to reward him anyway.
Hypocrisy is at its worst when it rears its head with harsh judgment or idly standing by. Elder Marvin J. Ashton said, “Hate is not the opposite of love. Apathy is.”[viii]
Every prodigal takes a tremendous risk when he (she) makes the effort to come home. He simply does not know if love and welcome await him. A ring, robe and shoes and a celebratory feast are beyond his imagination. More than likely, the prodigal will slip into church quietly the first time, hoping that no one notices the odor on his clothes or his unconventional appearance. Perhaps, prodigals are already among us and have come and gone for a long time. Or perhaps they regularly attend, but retreat to an area where they can sit alone and try to remain unnoticed–somewhere they can silently scream because of the pain they are experiencing.
True sons and daughters of God will do the work of the Father and seek out their prodigal brothers and sisters. True sons and daughters of God will manifest unconditional love, the pure love of Christ that has the power to save. True sons and daughters of God will withhold judgment, and not sit by as apathetic observers. True sons and daughters of God are striving to become saviors in the similitude of the Savior.
My thanks to John Unice and Jerry Garrett who gave me the inspiration for this article.
Parts of this article were adapted from my book, Rescuing Wayward Children. Follow this link to learn more.)
Also, get a sample of my new 5-book series on Zion: The Three Pillars of Zion. Click here.
[ii] Luke 15:1-2.
[iii] 1 Corinthians 1:1-3; Moroni 7:46.
[iv] Moroni 7:47-48.
[v] “Encouraging Advice Prophetic for Couple Embarking on Future,” LDS Church News, 07/11/98.
[vi] 1 John 4:18.
[vii] Nibley, Approaching Zion, 53–54.
[viii] Marvin J. Ashton, Ensign, Feb 1993, 64.
]]>“No greater work has the Lord God of heaven ever undertaken than to save the souls of his children. It is the grandest, the greatest undertaking that ever has been inaugurated”– Elder Rulon S. Wells
Zenos’s allegory of the tame olive-tree gone wayward in the Book of Mormon is clearly symbolic of God’s nourishing and reclaiming the House of Israel. But Israel is also individual people. Therefore, this allegory can be applied to God’s dealings with his individual wayward children. Therefore, as we explore this allegory, insert the name of your wayward loved one in the place of the olive tree.
Consider the following letter from “Once Devastated and Now Grateful Mother.”
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Dear Larry,
I am the mother of six children–four girls and two boys–all born during a nine year span. Because they were close in age, one child’s behavior had an affect all the rest. We were a close family. We had a boat, water-skied, snow-skied, hiked, and played together. We also all worked together; cleaned house and did the yard work, with everyone assigned part of the task. We went to church every Sunday, and were a close-knit family, in a healthy, happy way. My husband was a good man; a good husband and father. However, his job required that he go out of town frequently, and I was often dealing with our children on my own.
The oldest boy, Scott (name changed), had been a difficult child, from the time he was a baby. It was exhausting to be his mother. He was my 4th child, so it wasn’t that I was inexperienced, but I went to bed exhausted, night after night, from dealing with him. He drained more of my energy than the other five children. He seemed to delight in tormenting his younger brother and sisters. When a particular older sister walked into a room where he was, the instant tension was palpable, and all of us felt it. We couldn’t even hold Family Home Evening for more than a few minutes without his disrupting everything. It was daily chaos.
One night, in despair, I wondered if we should send him to a foster home. It was a shock to me that I had even thought of something like that. But Scott’s behavior just wasn’t fair to the other five children; it wasn’t right that they should suffer unrelenting torment. That night I prayed earnestly to know if sending him to a foster home was the right answer. I was at my wit’s end, and I was desperate to find a rational answer. I asked the Lord why Scott had come to our family.
Then the answer quietly came into my heart and mind: The Spirit whispered that I was the only one who would love him no matter what he did, and that he needed to have every opportunity to succeed in this life. I was to give him that. It was a profound answer that soothed my troubled heart, and encouraged me to look for other ways to work with my son.
My husband and I went to work. We had to teach him discipline and responsibility without breaking his spirit. With a lot of prayer and hard work, we made it through his teen-age years. After that, he still had years of ups and downs, and trials, mostly of his own making. He will turn 40 soon. He is now married and has a cute family. He is a wonderful husband and father. It gives me so much joy to see him amazingly happy and more contented than I had once thought he could possibly be. His wife is perfect for him, and we all love her so much. We all love Scott, too, like we always wanted to. Now when our family gets together, it is truly a joyous occasion. We have love in our home.
Once Devastated and Now Grateful Mother
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When we are first introduced to the olive tree in Jacob 5, we are led to understand that this tree was a favorite of the Lord of the vineyard, who represents God, the Father. Evidently, this was a tree that he had lovingly nourished for a very long time. Then, as the tree grew, a crisis occurred-the tree “began to decay.” Alarmed, the Lord made an exerted attempt to save it. This was the first of his many attempts and his many long time periods of waiting. As each redemptive episode is described, so is the Lord’s character revealed.
The Lord’s first attempt to save the tree spanned “many days” while he diligently pruned, dug about and nourished the tree that “it perish not.” Interestingly, as a strategy to save the tame tree, the Lord allowed it to mix with a wild olive-tree to preserve the tame tree’s root, the only part that had not yet decayed. This procedure might seem abhorrent to some observers.
Equally disconcerting is the Lord’s willingness to cut away the corrupted parts of the tame olive-tree and cast them into the fire. If anyone except the Lord were doing this, we might question that person’s sanity. But the Lord’s ways are not man’s ways; obviously he had a well-thought-out and often violent plan to save the tree, and he was willing to take the long view and give the redemptive process time to work. In allowing the tame tree to mix with the wild tree, he was attempting to save the undecayed part by any means available, even if that meant his temporarily allowing otherwise unthinkable co-mingling. Although the Lord knew that the tame tree would bring forth wild fruit for a time, nevertheless, he was in control of the eventual outcome. In the meantime, he was willing to do whatever he had to do with present resources to save the tree.
Zenos is careful to describe the Lord’s character as the prophet unfolds this allegory. For example, at every step the Lord is “grieved that he should lose the tree,” indicating the Lord’s deep affection and commitment for his creation. Zenos lists the Lord’s multiple efforts to save the tree, and Zenos also emphasizes that each of the Lord’s efforts is followed by long periods of the Lord’s waiting to assess the tree’s progress. Although each effort results in a failure or a complication, the Lord does not give up. Rather, the Lord starts over with more digging about, pruning, and nourishing; he is always working to preserve the good parts of the tree.
Over time, the Lord guides the tree (or segments of it) on an extensive and agonizing journey. The tree (or segments of it) ends up all over the vineyard, some segments end up in the “nethermost parts” of the vineyard and in “the poorest spot in all the land.” The parable of The Prodigal Son calls the nethermost parts the “far country.” But even in these remote areas, the Lord knows where the tree is and how to bring it back.
Periodically the Lord performs extreme surgery to save the tree; segments are cut away and burned or transplanted in what might otherwise seem desperate or chaotic attempts. Finally, with its grafted-in wild branches, the tree appears so broken, fragmented and disfigured that it no longer resembles its original self. At one point, when we finally allow ourselves to feel the tiniest hope that progress is being made, we discover that the tree’s roots and top are out of balance and threatening its survival. It is as though Zenos is trying to tell us that the body and mind/spirit are working contrary to each other.
Worse, the tame branches that the Lord had tried preserve in another part of the vineyard have now become corrupt and overrun with wild branches. Yet another surgery is needed. We wonder: Who could ever put this tree back together and cause it to bring forth good fruit again?
An amazing thing happens here: “And it came to pass that the Lord of the vineyard wept, and said unto the servant: What could I have done more?” In tears, the Lord then reviewed all that he had tried over long periods of time to save the tree, and now he mourned that the tree not only continued to bring forth “evil fruit” but it had corrupted the trees near it. Contemplating such a dire situation, God wept!
Who would not?
After all his efforts and endurance, the perfect, long-suffering Lord lamented that he seemed to have no other option except to hew down the tree and those that it had corrupted and cast them all into the fire. In the Doctrine and Covenants, the Lord speaks of this condition of exasperation as it relates to his dealing with his stubborn, unrepentant, wicked children. He states that these people even try the patience of the angels of heaven, who finally are compelled to cry out enough is enough! “Behold, verily I say unto you, the angels are crying unto the Lord day and night, who are ready and waiting to be sent forth to reap down the fields.”
Then, when the Lord had fully intended to cast the corrupt tree and its companions “into the fire that they not cumber the ground of the vineyard,” the mediating servant (Jesus Christ) stepped forward and pleaded, “Spare it a little longer.” The character and mission of the Savior are revealed here. The Savior has suffered for these wicked ones and he does not want his sacrifice to have been for naught. He suffered for their misdeeds and he overcame everything that stood between the wayward one and exaltation, if they would repent and come back to him.
Therefore, the servant, who represents the Savior, pleaded with the Lord of the vineyard for more patience and clemency for the corrupt tree. Eventually, he convinced the Lord of the vineyard, who was still grieved to lose his tree, to try yet one more time.
At that point, the Lord of the vineyard came up with a final elaborate plan. (Notice that he (the Father) is the one who devises the plan and is in charge of its execution). The plan involved yet another major surgery on the tree. The plan also would encompass the width and breadth of the vineyard.
Together, the Lord and his servant set out again to graft and pluck and work with every segment of the tree from its roots to its branches. Their combined effort was beyond anything that had previously been attempted. It required segregating the tame tree from the wild ones, which now had fulfilled their purpose and were destined for the fire. The plan called for the Lord’s enlisting other servants-earthly and heavenly servants–to help. This massive effort was shaping up to be a full-court press to save the tree by means of every resource that the Lord could assemble. “Wherefore, let us labor with our might this last time,” the Lord told his servants. “Prune…graft in the branches…dig about…dung them once more, for the last time….” The Lord instructed his servants to pay close attention that the tree would achieve balanced growth–its roots proportionate to its top. As the servants helped to nurse the tree back to health, they were to carefully clear away any bad branches and nourish the good ones.
The Lord’s enormous effort, which had spanned his kingdom and involved vast amounts of time and resources, ended with the full restoration and redemption of his one beloved olive-tree, “which was most precious unto him from the beginning.” Now and forever this saved one would produce good and natural fruit.
Can we not see in this parable the Father and the Son’s effort to save the one? They are willing to work together and expend vast amounts of time, effort and resources to achieve their objective. In the process, they experience the full range of emotions, including exasperation. Nevertheless, they are always willing to try one more time and enlist both heavenly and earthly help to rescue their precious tree. In the end, they succeed. They have taken every necessary step to salvage the good parts of the tree then bring everything together in a perfect, balanced form so that the tree will bring forth good fruit forever.
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