Lent Parable: The Prodigal Son

March 25, 2025

Jesus’ Parable of The Prodigal Son, A Call to Repentance

Read Scripture: Luke 15:11-32

At the heart of Lent is the call to return to God. The Prodigal Son’s journey mirrors our own—wandering away, facing the consequences, and realizing that the Father’s love is always waiting. To Jesus’s original audience, the younger son’s request for his inheritance was shocking—it was essentially telling his father, “I wish you were dead.” In Middle Eastern culture, where honor and family ties were paramount, such a request would have brought shame on the entire family. Today, we might understand this as someone completely rejecting their family’s values and heritage, cutting ties through particularly hurtful and public means.

The son’s descent into desperate circumstances holds particular significance. For a Jewish young man to end up feeding pigs—animals considered unclean by Jewish law—was the ultimate picture of degradation. It would be like someone today losing not just their wealth and status, but their very identity and dignity. The pods he longed to eat were carob pods, used as animal feed—the equivalent of envying the scraps in a dumpster. This vivid picture of rock bottom resonates with anyone who has experienced the consequences of turning away from God’s path.

But the most shocking element of the story comes in the father’s response. In a culture where patriarchs were expected to maintain their dignity, the father runs to meet his son—something elderly men of status simply didn’t do in that society. By running, the father would have had to hike up his robes, exposing his legs, a humiliating action for a man of his position. This detail, which Jesus’s audience would have found startling, shows how God’s love transcends social conventions and personal dignity. Just as the father took on shame to spare his son from the village’s judgment, God took on human form and the shame of the cross to restore us.

The gifts the father provides—the best robe, ring, and sandals—weren’t just random choices. The robe would have been the father’s own ceremonial robe, the ring his signet ring representing family authority, and sandals marked the son as a free man rather than a servant. In our context, this would be like a parent not only welcoming back a wayward child but also immediately restoring their place in the family business and giving them full access to the family’s resources and reputation.

The older brother’s reaction represents another kind of spiritual struggle—the resentment that can come from doing everything “right” yet feeling unrewarded. His complaint about never receiving even a young goat while his brother gets the fattened calf reveals a transactional view of relationship with the father. Many of us today might relate to this mindset, perhaps feeling that our faithful church attendance or moral living should earn us special treatment from God.

The father’s response to the older son is equally gracious, reminding him “all I have is yours.” This challenges both ancient and modern assumptions about earning God’s favor. The celebration isn’t about deserving or earning—it’s about restoration and joy. During Lent, we’re invited to examine which son we most resemble: Are we still wandering? Have we come to our senses and started our journey home? Or are we the older brother, needing to learn that God’s grace extends beyond our notions of fairness?

Reflection Questions: