Jewish men never ran. To run in Jesus’ day, a man had to hitch up his robe to avoid tripping. Pulling up his robe would show his bare legs, which was shameful in that culture.
Yet Jesus’ prodigal son story features a running father. Why would a Jewish father shame himself by running down a road to hug and kiss a returning prodigal boy? Because a father’s love is eager; it is consuming; it is insistent. It cares not for its reputation, only for its recipient. A father’s love trumps all.
Jesus does not dwell on the painful parting when the boy left for the far country. Losing one of a hundred sheep (Luke 15:4) was a one percent loss; losing one coin of ten (15:8) was a ten percent loss; but losing one of two sons was not a fifty percent loss—it was incalculable. Knowing the mindset of the boy and the temptations of the far country, the father must have wept as he watched his son’s figure grow small in the distance. We do not know how long the boy was gone, but it was longer for the father than for anyone else. At every meal, he saw the vacant chair; every night he laid awake wondering if his son were alive or dead; every day he stacked more tear-soaked prayers toward heaven.
This passage is called the Parable of the Prodigal Son, but the son is not the hero. The father is the hero. And to be more accurate, the Father is the hero, for it tells far more of God’s love than any sinner’s sin. It teaches about God’s love because of a sinner’s sin—in spite of sin, in answer to sin, to overcome sin. The Father’s love is at the heart of the gospel.
What kind of father did the prodigal son have? What kind of God does Jesus show?
A God Who Looks Long and Longingly (Luke 15:17–20)
What went through the boy’s mind as he walked that long road home? Would his father accept him back? Would his brother ridicule him? Would his rehearsed confession come out right? As he drew near the homestead, imagine the memories that flooded his mind.
From the other end of that driveway, at long last, the father saw what he longed to see. He likely had looked out the window for that familiar silhouette against the sky every day since his boy left (cf. Isaiah 49:15; Jeremiah 31:20). He had glanced down that road a thousand times a week. The father—not the brother or a servant—was the first to see the boy’s approach because love’s eyes see far.
Like that father, our Father looks long (no matter how many years it has been) and longingly down your street, waiting for a prodigal (Psalm 86:5, 15; 103:10–13; Isaiah 55:6–7; Micah 7:18–19; Romans 2:4). Whenever any prodigal, anytime, anywhere, turns around, he is face to face with a smiling God. It is a short trip home because God halves the distance.
A God Who Hugs Tight and Forgives Eagerly (Luke 15:20)
Perhaps they saw each other at the same time. The boy’s heart throbbed within him; the father’s leaped into his throat. Rather than rushing into the house and locking the door, as the boy may have feared, the father took off running down the road toward him. The boy may have thought, “I’ve never seen Dad run before.” Arriving shortly, likely panting, the father ignored his son’s tattered clothes and the smell of his unwashed body. He put his arms around the boy, pulled him in tightly, and kissed him over and again. When the boy saw his father’s smile, felt his embrace, and heard his voice, the tears must have flowed freely. When his father kissed him, he must have wondered what he ever did to deserve such a wonderful father.
A God with Spare Bread (Luke 15:17) and Extravagant Gifts (Luke 15:22)
Thinking of the food back home brought the starving boy with the pigs to his senses. He remembered there were leftovers (spare bread) after the meals growing up. When he arrived at home, the father showed grace. He forgave him. He showed no contempt and held no grudge. He made no recriminations. He gave no lecture. He put no asterisk by his name in the family records.
The father interrupted the boy’s humble confession, commanding the servants to get the boy clothes and shoes; prepare food; put a ring on his hand. These rapid-fire gifts represent some wonderful things the Father grants to all returning prodigals.
The father gave him the robe of honor. The best robe was not just something from the boy’s old closet; it was a long, embroidered garment worn on special occasions (Psalm 45:13). The One who washed His disciples’ feet now sits at God’s right hand, girded with a towel, ready to cleanse sinners (John 13:1–13; Revelation 1:5–6; Acts 22:16). A sinner’s baptism puts him into Christ (Acts 2:38; Galatians 3:27), where-upon he receives a place at the Father’s (Lord’s) supper table. When a returning prodigal confesses sin, God cleanses all unrighteousness (1 John 1:7). He clothes with salvation and righteousness (Revelation 3:4–5, 18; Ephesians 4:22–24). In heaven, white robes await (Revelation 6:11; 7:9, 13–14; 19:8).
The father gave him a son’s ring. The boy was restored to his original position in the family (cf. Romans 8:15; Galatians 4:5–6). A signet ring gave the bearer the power of attorney (Esther 3:10; 8:2). Forgiveness grants justification—meaning “just-as-if-I-had-never-sinned” (Ephesians 2:13, 17)—and makes us sons in God’s family (Galatians 4:7).
The father gave him shoes. Slaves went barefoot (Isaiah 20:1–2), as the returning prodigal must have been. God frees Satan’s slaves when He saves sinners (2 Chronicles 28:15). A Christian’s feet are shod with the preparation of the gospel (Ephesians 6:15).
The father killed the fatted calf, representing satisfaction. A calf was kept ready for special occasions (Genesis 18:7). This signifies that all needs are fully satisfied when a prodigal comes home (Psalm 63:5). God fills His children’s lives with blessings (Matthew 7:11; 22:4; John 10:10). Grace includes all the provisions God has to correct everything that is wrong in a sinner’s life. The feast that began on earth will continue in heaven (Revelation 2:17; 19:9).
There was (and is) grace enough—and to spare—in God’s cupboard (Ephesians 2:8–9; Titus 2:11–14). This parable illustrates justice, mercy, and grace.
- The returning prodigal deserved—but did not want—justice. Justice would have turned him away at the door (Psalm 143:2). In the big picture, justice leaves sinners in line for hell.
- He desired mercy (Luke 15:19). Mercy would have allowed him to work with the servants. In the big picture, mercy says to sinners, “No hell for you.”
- He received grace. Grace restored him as a son instead of making him a servant. Grace says to sinners, not only “not hell,” but instead “heaven.”
The God of a Merry Heaven (Luke 15:23)
How could heaven be anything but happy? In God’s presence are pleasures forevermore (Psalm 16:11). Heaven does not celebrate earth’s holidays—no fireworks on July 4, no turkey in November, no angel food birthday cakes—but it does host celebrations. Every time a sinner is saved, heaven gets excited.
Have you considered that if you return to your first love (Revelation 2:4–5), you will start a party in heaven today? I do not know how long it will last (perhaps until the next person is baptized or restored), but it will surely start up again when you set foot in that city. Upon arrival, you will be recognized, accepted, loved, praised, and congratulated (2 Timothy 2:19; Jeremiah 31:3; 1 Corinthians 4:5; Matthew 25:23, 46).
From where we stand right now, there are two roads. We are free to take either. One dips and descends until it gets lost in a distant lake that glows fiery red on the horizon (listen closely, and you can almost hear weeping). The other road climbs to a bright city of songs and laughter. It lights up the distant horizon brighter than the nuclear explosion.
The prodigal’s story is Jesus’ way of saying that anybody can get right with God. Publicans, sinners, Pharisees, prostitutes, regular people, you, me. If you used to attend the church of Christ, but have stopped for whatever reason, the welcome mat is out.
This young man is our inspiration. His father is our hope. The boy dared to think he could go home, and the father dared to think that he would. Jesus gives us power to become His children (John 1:12)—and power to return. If you have no desire to come home, God will never make you, but if you want to, He will let nobody on earth or in hell prevent you.
May we be the first ones to say, “Welcome home.”