The Father Runs

Luke 15:11–32

Phrases that spoke to me today:
• Give me the share of your estate that should come to me
• I shall get up and go to my father
• While he was still a long way off
• His father ran to him
• We must celebrate and rejoice

Applying the Word to my Life:
Today’s reading is one that can be difficult to really read and meditate on. The problem is that we’ve heard it so many times that we start to skim the words because we already know the story—and we probably already have our “standard interpretation” of how it applies to our life. Sometimes familiarity blocks a deeper meaning.

Most of the time, we put ourselves in the prodigal son’s shoes. And if I’m honest, it can be easy to read his story and quietly feel better about myself. Yes, I have my favorite sins, but I haven’t done anything nearly as bad as the prodigal. Spending half your parents’ money on a life of debauchery is pretty low. I’ve done bad things, but not that bad…right?

But the actions are only the surface. The deeper problem—and the one that hits closer to home—is what’s underneath them. The son isn’t just careless; he’s self-focused in a way that treats everything and everyone as fuel for his own appetite. The older brother names it when he talks about spending it all on prostitutes. That line highlights what sin does: it makes people into objects, and relationships into transactions.

This is a portrait of a soul turned fully inward. And if we’re honest, we all carry that tendency in us—the instinct to seize instead of receive, to manage, to make life about me. But Jesus didn’t tell this story so we could see how ugly the world can get—we only need to look around to find examples of that every day. He told us this story so we could see what real love looks like. The surface-level lesson is that the father takes the son back. The real lesson is how he does it.

First, we see that love never gives up. The father sees the son from a long distance away—he has been searching the horizon for the day his son might return. Next, we see that love doesn’t hold back. The father runs to him. Grown men didn’t do that in Jesus’ time. For a man to run, he had to lift up his robe, and that wasn’t dignified. Respect dictated that others came to the elder, not the other way around. But the father is so focused on his son that even his dignity takes a back seat.

Third, we see that love is not conditional. The father moves first. He embraces him before the son can finish his rehearsed speech. And finally we see that love is generous. The father restores him with a robe and ring and sandals, and then he throws a feast in celebration. This is a portrait of the beauty of a soul turned fully outward—radiating love.

With those two strong characters, it’s easy to miss the one that might be the most important: the faithful son. He’s stuck in the middle. He’s done what he was supposed to do. He stayed. He worked. He was “good.” So he isn’t turned fully inward like his brother was. But he also isn’t ready to forgive and love his brother—so he isn’t turned fully outward either.

And I think a lot of us live right there. Not in the distant country. Not fully at home. Just…near the house, still bargaining. Still keeping score. Still trying to control the terms.

So here’s the question that keeps pressing on me: every time you’ve read this story—what do you think that faithful son does after he talks with his father? Does he go into the feast? Or does he stay outside with his arms crossed?

Because that answer can tell you a lot about where we are in our faith journey—not whether we’ve been “good,” but whether we’re ready to stop bargaining and come all the way home.

My Response for Today:
Today I will stop focusing on what I think I’ve earned and take one step toward coming all the way home to the Father.