“And he (prodigal son) arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion and ran and embraced him and kissed him. …
But he (prejudicial son) was angry and refused to go in. His father came out and entreated him… And he said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.’”

Luke 15:20, 28, 31

What if we consider another son in the prodigal son parable? Honestly, this parable isn’t about the runaway son. It really isn’t about the sons at all. This parable Jesus tells is about the Father. About how this father looks for and longs for his prodigal son’s safe return home. About how this father will leave a party to help a hurting son see life, forgiveness, and grace. About this father’s love that is deeper than all his sons’ sins and sufferings.

The point of the parable isn’t the prodigal-ness or prejudice-ness of the sons. The parable portrays the paternal patience and powerful pardon for all prodigals no matter their proximity which is pervasive through past, present, and potential which every person participates in.

Again, I ask, what if we consider another son in this Father’s parable? We can identify with the selfish, greedy son who wanted to sow wild seeds and reap a temporally extravagant life. We can identify with the selfish, greedy son who wanted everyone to pay who harmed him, who got mercies he never seemed to receive, who sacrificed yet never experienced grace. Yet, what of that son, who knew his father. Knew grace. Knew mercy. Knew that this Father’s love was unending.  A son who knew that even in his sin, his father loves him and all the father has is his.

What would it look like to have that confidence of love and forgiveness?

The new day breaks in colours of oranges with yellows trailing. The mist gathered in the night evanesces away. The youngest son of the property’s owner slept passed the morning light. His night full of song and dance, drink and games, and a moments of weakness when temptations produced sin. He had no desire to face the light of what he had done.

The gambling was a weakness, but taking what wasn’t his gave a hit of adrenaline that was all to exciting, even if for a night. Last night, he gave way to the emotion and justification. And sinned against his father. He heard his father’s lectures despite the covering of his ears.

“Always care for others. If they are without, give. Never take what isn’t yours. Whether food, coin, or person. Give because all I have is yours. Give not for selfish pride, but for others humbly. Give because all this belongs to something greater than you. Give because this is where the blessing is.”

The light found the cracks and crevasses into his heart. He opened his eyes to the sorrow he caused. He knows his father forgives and loves. But how many times will his father open his arms to this ungrateful of sons? He covered his head and began crying. Crying for his own weakness to take. Crying for his own pride to want to run and hide. Crying for the ones he was to provide and protect rather than steal and squander. Crying for his nature always in a battle with his desire to serve and love like his father. He cried deep because he knew his sin separates him from his father. The harm he caused others separated him from community. And he felt separated from himself in who he wanted to be versus who he was.

In his sorrow, he gathered himself together to confess to his father. He already knew that his father would find him. The father sensed that the son needed him. He knew the son was hurting and had hurt others. He knew the son could no more change his own pride than the sun stop shining in the day. He knew exactly what his son needed and was ready to pour it in abundance.

The son cried at his father’s feet. The father softly sung his song and held his son until the sobs settled.

“All I have is yours, my son. I love you in your sin and will love you through your sin. I love you in your being. Accept my forgiveness and never mistake conviction for condemnation. Let conviction do her work. Learn to walk in Grace and Compassion to avoid nights like last night; to avoid temptations that lead you to sin and separate you from me. Avoid harms that separate you from others. And avoid lies that separate you from who you are created to be. Walk in my love and dance to my song.”

The son immediately got up and cleaned his room and himself. He found the man he stole from and returned the amount four times over. He found the servant whom he ridiculed and bowed to him with words of affirmation and repentance. He spent the rest of the day in reflection and conversations with his father.

As night fell, he felt the temptation pull him to the sound of the games, his weakness. He took a deep breath in, slow breath out. Walking to the main house, he heard the music of his father and went in.

Perhaps you could write a better version, because you, like this prodigal, know the Father who introduces himself as Hesed, Compassionate, Merciful, Love, and Grace to thousands. You know what Forgiveness feels like intimately. You know that even in your deepest sin, this Father reached you, sat with you, held you, sung his song over you. And reminded you.

“All I have is yours, my child. I love you in your sin and will love you through your sin. I love you in your being. Accept my forgiveness and never mistake conviction for condemnation. Let conviction do her work. Learn to walk in Grace and Compassion to avoid nights like last night; to avoid temptations that lead you to sin and separate you from me. Avoid harms that separate you from others. And avoid lies that separate you from who you are created to be. Walk in my love and dance to my song.”

Perhaps you couldn’t write such a story because you have never felt such love and forgiveness. If you were looking for such love from people, especially people who call themselves Christian, you will always be disappointed and discouraged. People are finicky. We do not reflect such a father’s love easily. We tend more to the selfish, greedy prodigal who wanted to sow wild seeds and reap a temporally extravagant life or the selfish, greedy prodigal who wanted everyone to pay who harmed him, who got mercies he never seemed to receive, who sacrificed yet never experienced grace. We prodigals judge and condemn other prodigals. Because when we live in our selfish sin, we are separated from our loving Father, from our God who gave. We sinful creatures can only point to self and we cannot point to Jesus, who is our judge and who was condemned for us.

All Jesus Christ has experienced has been for us. Every thorn. Every lash. Every nail. Every breath. Every drop of life poured out and regained. Every heartbeat. He lived so that we could have all the Father has for us. The life Christ lived was one of mercy, of love, of grace, of forgiveness. He is HESED. Though he had no sin in him, he knew (knows) the Father of all us prodigals. He knows the riches and beauty and extreme love God holds and sings over us.

And Christ calls us to hear his Father’s song.

“All I have is yours, my child. I love you in your sin and will love you through your sin. I love you in your being. Accept my forgiveness and never mistake conviction for condemnation. Let conviction do her work. Learn to walk in Grace and Compassion to avoid nights like last night; to avoid temptations that lead you to sin and separate you from me. Avoid harms that separate you from others. And avoid lies that separate you from who you are created to be. Walk in my love and dance to my song.”

You and I are feeble. We will sin and separate ourselves from such love, mercy, grace, and forgiveness. We will harm others that we are to love and care for. We will believe lies about ourselves that cause us to not be who we were created to be. We will falter and fail.

Yet, the music from our Father’s house radiates.

Walk in his love and dance to his song.