The Ninety-Nine Can Survive in the Wilderness

The first of three examinations of Jesus teachings in Luke 15 & 16

The parable of the prodigal son is the longest of Jesus’ parables and one of the most well known. It is most often cited as an illustration of God’s redemptive love of sinners, which it demonstrates powerfully. But this was a secondary purpose. Drawing on various stories from the book of Genesis, Jesus was not primarily concerned with sinners understanding the vertical love of God, but with Pharisees and scribes understanding the horizontal love that God desires between brothers.

More importantly, Jesus was demonstrating that the perceived imbalance between good sons and bad sons is far more circumstantial than it first appears. As I noted in a previous examination of the Olivet discourse, Jesus often teaches through a series of parables that introduce different contexts in a progression designed to deepen our understanding.

Each parable exists as a multi-faceted gem, which can be examined from many different angles. But a deeper truth comes through the comparison between the parables, inviting us to notice unique properties of color and clarity. One of the reasons the main point of this sermon is often missed is that Jesus’ lesson does not conclude with the parable of the lost son, but extends to another parable, that of the shrewd manager, a difficult passage often overlooked, and easily missed due to the insertion of a chapter division.

To fully unpack the lesson, and see how the final point really lands, we must begin at the beginning:

“Now the tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to hear him. And the Pharisees and the scribes grumbled, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.”

So he told them this parable: “What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the open country, and go after the one that is lost, until he finds it? And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.” - Luke 15:1-7

Jesus begins by introducing two shorter parables, that of the lost sheep, and the lost coin. These three parables center around different percentages of something lost. One of one-hundred, one of ten, and one of one. The cumulative effect is meant to cause the Pharisees and scribes to reexamine their disdain for the tax collectors and sinners. At the outset, the solution seems obvious; exclude them from the community. By the end of the story, each person must reckon with the idea that those they exclude might be their own brother, or themself.

One thing Jesus seems to be addressing through this three-step process is the problem with scale. He breaks through the all-too common assumption summed up in a quote attributed to Joseph Stalin: “One death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic.” We all recoil at the idea when stated so plainly, but we all unconsciously agree to some extent. If not in regard to death, than in regard to lesser forms of suffering.

In our age of post-Christian “universal human rights”, this problem has been used to “weaponize” compassion for political power. But this is a misapplication of Jesus’ parables. By fixing his scale between one and one hundred, He fixes our attention within another constraint– Dunbar’s number, which limits our capacity for stable social relationships at around 150.

So in this three story paradigm, Jesus addresses three levels of scale at which we relate to others. A tight, easily recognizable Dunbar level group of 100, a midpoint of 10, which could apply to both families and groups of close friends, and the individual relationships composed of ourselves and an “other”. Working backwards from one to ten, to one-hundred, expectations and limits do change. The average village member does not have the same responsibility towards the prodigal son as the father does. The point being made is that his brother, who does bear a greater responsibility, wants to treat him as if he were just another member of the village.

The dunbar sized group of one hundred, as well as the lesser groups of ten, do have limitations on their responsibility towards each other. If the attention is not disbursed equally over time, the coherence will dissolve. People can still spend more time in their smaller circles, but if the circles become exclusive, with no overlap, the larger group splinters into factions.

Polarization within a body becomes apparent when it reaches that midpoint level of around 10%. If ten people in a group of one hundred begin to focus on their views to the exclusion of the other 90 people, they become a recognizable faction. Depending on the severity of the exclusion, this minority majority split can have serious consequences. These divisions can scale upward to 15,20, 30 percent up to 50.

Minorities of less than 10% can also have a big impact, especially at scales beyond the Dunbar number. But if a division fails to reach a critical mass of 10 people, it’s much less likely to be tolerated. Consider Abraham’s plea regarding the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. Ten righteous men (a minyan, the minimum quorum required for an assembly) would have only represented a fraction of a fraction of a percent, but they would have had enough support to maintain their position. This is perhaps why Abraham does not ask God for mercy if there are less than ten righteous men in the city. A proper minyan provides the internal support necessary to maintain their position with integrity. If they had that, they would already have the divine support that forestalls judgement.

There is something real about the number ten that brings it over a threshold. Consider the parable of the lost coin:

“Or what woman, having ten silver coins, if she loses one coin, does not light a lamp and sweep the house and seek diligently until she finds it? And when she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” - Luke 15:8-10

Unlike the missing sheep, which is conspicuous and might be found by one of the neighbors or friends, the coin is missing within the woman’s household. It is a more trivial matter. You wouldn’t ask the person on the edge of your village to help you search or say a prayer, nor would you trouble the entire assembly with your concern. But it is the kind of thing that someone can trouble their close friends and immediate neighbors with. And those are the people the woman calls to celebrate with her when she finds it.

The group of ten provides a level of support and resistance that can sustain more fragility. It is the kind of group that can sustain a minority position within a larger body. They can care more deeply and devote more time and attention to more personal things, nuanced opinions, and unpopular causes.

Though there is a distinction between the shepherd that searches and the sheep, and the woman who searches and her coins, the parables both speak to the average member of the group, at the level in which they are bound together. In reality, they are all people. The members of the groups are not above helping each other, but they are bound by at different levels. The sheep are bound by proximity. If the sheep were to fall in the ditch within the area occupied by the flock, they would be helped; or at least, there would be sheep that stayed nearby to make noise until the shepherd (the person with more specific responsibility to that particular sheep, a parent, or brother) could arrive.

Of course, the separation Jesus is addressing is not physical, but social. The “lost sheep” are within the physical proximity of the flock, but they are being socially ostracized. A scribe or Pharisee would (hopefully) still recognize their responsibility to call for help if the tax collector or sinner falls into a ditch, just as we hope citizens would extend basic human decency towards their neighbors of a different political affiliation.

We are not talking about the good samaritan, who was outside the group. The good samaritan actually affirms these distinctions of group level, even though it condemns the priest and the levite for not recognizing the basic human need of the poor man, it suggests that their reasons for being set apart from some social circles is perfectly appropriate. The lost sheep still belongs to the same basic category as the other sheep. This means that being a part of the group of 100 has certain benefits even for those who do not have a smaller group of closer friends.

Now then, we should take these ideas and bring them into the parable of the prodigal son:

“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, and there he squandered his property in reckless living” - Luke 15:11-13

Most of the time, the responsibility for everything that occurs is placed squarely on the shoulders of the younger son. He’s a black sheep. But the question we do not answer is why?

One thing notably absent is a mother. We don’t know the where or when of this fact, but it is significant. The story undoubtedly takes place within the context of a wider community, (a group of one hundred,) but the son only speaks to his father. The father is perfectly willing to give the son what he asks for, even though it is an extravagant thing to ask for. Why is he so willing to do this?

Let’s examine a few details shared by the other brother:

‘Look, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him!’ - Luke 15:29-30

The first thing to note is that this son has never disobeyed. He is a member in good standing within the family and the larger community. Next we learn that he has friends. How many friends? Enough that a young goat, which typically yields between 10–25 pounds of decent meat, would provide a satisfactory celebration– a group of ten.

He also gives us some more details about the prodigal.

The story does not detail exactly how the son wastes his father’s money, but unless we decide the brother is an unreliable narrator, we can assume that what he says about visiting prostitutes is true. Once his money ran out, “he began to be in need.”

“So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed pigs. And he was longing to be fed with the pods that the pigs ate, and no one gave him anything.” - Luke 15:15-16

The curious detail here is that “no one gave him anything.” He was willing to eat the fodder available, but he was not willing to simply take it. Despite his supposed wickedness, he is either afraid or unwilling to transgress a boundary that might be seen as theft.

“But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”’ Luke 15:17-19

Of course, the first and most salient need he is concerned with is food. That is a significant enough contrast to make servitude in his father’s house more appealing. But there is something else that is brought up in his speech. He says, How many. We don’t know exactly how many, but I would wager that it is at least ten. A group of significant size to maintain a minority identity within a larger community, to be seen as a group capable of offering a sense of belonging.

He is not part of his brother’s circle of friends.

His status separates him from the servants.

His father willingly sends him off when he makes an outrageous request.

The simple and straightforward conclusion we make is that the younger son does not become lost. He has never belonged.

There is something wrong with the younger son. But it is something that is easily missed. Something that allows him to speak and act in a way that is perceived as normal, but keeps him from achieving a normal life. Something that allows him to be easily taken advantage of.

The absence of the mother is important, because a mother’s devotion towards their children does not end. Death is the only explanation for her absence, she likely took care of this son until she died. We don’t know the length of the absence. It may have happened during childbirth, as was the case with Rachel and Benjamin.

A father can step in and protect that child, as Jacob did. But a father’s love seeks to help his children grow, and it is a love that is willing to send them away if that is what is required. The audacious request, an act of self-determination, may have overjoyed a father, who had run out of options to help his son.

Peter J. Williams, drawing on the work of Kenneth Bailey, notes in his book The Surprising Genius of Jesus, (see my review below) that this parable contains many phrases plucked verbatim from the text of Genesis. It alludes to all the stories of fathers, sons and brothers. Cain and Abel, Isaac and Ishmael, Jacob and Esau, and the sons of Israel, Joseph, Judah, and Benjamin. Jesus is pulling all these references in as the context for interpretation.

Most striking is the contrast between the two sons of Rachel, Joseph and Benjamin, who are excluded from the group of ten. The hero of that story is Judah, who comes to repentance after succumbing to the wiles of a prostitute. He is willing to remain in exile to ensure that Benjamin, who appears guilty, returns to his father safely.

Finally, it is time to reconcile these insights with the titular observation. The sheep, whether they are ninety-nine or one hundred, are left in the wilderness, and they can survive, and even thrive. The group of ten, unless they are denied the basic decency afforded to members of a larger community, can survive as an unpopular minority group within the larger body.

Community, when it reaches certain thresholds, provides the necessary means of survival all on its own. But what this also means is that it is blind to many aspects of the environment that are hostile to smaller bodies.

Our culture has progressed to the extent that the basic decency once afforded by communities of a hundred people has spread much wider. But it has been greatly diluted. People do not need to cling to a group of one hundred for safety, but if the structures that uphold our way of life collapsed, they would be hard pressed to find a group of that size to belong to. And increasingly, people fail to become part of the more meaningful groups of ten.

This is certainly a problem. Unfortunately, it is not the only problem. Driven by the very real need for community, those who have the capacity to find belonging have increasingly found each other in a united pursuit of “fixing” the problems that they have already overcome, without realizing it.

The vast majority of groups that exist within the greater cultural wilderness are centered around “What is wrong with ____”. But once they reach the thresholds of ten close friends, or a hundred tribesmen, they become blind. Because the sheep can survive in the wilderness, they cannot truly diagnose the wilderness.

To discover who can, and what the problems are, our next task is to wrestle with the problem of the individual.