The Prodigal’s Climax

The Prodigal's Climax

(No. 2414)

INTENDED FOR READING ON LORD'S DAY, MAY 26, 1895.

DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON, ON THURSDAY EVENING, MAY 19,
1887.

"When he came to himself." Luke 15:17.

THERE are different stages in the sinner's history and they are worth
marking in the prodigal's experience. There is, first, the stage in
which the young man sought independence from his father. The younger
son said, "Father, give me the portion of goods that falls to me." We
know something of that state of mind and, alas, it is a very common
one! As yet there is no open profligacy, no distinct rebellion against
God. Religious services are attended, the father's God is held in
reverence, but in his heart the young man desires a supposed
liberty–he wishes to cast off from all restraint. Companions hint that
he is too much tied to his mother's apron string. He, himself, feels
that there may be some strange delights which he has never enjoyed and
the curiosity of Mother Eve to taste the fruit of that tree which was
good for food, and pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to
make one wise, comes into the young man's mind–and he wishes to reach
out his hand and take the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good
and Evil, that he may eat thereof. He never intends to spend his
substance in riotous living, but he would like to have the opportunity
of spending it as he likes. He does not mean to be a profligate, still,
he would like to have the honor of choosing what is right on his own
account. At any rate, he is a man, now–he feels his blushing honors
full upon him and he wants, now, to exercise his own freedom of will
and to feel that he, himself, is really his own master! Who, indeed, he
asks, is Lord over him?

Perhaps there are some to whom I am speaking who are just in such a
state as that–if so, may the Grace of God arrest you before you go any
further away from Him! May you feel that to be out of gear with God–to
wish to be separated from Him and to have other interests than those of
Him who made you–must be dangerous and probably will be fatal!
Therefore, now, even now, may you come to yourself at this earliest
stage of your history and also come to love and rejoice in God as the
prodigal returned to his father!

Very soon, however, this young man in the parable entered upon quite
another stage. He had received his portion of goods–all that he would
have had at his father's death he had turned into ready money–and
there it was. It is his own and he may do what he pleases with it.
Having already indulged his independent feeling towards his father and
his wish to have a separate establishment altogether from him, he knew
that he would be freer to carry out his plans if he did so right away.
Anywhere near his father there is a check upon him–he feels that the
influence of his home somewhat clips his wings. If he could get into a
far country, there he would have the opportunity to develop–and all
that evolution could do for him, he would have the opportunity of
enjoying–so he gathers all together and goes into the far country.

It may be that I am addressing some who have reached that stage. Now
there is all the delirium of self-indulgence. Now it is all gaiety, "a
short life and a merry one," forgetting the long eternity and a woeful
one! Now the cup is full and the red wine sparkles in the bowl. As yet,
it has not bitten you like a serpent, nor stung you like an adder, as
it will do all too soon–just now it is the deadly sweetness that you
taste and the exhilaration of that drugged chalice that deceives you.
You are making haste to enjoy yourself! Sin is a dangerous joy, beloved
all the more because of the danger, for, where there is a fearful risk,
there is often an intense pleasure to a daring heart and you, perhaps,
are one of that venturous band, spending your days in folly and your
nights in righteousness.

Before long there comes a third stage to the sinner as well as to the
prodigal–that is when he has, "spent all." We have only a certain
amount of spending money, after all. He who has gold without limit, yet
has not health without limit! Or if health does not fail him in his
sinning, yet desire fails and satiety comes in as it did with Solomon
when he tried this way of seeking happiness. At last there is no honey
left, there is only the sting of the bee! At last there is no sweetness
in the cup, there is only the delirium that follows the intoxication!
At last the meat is eaten to the bone and there is nothing good to come
out of that bone–it contains no marrow, the teeth are broken with
it–and the man wishes that he had never sat down to so terrible a
feast! He has reached the stage at which the prodigal arrived when he
had spent all. Oh, there are some who spend all their character, spend
all their health and strength, spend all their hope, spend all their
uprightness, spend everything that was worth having! They have spent
all! This is another stage in the sinner's history and it is very apt
to lead to despair, deeper sin and, sometimes, to that worst of sins
which drives a man red-handed before the bar of his Maker to account
for his own blood!

It is a dreadful state to be in, for there comes at the back of it a
terrible hunger. There is a weary labor to get something that may stay
the spirit, a descending to the degradation of feeding swine, a
willingness to eat of the husks that swine eat, yet an inability to do
so! Many have felt this craving that cannot be satisfied. But, for my
part, I am glad when "the rake's progress" has reached this point, for
often, in the Grace of God, it is the way home for the prodigal! It is
a roundabout way, but it is the way home for him! When men have spent
all and poverty has followed on their reckless-ness–and sickness has
come at the call of their vice–then it is that Omnipotent Grace has
stepped in–and there has come another stage in the sinner's history of
which I am now going to speak, as God may help me. That is the point
the prodigal had reached, "when he came to himself."

I. Then, first, A SINNER IS BESIDE HIMSELF.

While a man is living in his sin, he is out of his mind, he is beside
himself. I am sure that it is so. There is nothing more like madness
than sin and it is a moot point among those who study deep problems,
how far insanity and the tendency to sin go side by side, and
whereabouts it is that great sin and entire loss of responsibility may
touch each other. I do not intend to discuss that question at all, but
I am going to say that every sinner is morally and responsibly insane
and, therefore, in a worse condition than if he were only mentally
insane.

He is insane, first, because his judgment is altogether out of order.
He makes fatal mistakes about all-important matters. He reckons a short
time of this mortal life to be worth all his thoughts and he puts
eternity into the background. He considers it possible for a creature
to be at enmity against the Creator, or indifferent to Him, and yet to
be happy! He fancies that he knows better what is right for him than
the Law of God declares. He dreams that the everlasting Gospel, which
cost God the life of His own Son, is scarcely worthy of his attention
at all, and he passes it by with contempt. He has unshipped the rudder
of his judgment and steers towards the rocks with awful
deliberation–and seems as if he would wish to know where he can find
the surest place to commit eternal shipwreck! His judgment is out of
order.

Further, his actions are those of a madman. This prodigal son, first of
all, had interests apart from his father. He must have been mad to have
conceived such an idea as that! For me to have interests apart from Him
who made me and keeps me alive–for me, the creature of an hour, to
fancy that I can have a will in opposition to the will of God, and that
I can so live and prosper–why, I must be a fool! I must be mad to wish
any such thing, for it is consistent with the highest reason to believe
that he who yields himself up to Omnipotent Goodness must be in the
track of happiness, but that he who sets himself against the Almighty
Grace of God must certainly be kicking against the pricks to his own
wounding and hurt! Yet this sinner does not see that it is so and the
reason is that he is beside himself.

Then, next, that young man went away from his home, though it was the
best home in all the world. We can judge that from the exceeding
tenderness and generosity of the father at the head of it and from the
wonderful way in which all the servants had such entire sympathy with
their master. It was a happy home–well stored with all that the son
could need–yet he quits it to go, he knows not where, among strangers
who did not care a straw for him and who, when they had drained his
purse, would not give him even a penny with which to buy bread to save
him from starving! The prodigal must have been mad to act like
that–and for any of us to leave Him who has been the dwelling place of
His saints in all generations, to quit the warmth and comfort of the
Church of God which is the home ofjoy and peace–is clear insanity!
Anyone who does this is acting against his own best interests–he is
choosing the path of shame and sorrow, he is casting away all true
delight–he must be mad.

You can see that this young man is out of his mind because, when he
gets into the far country, he begins spending his money riotously. He
does not lay it out judiciously. He spends his money for that which is
not bread and his labor for that which satisfies not–and that is just
what the sinner does. If he is self-righteous, he is trying to weave a
robe out of the worthless material of his own works. And if he is a
voluptuary, given up to sinful indulgence, what vanity it is for him to
hope for pleasure in the midst of sin! Should I expect to meet with
angels in the sewers? With heavenly light in a dark mine? No, these are
not places for such things as those, and can I rationally look for joy
to my heart from reveling, chambering, wantonness and such conduct? If
I do, I must be mad! Oh, if men were but rational–and they often
wrongly suppose that they are–if they were but rational beings, they
would see how irrational it is to sin! The most reasonable thing in the
world is to spend life for its own true design and not to fling it away
as though it were a pebble on the seashore.

Further, the prodigal was a fool, he was mad, for he spent all. He did
not even stop half-way on the road to penury, but he went on till he
had spent all! There is no limit to those who have started in a course
of sin. He that stays back from it, by God's Grace, may keep from it,
but it is with sin as it is with the intoxicating cup. One said to me,
the other day, "I can drink much, or I can drink none, but I have not
the power to drink a little, for if I begin, I cannot stop myself, and
may go to any length." So is it with sin, God's Grace can keep you
abstaining from sin, but, if you begin sinning, oh, how one sin draws
on another! One sin is the decoy or magnet for another sin, and draws
it on, and one cannot tell, when he begins to descend this slippery
slide, how quickly and how far he may go! Thus the prodigal spent all
in utter recklessness and, oh, the recklessness of some young sinners
whom I know! And, oh, the greater recklessness of some old sinners who
seem resolved to be damned, for, having but a little remnant of life,
left, they waste that last fragment of it in fatal delay!

Then it was, dear Friends, when the prodigal had spent all, that he
still further proved his madness! That would have been the time to go
home to his father, but, apparently, that thought did not occur to him.
"He went and joined himself to a citizen of that country," still
overpowered by the fascination that kept him away from the one place
where he might have been happy–and that is one of the worst proofs of
the madness of some of you who frequent these courts, that though you
know about the great God and His infinite mercy, and know something of
how much you need Him and His Grace, yet you still try to get what you
need somewhere else and do not go back to Him!

I shall not have time to say much more upon this point, but I must
remind you that, like sinners, the prodigal had the ways of a madman. I
have had, at times, to deal with those whose reason has failed them,
and I have noticed that many of them have been perfectly sane, and yet
wise and clever, on all points except one. So is it with the inner. He
is a famous politician, just hear him talk! He is a wonderful man of
business–see how sharply he looks after every penny! He is very
judicious in everything but this–he is mad on one point–he has a
fatal monomania, for it concerns his own soul!

A madman will often conceal his madness from those around him–so will
a sinner hide his sin. You may talk with this man about morals and you
may watch him very closely–yet it may be a long time before you can
figure him out and be able to say to him, "One thing you lack."
Perhaps, all of a sudden, you touch that weak point, and there he
stands, fully developed before you, far gone in his insanity! He is
right enough, elsewhere, but with regard to his soul his reason is
gone!

Mad people do not know that they have been mad till they are
cured–they think that they, alone, are wise, and all the rest are
fools. Here is another point of their resemblance to sinners, for they,
also, think that everybody is wrong except themselves. Listen how they
will abuse a pious wife as "a fool"! What hard words they will use
towards a gracious daughter! How they will rail at the ministers of the
Gospel and try to tear God's Bible to pieces! Poor mad souls, they
think all are mad except themselves! We, with tears, pray God to
deliver them from their delusions and to bring them to sit at the feet
of Jesus, clothed, and in their right minds.

Sometimes the sinner will be seen and known to be mad because he turns
on his best friends, as madmen do. Those whom they otherwise would have
loved the most, they reckon to be their worst enemies. So God, who is
man's best Friend, is most despised, and Christ, who is the Friend of
sinners, is rejected, and the most earnest Christians are often the
most avoided or persecuted by sinners.

Mad people sometimes, too, will rave, and then you know what dreadful
things they will say. So is it with sinners when their fits are on
them. I dare not speak of what they will do and what they will say.
They often pull themselves up, afterwards, and feel ashamed to think
that they should have gone so far. Yet it is so, for they are beside
themselves, even as the prodigal was.

I will not dwell longer on this sad fact because I want to speak on the
next and brighter part of my theme.

II. Secondly, IT IS A BLESSED THING WHEN THE SINNER COMES TO HIMSELF.
"When he came to himself." This is the first mark of Grace working in
the sinner as it was the first sign of hope for the prodigal.

Sometimes, this change occurs suddenly. I was greatly charmed, this
week, by meeting with one to whom this happened. It was an old
fashioned sort of conversion with which I was delighted. There came
into this building, some three months ago, a man who had not, for a
long time, gone to any place of worship. He despised such things. He
could swear and drink, and do worse things. He was careless, godless,
but he had a mother who often prayed for him, and he had a brother who
is, I believe, here, tonight, whose prayer has never ceased for him. He
did not come here to worship–he came just to see the preacher whom his
brother had been hearing for so many years. But, coming in, somehow he
was no sooner in the place than he felt that he was unfit to be here,
so he went up into the top gallery, as far back as he could, and when
some friend beckoned him to take a seat, he felt that he could not do
so–he must just lean against the wall at the back.

Someone else invited him to sit down, but he would not. He felt that he
had no right to do so. And when the preacher announced his text, [See
Sermon #1949, Volume 33–A Sermon for the Worst Man on Earth]–"And the
publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto
Heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a
sinner"–and said something like this, "You that stand farthest off in
the Tabernacle and dare not sit down because you feel your guilt to be
so great–you are the man to whom God has sent me, this morning–and He
bids you come to Christ and find mercy," a miracle of love was worked!
Then, "he came to himself," as he will tell us, soon, at the Church
meeting when he comes forward to confess his faith. I rejoiced greatly
when I heard of it, for in his case there is a change that everybody
who knows him can see! He has become full of a desire after everything
that is gracious as once he practiced everything that was bad! Now that
is what sometimes happens and why should it not happen, again, tonight?
Why should not some other man, or some woman, come to himself or to
herself tonight? This is the way home–first to come to yourself–and
then to come to your God. "He came to himself."

On the other hand, sometimes this change is very gradual. I need not
dwell upon that, but there are many who have their eyes opened by
degrees. They first see men as trees walking. Afterwards, they see all
things clearly. So long as they do but come to themselves, and come to
the Savior, I mind not how they come! Some conversions are sudden, some
gradual, but in every case, if it is the work of the Holy Spirit, and
the man comes to himself, it is well.

Now let us consider how this change happened. If you should ask me the
outward circumstances of the prodigal's case, I would say that it took
a great deal to bring him to himself. "Why, surely," one says, "he
ought to have come to himself when he had spent all! He must have come
to himself when he began to be hungry." No, it took a great deal to
bring him to himself, and to his father–and it takes a great deal to
bring sinners to themselves and to their God. There are some of you who
will have to be beaten with many stripes before you will be saved. I
heard one say, who was crushed almost to death in an accident, "If I
had not nearly perished, I would have wholly perished." So is it with
many sinners–if some had not lost all they had, they would have lost
all–but, by strong winds, rough and raging, some are driven into the
port of peace.

The occasion of the prodigal's climax was this–he was very hungry, in
great sorrow and he was alone. It is a grand thing if we can get people
to be alone. There was nobody near the poor man and no sound for him to
hear except the grunting of the hogs and their munching of those husks.
Ah, to be alone! I wish that we had more opportunities of being alone
in this great city, yet, perhaps, the most awful loneliness may be
realized while walking a London street! It is a good thing for a
sinner, sometimes, to be alone. The prodigal had nobody to drink with
him, nobody to sport with him–he was too far gone for that. He had not
a rag to pawn to get another pint–he must, therefore, just sit still
without one of his old companions. They only followed him for what they
could get out of him. As long as he could treat them, they would treat
him well, but when he had spent all, "no man gave unto him." He was
left without a comrade in misery he could not allay, in hunger he could
not satisfy. He pulled that belt up another notch and made it
tighter–but it almost seemed as if he would cut himself in two if he
drew it any tighter! He was almost reduced to a skeleton. Emaciation
had taken hold of him and he was ready to lie down there and die. Then
it was that he came to himself.

Do you know why this change occurred in the prodigal's case? I believe
that the real reason was that his father was secretly working for him
all the while. His state was known to his father. I am sure it was
because the elder brother knew it and if the elder brother heard of it,
so did the father. The elder brother may have told him, or, if not, the
father's greater love would have a readier ear for tidings of his son
than the elder brother had. Though the parable cannot tell us–for no
parable is meant to teach us everything–yet it is true that our Father
is Omnipotent and He was secretly touching the core of this young man's
heart, and dealing with him by this wondrous surgery of famine and of
need to make him, at last, come to himself.

Perhaps somebody here says, "I wish I could come to myself, Sir,
without going though all that process." Well, you have come to
yourself, already, if you really wish that! Let me suggest to you that
in order to prove that it is so, you should begin seriously to
think–to think about who you are, where you are and what is to become
of you. Take time to think, and think in an orderly, steady, serious
manner and, if you can, jot down your thoughts. It is a wonderful help
to some people to put down upon paper an account of their own
condition. I believe that there were many who found the Savior one
night when I urged them, when they went home, to write on a piece of
paper, "Saved as a Believer in Jesus," or else, "Condemned because I
believe not on the Son of God." Some who began to write that word,
"condemned," have never finished it, for they found Christ, then and
there, while seeking Him! You keep your account books, do you not? I am
sure you do if you are in trade, unless you are going to cheat your
creditors. You keep your business books–well, now, keep a record
concerning your soul! Really look these matters in the face, the
hereafter, death–which may come so suddenly–the great eternity, the
Judgement Seat. Think about these things! Do not shut your eyes to
them. Men and women, I pray you, do not play the fool! If you must play
the fool, take some lighter things to trifle with than your souls and
your eternal destinies! Shut yourselves up, alone, for a while–go
through this matter steadily, lay it out in order, make a plan of it.
See where you are going. Think over the way of salvation, the story of
the Cross, the love of God, the readiness of Christ to save–and I
think that, while this process is going on, you will feel your heart
melting–and soon you will find your soul believing in the precious
blood which sets the sinner free!

III. I had much more to say, but time has gone, so I must close with
just a few words on this last point, WHEN HE CAME TO HIMSELF, THEN HE
CAME TO HIS FATHER.

When a sinner comes to himself, he soon comes to his God. This poor
prodigal, soon after he came to himself, said, "I will arise and go to
my father." What led him back to his father? Very briefly Let me answer
that question.

First, his memory awakened him. He remembered his father's house, he
remembered the past, his own riotous living. Do not try to forget all
that has happened–the terrible recollections of a misspent past may be
the means of leading you to a new life. Set memory to work.

Next, his misery bestirred him. Every pang of hunger that he felt, the
sight of his rags, the degradation of associating with swine–all these
things drove him back to his father. O Sirs, let your very needs, your
cravings, your misery, drive you to your God!

Then, his fears whipped him back. He said, "I perish with hunger." He
had not perished, yet, but he was afraid that he soon would do so. He
feared that he really would die, for he felt so faint. O Sirs, see what
will become of you if you die in your sins! What awaits you but an
endless future of limitless misery? Sin will follow you into eternity
and will increase upon you, there, and as you shall go on to sin, so
shall you go on to sorrow always increasing. A deeper degradation and a
more tremendous penalty will accompany your sin in the world to come!
Therefore, let your fears drive you home, as they drove home the poor
prodigal.

Meanwhile, his hope drew him. This gentle cord was as powerful as the
heavy whip–"In my father's house there is bread enough and to spare; I
need not perish with hunger, I may yet be filled." Oh, think of what
you may yet be! Poor sinner, think of what God can do and is ready to
do for you, to do for you even tonight! How happy He can make you! How
peaceful and how blessed! So let your hope draw you to Him. Then, his
resolve moved him. He said, "I will arise and go to my father." All
else drove him or drew him and now he is resolved to return home! He
rose up from the earth on which he had been sitting amidst his
filthiness and he said, "I will." Then the man became a man! He had
come to himself, the manhood had come back to him, and he said, "I
will, I will."

Lastly, there was the real act of going to his father–it was that
which brought him home. No, let me correct myself. It is said, "He came
to his father," but there is a higher Truth of God at the back of that,
for his father came to him. So, when you are moved to return and the
resolution becomes an action and you arise, and go to God, salvation is
yours almost before you could have expected it, for, once turn your
face that way, and while you are yet a great way off, your

Father will outstrip the wind and come and meet you, and fall upon your
neck, and kiss you with the kisses of reconciliation! This shall be
your portion if you will but trust the Lord Jesus Christ!

As for you Christian people who may be saying that there is nothing for
you in the sermon, do not turn into a company of grumbling elder
brothers! On the contrary, go home and pray God to bless this sermon.
"But," you say, "I have not had the fatted calf tonight." "Oh, but if
it were killed for the younger son, it was for you, also!" "I did not
have the music and dancing tonight." Well, they have had it over the
returned prodigal, over some soul that has already believed in Christ,
tonight–I know they have! God does not let us preach for nothing. He
will pay us our wages and give us our reward! So rejoice with us over
all that the Lord has done, and all that He is going to do! The Lord
bless you, Beloved, all of you, without exception, for Christ's sake!
Amen.

EXPOSITION BY C. H. SPURGEON: LUKE15.

This is a chapter that needs no explanation. It carries its key within
itself and the experience of every child of God is the best exposition
of it. The three parables recorded here set forth the work of saving
Grace in different aspects.

Verses 1, 2. Then drew near unto Him all the publicans and sinners for
to hear Him. And the Pharisees and scribes murmured, saying, This Man
receives sinners, and eats with them. The Pharisees and scribes formed
the outside ring of Christ's hearers, but the inner circle consisted of
the guilty, the heavy-laden and the lowly. They pressed as near to
Christ as they could, that they might catch His every word and,
besides, there was an attractiveness about His manner that drew them
towards Him. His mercy attracted their misery! They needed Him and He
desired them–they were thus well met. There will be an inner circle,
tonight, when the Gospel is preached, and it will not consist of the
self-righteous. They that are full will not press to the table on which
the Gospel feast is spread–the hungry will be found nearest to the
heavenly provision.

3. And He spoke this parable unto them, saying. There are three
parables here, but, inasmuch as it is called "this parable," it is
really only one. It is a picture in three panels representing the same
scene from different points of view.

4. What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he loses one of them,
does not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after that
which is lost, until he finds it? It has a new importance in his eyes,
for it is lost. Before, it was only one of a hundred in the fold, but
now it is one distinct and separate from all the rest, and the
shepherd's thought is fixed upon it.

5. 6. And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing.
And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors,
saying unto them, Rejoice with me; for I have found my sheep which was
lost. No doubt he was glad that the other sheep were not lost, but that
joy was, for a while, quite eclipsed in the more striking and vivid joy
over the one which had been lost!

7. I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in Heaven over one sinner
that repents, more than over ninety and nine just persons which need no
repentance. If such there is–and there are many who think that they
belong to this class–they bring no joy to the great Shepherd. But you
who have had to mourn over your lost estate set the bells of Heaven
ringing with a new melody when you are recovered by the great Redeemer!
The first of these three parables may be said to represent salvation in
reference to the work of the Son of God as the great Seeker and Saver
of the souls of men. In the second, we have a representation of the
work of the Holy Spirit in the Church of God.

8. Or what woman, having ten pieces of silver, if she loses one piece,
does not light a candle and sweep the house, and seek diligently till
she finds it? Her thoughts were all concerning that one lost piece. It
had not more intrinsic value than the rest, but, being lost, it called
off her attention from the other nine. She valued it and for the hope
of finding it she lighted a candle, swept the house and sought
diligently till she found it. This is a picture of the Holy Spirit's
work in seeking for lost souls. They bear the King's impress–they are
coins of the realm. This woman knew that the silver coin was not far
away, so she swept the house and sought diligently, using all her eyes,
devoting all her time to this one object, quitting all other avocations
until she found it.

9. And when she has found it, she calls her friends and her neighbors
together, saying, Rejoice with me; for I have found the piece which I
had lost. She might never have called them together to rejoice that she
had ten pieces of silver–she might even have hidden them–and the joy
she had in them might have been only her own, a solitary joy. But now
that the one piece had been lost and had been found, again, she says,
"Rejoice with me; for I have found the piece which I had lost."

10. Likewise, I say unto you, there is joy in the presence of the
angels of God over one sinner that repents. Not joy among the angels,
as some read it, though no doubt that is a truth, but, "joy in the
presence of the angels of God." And what can that mean but that God,
Himself, rejoices, and rejoices so that angels perceive it! And no
doubt they then join in the delight! But all this points out that it is
the lost one that is the great object of consideration, that out of any
congregation where the Gospel is preached, it is the lost one who is
the most important person in the whole place! In the next verses, we
get the Father's part in the work of the recovery of the wanderer.

11-13. And He said, A certain man had two sons: and the younger of them
said to his father, Father, give me the portion of goods that falls to
me. And he divided unto them his living. And not many days after, the
younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far
country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living. His heart
was far away when he asked his father to give him his portion and now
his body is far away as he goes into the outward wandering which
follows after the inner wandering.

14. And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that
land. There generally does arise "a mighty famine" in such cases.
Famines and other miseries are God's messengers which He sends after
His wandering children.

14. And he began to be in want. This was a new sensation to him–he had
never known it when he was at home. He did not know it in his first
boisterous days away from his father's house, but now, "he began to be
in want."

16. And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country; and he
sent him into his fields to feed swine. Perhaps he did not want to
employ him but said that he would give him that occupation if he cared
to accept it. It was small pay, very dishonoring work to a Jew, not fit
employment for the son of a nobleman, yet, "half a loaf is better than
no bread," so he took it, though even the half loaf must have been a
very small one.

16. And he would gladly have filled his belly with the husks that the
swine did eat: and no man gave unto him. Such a thing as generosity was
not known in that country. His companions could share his riches when
he was living riotously, but they will not share their riches, now that
he is in his poverty.

17. And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my
father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! "My
father's day-laborers have bread enough and to spare, yet I, his child,
perish with hunger."

18. 19. I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him,
Father, I have sinned against Heaven, and before you, and am no more
worthy to be called your son: make me as one of your hired servants.
You notice that this last part of the prayer he never did pray, for it
was stopped by his father's love! There was a legalism about it,
naturally suggested by his own despair, but it was not such as his
father would tolerate.

20, 21. And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a
great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and
fell on his neck, and kissed him. And the son said unto him, Father, I
have sinned against Heaven, and in your sight, and am no more worthy to
be called your son. There comes an interruption there; the kiss upon
his lips stops the rest of the prayer, which he had prepared, and now
the father declares his will concerning the wanderer.

22-24. But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe,
and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet:
and bring here the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be
merry: for this, my son, was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and
is found. And they began to be merry. I have never read that they left
off being merry, for the conversion of a soul is enough to make eternal
joy in the hearts of the righteous!

25, 26. Now his elder son was in the field: and as he came and drew
near to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the
servants, and asked what these things meant. This was a new thing and,
apparently, a thing that he did not care much about. How had it come to
pass that there was such noise, such joy?

27, 28. And he said unto him, Your brother is come; and your father has
killed the fatted calf, because he has received him safe and sound. And
he was angry, and would not go in: therefore came his father out and
pleaded with him. I hardly know which to admire most, the love of the
father when he fell upon the neck of the prodigal, or the love of the
father when he went out to talk with his elder son! "Therefore came his
father out, and pleaded with him." Oh, our God is very good to us when
we give way to naughty tempers! If we begin to think that we are very
holy people, that we have been long the servants of God and that there
ought to be some little fuss made over us as well as over great sinners
that come into the Church, then our Father is very gentle, and He comes
out and entreats us.

29. And he answering said to his father, Lo, these many years have I
served you, neither transgressed I at any time your commandment: and
yet you have never given me a kid, that I might make merry with my
friends. "I have had no banquets. I have kept at home, a patient
worker, and have had no extraordinary joys." I know some Christian
workers who are very much in this condition. They keep on and on and on
in holy service, and they do well, but they seldom have great
entertainment's of high joy and unspeakable delight. It is their own
fault and it is a thousand pities that they do not have them, for they
might have them if they would! There is a tendency to grow so absorbed
in service, like Martha, that we are cumbered by it–and we do not have
the joy of Mary in communion at the Master's feet. I am sure that this
elder son was out of fellowship with his father, or else he would not
have talked as he did. We are all apt to get into such a condition. See
to it, you who work for Jesus, that it is not so with you! Then the
elder brother went on to say–

30. But as soon as this son of yours came, which has devoured your
living with harlots, you have killed for him the fatted calf. I do not
read that the prodigal had devoured his father's living with
harlots–that is the elder brother's version of it. I dare say that it
was true, but it is always a pity to give the roughest interpretation
to things. He had spent his substance "in riotous living." When we are
cross, we generally use the ugliest words we can–we may think that we
are speaking forcibly, but, indeed, we are speaking naughtily–and not
as our Father would have us speak.

31. And he said unto him, Son, you are always with me, and all that I
have is yours. Oh, what a word was that! How it reminds Christians of
their privileges, if they would but appropriate them! It is yours,
Beloved, to live always with your God and to know that all that He has
is yours! You ought to live in a perpetual festival–for you there
should be one joyful Christmastide that lasts from the beginning of the
year to the end of it! "Son, you are always with me, and all that I
have is yours."

32. It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this your
brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found. It
was the fit thing, and the proper thing, and the right thing, that
there should be extraordinary joy over a returning sinner. There ought
to be, there must be, there shall be special music and dancing over
sinners saved by the Grace of God! The Lord give us some such, tonight,
and make us glad over them! Amen.