Luke 15:20-24: a reflection

20“He arose and came to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was moved with compassion, and ran, fell on his neck, and kissed him. 21The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and in your sight. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22“But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring out the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his hand and sandals on his feet. 23Bring the fattened calf, kill it, and let’s eat and celebrate; 24for this, my son, was dead and is alive again. He was lost and is found.’ Then they began to celebrate.

In the parable of the prodigal son, the wayward son, having squandered everything and hit bottom, resolves to return to his father, rehearsing a speech of confession. But notice what the father does before the son can even finish. While he was still far off, his father saw him and was moved with compassion, and ran, fell on his neck, and kissed him. The father does not wait, cold and distant, for the son to grovel; he runs to him, embraces him, and, cutting short the confession, calls for the best robe, a ring, sandals, and a feast. The welcome is eager, lavish, overflowing with joy.

Notice the father's eager, lavish welcome of the returning son. He did not wait for the son to reach him, arms folded; he saw him while he was still far off, and ran to him, moved with compassion. He did not receive him grudgingly, on probation; he embraced him, restored him fully with the robe and ring, and threw a feast of joy. The welcome was not measured or reluctant, but eager and lavish, overflowing with a father's joy at his lost son's return. This is the picture Jesus gives of God's welcome of the returning sinner: eager, lavish, joyful.

That picture of God's welcome is worth resting in, for it shows how God receives us when we return to him. We can imagine that God, when we return to him after wandering, will receive us coldly, grudgingly, on probation, making us earn our way back; but the father ran to his returning son, embraced him, and restored him with joy. When you return to God after wandering, do not imagine he will receive you coldly or grudgingly; he runs to welcome the returning, embracing and restoring with lavish joy, as the father welcomed his prodigal son. Come back to God, however far you have wandered, trusting the eager, lavish welcome he gives the returning, as the father saw his son while still far off and ran to embrace him, restoring him fully with joy; for God welcomes the returning sinner not grudgingly but with running, embracing, lavish joy.

Lord, in the parable of the prodigal son, the wayward son, having squandered everything and hit bottom, resolves to return to his father. But notice what the father does before the son can even finish his confession. While he was still far off, his father saw him and was moved with compassion, and ran, fell on his neck, and kissed him. The father does not wait, cold and distant; he runs to him, embraces him, and calls for the best robe, a ring, sandals, and a feast. The welcome is eager, lavish, overflowing with joy. Show me the father's eager, lavish welcome of the returning son. He did not wait for the son to reach him; he saw him while he was still far off, and ran to him, moved with compassion. He did not receive him grudgingly, on probation; he embraced him, restored him fully, and threw a feast of joy. This is the picture you give of God's welcome of the returning sinner: eager, lavish, joyful. Let me rest in that picture, for it shows how you receive me when I return to you. I can imagine that you, when I return after wandering, will receive me coldly, grudgingly, making me earn my way back; but the father ran to his returning son, embraced him, and restored him with joy. When I return to you after wandering, keep me from imagining you will receive me coldly; you run to welcome the returning, embracing and restoring with lavish joy. Help me come back to you, Lord, however far I have wandered, trusting the eager, lavish welcome you give the returning. Thank you that you welcome the returning sinner not grudgingly but with running, embracing, lavish joy.