The prodigal son, chances are you’ve been one too, even if only for a season. The one who wanders off and aims to gain fulfillment in life through lavish and wasteful expenditures, rebelling against the Father. He practically wished his father dead when he went to demand his inheritance early. But here’s the thing, the father didn’t refuse it. Often times we fall into the same trap, requesting the gifts from God without wanting the relationship – yikes. The lure of earthly pleasure tempted the son away, but like sin always does, it drastically underdelivered on its promise of a life well lived.
The son sinks so low as to take a job feeding pigs, just begging for slop from the animal’s feeding trough. But, in a moment of clarity and humility, he remembers that his father’s hired workers are treated better than he is currently living. Ashamed and broken, he begins the journey home, fully aware of the kezazah he could face upon returning. You see, as tradition dictates, the whole community had the right to cut-off and disown such a shameful young man who had so irresponsibly lost his family’s money among the gentiles. Like a shattered clay pot, broken beyond repair, his relationship ties within the community were lost forever.
But before the son can even reach the village, the father sees him approaching. In an act of undignified compassion, he hikes up his robes and runs to embrace his son, covering him before condemnation can reach him. And it doesn’t stop there, the father clothes him in honor, restores him, and throws a celebration for his return.
Have you ever felt like the son returning home? Maybe after a season of choices the world says should define you forever. Condemned. Cast out. Too far gone. But the moment you lay down the facade of worldly fulfillment and recognize your need for the Father, He runs toward you. God eagerly welcomes His children home with abundant mercy, grace, and joy.
Or do you identify more with the older brother? He hears the celebration and discovers it’s for the very brother who disgraced the family. What?! He had stayed. Obeyed. Worked faithfully beside his father all along. Why should there be rejoicing over someone so undeserving? But the father pleads with him too: “Your brother was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”
Do you join in heaven’s celebration when a sinner returns home to the Father? Or do you find yourself lost in a self-righteous battle of comparisons over your spiritual accomplishments versus theirs? You’ve been a Christian longer. You didn’t sin quite like they did. Maybe somewhere along the way, you’ve decided they deserve judgment more than grace.
The younger brother broke the rules in pursuit of self-pleasure. The older brother kept the rules in an attempt to control the Father. Yet both sons were lost in different ways.
One was lost in rebellion. The other was lost in self-righteousness. And the beautiful truth of the gospel is that the Father pursued both. So whichever brother you identify with today, come home to the Father. He is still ready to meet repentance with mercy and celebration.