The Parable of the Prodigal Son is probably the best known of all Christ’s parables. Indeed, it offers not only a gripping story, but a summary of the gospel of free grace and forgiveness. Yet this parable does more than illustrate and apply the doctrine of repentance. Though it does that stunningly and memorably, this parable gives us a way to view all of life from the perspective of the heart of the Father, as Christ opens it up. Before we trace this, however, we need to take up the key Christ gives us to unlock the parable’s meaning.

The Key⤒🔗

In order to discover this key, we need to examine a few pre­liminaries. First, we need to notice the form of the parable. Luke 15 is actually one long parable. We are used to seeing three parables in this one chapter: the parables of the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost son(s). However, according to verse 3, we have one long parable with three parts, and these three parts move in a spiral-like motion culminating in the story of the prodigal son. It’s as if Christ were saying: “Think of the care and diligence of a shepherd who seeks a lost sheep, or a woman looking for a lost silver coin. Think of the joy of both when they find what they had lost. Now think of a father who has lost his son...”

Secondly, we need to notice the occasion for the parable (vv. 2-3). In His travels toward Jerusalem, Jesus had been approachable to publicans and sinners (Luke 15:1-2), much to the evident chagrin of the Pharisees. They complained: “This man receiveth sinners and eateth with them” (v. 2). As true and glorious as this statement is, they utter it as a complaint! It’s sobering to think that it is possible to complain about the gospel. Jonah did something similar when he saw Ninevites being converted: “Was this not my saying ... for I knew that thou art a gracious God” (Jonah 4:2).

Thirdly, we need to notice the vantage point of the parable. This parable is Christ’s answer to the bitter complaint of the Pharisees. Much like the father in the parable who “came out, and entreated” the elder brother (v. 28), so Jesus left the company of these repenting sinners to address the Pharisees. This parable is Christ’s entreaty to gospel complainers. Just as the father in the parable said to the eldest son, “It was meet that we should make merry” (v. 32), so Jesus explained to the Pharisees why it was “meet” that both He and they should be merry over these saved sinners. Concerned as they were about propriety and decorum, the Pharisees thought what Christ was doing was not “meet.” But Christ showed pre­cisely how divinely “meet” it was by opening up the Father’s heart. After all, there is joy “in heaven over one sinner that repenteth” (v. 7).

This then is the key to the parable: on the one side there was Jesus with the repenting sinners and joy in heaven. On the other hand, there were the proud and angry Pharisees, who were anything but synchronized with heaven. And Jesus left this feast with repenting sinners to meet these “elder sons” outside. Much like the Lord defended Joshua against Satan’s claims (Zech. 3:2-4), so in this parable Christ defended these repenting sinners by opening up the Father’s heart. God’s heart is filled with love and joy. And Christ knows this, because, as the Bible says, He was “in the bosom of the Father,” and therefore He “hath declared him” (John 1:18). In this parable, He did so by setting forth three things: 1) our removal from God; 2) our recovery by God, and 3) our rejoicing in God.

Our Removal from God←⤒🔗

The word “lost” occurs five times in this chapter, and is clearly very significant. Most of us are quite familiar with the language of having “lost” God. For these Pharisees, however, this was likely new, though they should have known it from the Old Testament passages such as Ezekiel 34:16. There are two aspects of our being lost that Christ sets forth in this parable. The first is that man is lost with respect to God. Man has departed from God and is now lost, separated from God and cut off from fellowship with Him. Like the lost sheep, he has lost the nearness of the Shepherd and thus His nurture, protection, leading, and ultimately life itself. Like the lost coin, the sinner may have the image of his Maker stamped upon him, but he is unusable until he is found. Like the younger son, the sinner prefers the far country of his own desires to the presence of God. In the presence of God there is light and life, and in the far country there is darkness and death. The elder son is no less cut off from the father. Though he may be in geographical proximity to him, his heart prefers his friends over his father; the fact that he slaves away in his father’s house does not change the matter. Clearly, both sons are cut off from the true source of life and pining away in their self-chosen death — one in a swine trough, the other in the trap of a self-righ­teous jealousy and bitterness.

The notion of everyone being lost with respect to God would have stunned the Pharisees. Yet this does not exhaust the brilliance of the parable on the point of our removal from God. For the parable goes on to consider the sinner as lost from the perspective of God. Here lies the real power of the parable. Christ spends little time on the sheep’s experience of being lost, but of the shepherd having lost the sheep. He spends no time on the dynamic of the coin being out of cir­culation, hidden away in the dark, but on the woman missing the coin and her diligent search for it. In the parable of the two sons, when Christ spends some time describing what it looks like for both these sons to be lost, He still twice takes us to the father, and lingers over what he lost and what that entails for him. He has the father repeat it twice: “This my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found” (vv. 24 and 32). The point is this: what is lost is not just itself lost; it is lost from the perspective of God.

The telltale sign that the Pharisees were still lost was their lack of joy at the repentance of sinners. It proved that they were missing God’s view of man’s natural condition, both concerning themselves and others. They had never come face to face with how lost mankind is. They considered publicans and sinners lost: they had lost religion and were lost to religion. They were lost with respect to the twelve chosen tribes of Israel and lost with respect to the Messiah, whom the Pharisees thought would deliver them from the Romans. They were lost to moral righteousness and the Pharisaic way of living. As such, the publicans and sinners needed to be judged and avoided.

But this view of sinners being lost missed the point so entirely. No wonder the Pharisees could give the gospel so succinctly and yet so indignantly at the beginning of the chapter. They failed to understand our being lost from out of the heart of the Father. How we need Christ to show us that we are lost from out of the fatherly heart of God! Essentially, this view runs through the whole of the Bible, from Genesis 3 on. Isn’t this what lies behind God’s first question to lost Adam: “Where art thou?” (Gen. 3:9)? Isn’t this what lies behind God’s voice in Isaiah: “I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against me” (Isa. 1:2)? Isn’t this what is expressed in Hosea 11:8: “How shall I give thee up, Ephraim? how shall I deliver thee, Israel? how shall I make thee as Admah? how shall I set thee as Zeboim? Mine heart is turned within me, my repentings are kindled together”?

When God looks upon a sinner to save him, He regards him as lost and in need of being found, sovereignly and effectually. That is why the father of the parable says that “this my son was dead.” By nature, that is exactly what we are: dead, cut off from the Source of life, namely God Himself. We are lost with respect to God, and lost from the perspective of God.

Study Questions←⤒🔗

1. Read verse 2 again. The Pharisees summa­rized the gospel well; yet, they rejected it. Think of other people in the Bible who did that. What is the important lesson we can learn from this?
2. Christ did not need to defend Himself and His actions; nevertheless, He still told this parable. Can you surmise His reasons for doing so as it related to i) the publicans and sinners; ii) the Pharisees; and iii) Himself?
3. Read Ezekiel 34:9-12. The Pharisees should have known this Scripture. How does this passage shed light on verses 3-5 of our parable, and how should this have reproved the Pharisees?
4. When the younger son left the father, he would not have thought of himself as losing, but gaining. Why are the things we by nature think are gain actually loss? Compare this with how Paul, a converted Pharisee, spoke in Philippians 3:7-8.
5. Describe the difference it makes whether we see those who are lost as “lost to religion,” or “lost to God.” How should this truth impact how we pray for and speak to those who are lost?

Inthe last installment, we saw that Luke 15 contains essen­tially one parable with three scenes or aspects. In it Christ gloriously opened up the heart of His Father in the salvation of sinners. In our discussion of the first part of the parable, we saw how Christ reveals how man is lost, torn apart from fel­lowship with his Creator. I described it with the term “removal from God.” We are not only lost with respect to God, but also from the perspective of God. The father of the parable expresses this so well when he says: “This my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found” (vv. 24 and 32).

It is no less interesting to look at this parable in terms of its second emphasis, namely, the recovery of that which was lost. In this article, let’s turn to the second major emphasis of the parable, namely, the recovery of the prodigal. Let’s look at five lessons that this parable teaches us about the recovery of the sinner by God.

1. Lost sinners do not usually return to God at the first call←⤒🔗

Though there are exceptions to this rule, sinners are usually quite inventive in remaining apart from God (Eccl. 7:29). In the terms of the parable, the prodigal did not immediately return to his father when the famine first arose, or when he had run out of the goods he had. He only “began to be in want” (v. 14). He didn’t think of the father’s house when the need first arose. In other words, it wasn’t the first pains of hunger that sent him on his way back to his father’s house in repentance. Neither did he see his wretchedness and the heinousness of having left his father’s house the first night he slept without a roof covering his head. If only our first conviction would send us on our way back to God! If only we would feel the irresistible urge to return to God when our need first arises! Instead, our depravity is such that we usually resist His calls as long as we can (John 5:40).

2. Lost sinners would rather serve a harsh taskmaster than to lose their pride←⤒🔗

The prodigal still had some options — or so he thought. He joined himself to a citizen of a far country. This word “join” in the original means that he glued or cemented himself to this man. He essentially engaged himself in covenant with this man, putting him under this man’s authority and rigor. This is astounding considering that there was only hard labor and no benefit at all. He did this “freely.” He was not sold; instead, he sold himself. What a lesson this is about how bound the natural man is! He wasn’t even given the foodstuff of these swine, must less the swine for food, all of which would have been abominable to him as a Jew. In effect, he had come to a position and status that was tanta­mount to being less than that of a pig, which we often refer to as a bottom feeder. This prodigal was lower than low. In this covenant relationship, he gave everything he had, but he received nothing in return. Actually, he did receive one thing: it meant he didn’t have to return to his father’s house. That was all he got out of it! What a wretched trade a proud man will make!

3. Lost sinners have to learn to look away from any other creature←⤒🔗

It’s interesting that the parable states that “no man gave unto him” (v. 16). That means not only that his boss gave him nothing; no one gave him anything. His former friends, of course, had long left him, but wherever he turned, he was faced with a foreboding “No.” There was no giver and no gifts. Nothing was free. The prodigal had to earn everything; yet, according to the parable, he never did earn a thing.

4. Lost sinners need to come to their senses←⤒🔗

The parable reads: “He came to himself” (v. 17). Sin has essentially made a man beside himself. Though he may not appear to act as mad as the demoniac of Gadara, yet, until he is converted, he is never in his right mind (Mark 5:15). He does not view things around him properly. He certainly does not have the proper estimate of God or fellowship with Him. A critical change takes place when a man, like the prodigal, comes to himself (v. 17). The remarkable thing is that, like this prodigal, he begins to reckon with “heaven” (v. 18) or, more precisely, the God of heaven. Until then, it was simply his goods, his fun, his friends, and himself that mattered. But now a profound apprehension of the other world came into his mind and soul. There is a God. There is heaven. There is distance between him and heaven because, said he, “I have sinned.” Even his vocabulary began to change! It’s the vocabulary of a lost soul that is being recovered by God.

Here is God’s image-bearer, deeply fallen, but beginning to reckon with His Creator. And as that happened, everything began to turn upside down. What he thought of as his just right, namely, demanding his inheritance and leaving his father, became a sin against heaven and against his father. He now felt the distance between God and his soul, which had estranged him from his father also. And he confessed it: “I perish with hunger” (v. 17). This word in the original literally means, “I am destroying myself.” He came to see the death into which he had cast himself.

5. Lost sinners need an apprehension of divine mercy←⤒🔗

The way the prodigal continued to speak shows that all of this arose from the new awareness he had of his father. “How many hired servants of my father’s have bread enough and to spare?” (v. 17). The thought of the father’s house came into his mind. It’s interesting that he says “my father.” It is as if he caught himself speaking of his father as “my father.” This was a radical shift, for when he had left his father, he had in effect said to his father that he neither wanted him or a relationship with him. His father could just as well be dead — in fact, it would be better if he was, for the “life of the father” stood between him and his happiness, his ability to really live. From the prodigal’s side, the father was no longer his father.

And yet, according to verse 17, his mind turned to the father as “my father.” Although the son had cut the relation­ship line from his side, the father still maintained it from his side. After all, wouldn’t he later say: “This my son was dead” (v. 24)? That means that even when his son was “dead,” he was still “his son.” And now the prodigal found himself saying, “My father.” It’s as if his speech betrayed him. New life flows through his spiritual veins. A sense of the father’s mercy, however faint, made his wandering heart turn towards home. The 1599 Genevan Bible says it well: “The beginning of repentance is the acknowledging of the mercy of God, which stirreth us to hope well.”

Study Questions←⤒🔗

1. Reflect on this “mighty famine” (v. 14). Humanly speaking, if this famine had never come, the prodigal would never have been converted. What other “mighty” things can God use, besides fam­ines, to stop us in our self-seeking lives? Why do the things we most resist often prove to be the best for us?
2. The prodigal “began to be in want.” This word “want” literally means “need.” Compare this with Psalm 23:1. What is the difference between our true needs and things that we think we need? Does Psalm 23:1 teach that God’s people will never lack anything they think they need?
3. It’s interesting the text says that he “began to be in want.” What did this beginning of need make him do? When did he finish “being in want”?
4. Is it possible to come to Christ without a sense, however small, of His mercy? Determine this by consulting other passages of people coming to the Lord, in either the Old Testament or New Testament.
5. Is it true that conversion only involves a few small changes, mostly unseen? Trace from verses 17-19 how many things turn upside down for the prodigal once “he comes to himself.” What does this teach us about the depth of our fall and the need for the initial and sustained renewal of our mind (Rom. 12:1–2)?

In the last installment, we considered five features about a sinner’s recovery by God.

1. Lost sinners do not usually return to God at the first call.
2. Lost sinners would rather serve a harsh taskmaster than lose their pride.
3. Lost sinners have to learn to look away from any other creature.
4. Lost sinners need to come to their senses.
5. Lost sinners need an apprehension of divine mercy.

There are two overarching truths regarding the sinner’s recov­ery, however, that we have not yet discussed. Let’s look at them both.

God Is the First←⤒🔗

The whole of the sinner’s recovery is the work of God. At first sight, this might appear at odds with how the parable unfolds. After all, isn’t it the son who comes to himself (v. 17)? Isn’t it the son who arises and goes to his father? Isn’t it the son who has an apprehension of mercy? In the parable, the father doesn’t physically go and pick up the son out of the mire and bring him home. Neither does the father send servants to bring the son back.

All that is true. Yet, three things in this chapter make clear that Jesus wants to leave us with this glorious truth of free grace. First, there is the express testimony of the father. Twice, the father says that his son “was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found” (vv. 24, 32). In his self-chosen “death,” the son was unable to recover himself. Neither did he “find himself” while lost. Christ stresses that he “was found.” Thus Christ wants us to know that there is something far more powerful going on in the recovery of the sinner than the exercise of his will. By nature, we are spiritually dead, and our will is unable to bring us out of a state of death into life or out of a state of being lost into a state of being found.

Secondly, there is the proof furnished in the earlier pictures. In the sections about the lost sheep and lost coin, Christ had made it very clear what the cause was for the recovery of lost sinners. The shepherd recovered the lost sheep; the woman recovered the lost coin. By extension, the father recovered the lost son. It’s true that the human father in the parable could not renew the man’s will nor make him alive. All he could do was look out and wait. But remember that God the Father is not limited as a human father is. As God, He can create and recreate; He can bring back from the dead and make alive. In fact, the Scriptures make this assertion repeatedly: “But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ” (Eph. 2:4-5). Likewise, in Titus 3:4-5, Paul wrote: “But after that the kindness and love of God our Saviour toward man appeared, not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us, by the washing of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost.”

Finally, there is the point of what was happening. Remember that the parable was explaining why Jesus was approachable to publicans and sinners (vv. 1-2). They were the lost whom Christ had gone to find. They were the dead whom Christ had come to raise from the dead. They would not have repented on their own, of their own will; no one repents savingly of himself. What all of this means is that Christ had come at the behest of the Father on a recovery mission to save lost sinners and raise them from the dead. The recovery of sinners is God’s work. His love motivated this recovery; His wisdom designed it; His power effects it; His mercy manifests it; His Son mediated it; His Holy Spirit applies it; and heaven rejoices over it. Augustus Toplady summed it up well:

The glory, Lord, from first to last
Is due to thee alone
Aught to ourselves we dare not take
Or rob thee of thy crown.

God Gives the Best←⤒🔗

The prodigal resolves to return to his father with the plea that he might serve him as a hired servant. There is a double movement going on in his soul. He has an apprehension of the fatherhood of his father, and it is clearly the love and mercy of his father that draws him out of the pigsty to set foot before foot and go. And yet, his sin and ill-deservedness still hang like smoke and darkness over his soul so as to think that hired service is about all that he might possibly expect (vv. 19-20). We might imagine him thinking, “At least, I will still be in the vicinity of my father, though, of course, I shouldn’t expect anything but rigorous service, since through my sinful rebellion, I forfeited sonship.” Likewise, returning sinners usually have a mixed apprehension of their relationship to God. Often a measure of what Paul calls “the spirit of bondage to fear” (Rom. 8:15) comes over a person whom God is saving.

Yet, God’s overwhelming love eviscerates the spirit of bondage — He will not even hear it from the returning prod­igal’s lips. His greeting of the returning sinner makes clear that He accepts no legal service. Notice what all He gives:

1. His eyes. “His father saw him” (v. 20). He did not turn from the prodigal, but showered him with the light of His eyes, which conveyed the favor and love the boy had rejected. It was a look of love, though wronged, yet unquenched. Many waters cannot quench this love.
2. His compassion. “And had compassion on him.” The word literally means that His “insides rumbled with pity and love.” Scripture speaks of God’s compassion and mercy as the rumbling of His inner being (see Hos. 11:8).
3. His run. “And ran.” With no regard for the decorum of the day in which no father of rank would run for anything or anyone, this father ran out of eagerness to embrace his child. No humiliation was too great. No minutes or seconds could pass while they might pen­sively amble over towards each other. No, too much time had torn them apart. Every second was too long.
4. His embrace. “He fell on his neck.” Here goodness embraces badness, mercy embraces misery, and grace overwhelms guilt.
5. His kiss. “And kissed him.” This was a kiss of peace and love. A kiss of reconciliation and restoration. A kiss of adoption and friendship.
6. His garments. “Bring forth the best robe and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet” (v. 22). Isaiah had prophesied that the Lord would “appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness” (Isa 61:3). The father is restoring the years that the locust has eaten. He is taking the beggar and making him reign as a king.
7. His fatted calf. “And bring hither the fatted calf and kill it” (v. 23). This was not time for a sheep or a goat while the fatted calf would be kept for a more special occasion. There was not a more special occasion imaginable: he who was dead was now alive.

Study Questions←⤒🔗

1. Why is it important that God be the first in the recovery of the sinner? Does this mean that man has no responsibility?
2. What does it mean that “when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him” (v. 20)? Think of other passages in which God is said to see a sinner in His need and misery.
3. Before the son meets the father, he has all sorts of plans and opinions that ultimately need to go. Compare this to how new converts have all sorts of notions that God’s grace has yet to correct.
4. Is there any significance to the fact that the son is not able to finish his planned speech (v. 21)?
5. Why does the parable spend so much time on all what the father does for the son (vv. 20-23)? What do you find the most moving part of it all, and why?
6. What can we learn from this father about wel­coming returning prodigals?

Luke 15 starts and ends with celebration. The celebration at the beginning was the real celebration; the one at the end further comments on the celebration. It’s important not to skip this conclusion, which is the actual climax of the chapter. Throughout this parable, Jesus has unveiled what is really going on: these sinners are coming to Jesus because of the seeking love and drawing power of God.

Now Christ’s parable comes full circle and we see how it all fits together. The prodigal represents the repenting sinners, the father represents God, and the elder brother repre­sents the murmuring Pharisees and scribes. Thus the father’s celebration is a celebration of the triumph of grace in the lives of sinners. Let’s unpack this in more detail.

The Greatness of the Celebration←⤒🔗

The father’s exuberant welcome of his returning son spills over into a great celebration. Christ’s parable sketches a great and happy feast. There was “music and dancing” (v. 25); emotions were high. Moreover, this was the time for the fatted calf to be eaten (v. 23). Not long ago, the prodigal couldn’t even satisfy his hunger with corn husks; now a sheep or a goat isn’t good enough (v. 23). It had to be the fatted calf — a sign that this was a celebration of the highest sort. The father could not anticipate anything more festive for which he would need to save this fatted calf. The greatest indication of how important this feast was, is that the text specifically says that “they began to be merry” (v. 24). It was not a one-day feast or a weeklong feast. It was simply a feast that begins with no end in sight.

The Reasons for the Celebration←⤒🔗

The parable explicitly lists the following reasons for this celebration:

1. The son was found (v. 24). We are happy whenever we find something we’ve lost. Imagine your happiness if you found your child who had been lost for quite some time!
2. The son was safe and sound (v. 27). After all that the prodigal son had cast himself into, it was a miracle, really, that he was “safe and sound” (v. 27). He had engaged in riotous living; he had been through a famine. To put it in his own words: he was “perishing with hunger” (v. 17). The word in the Greek also has the connotation that he was now “back in his right mind,” sort of like the Gadarene demoniac after Jesus healed him (Mark 5:1). That is indeed what grace does to lost sinners, and it is cause for celebration.
3. The father received him (v. 27). None of these reasons so far would have been cause for celebration if the father had not “received” the son. As hard as it is to believe, there have been human fathers who have not accepted back returning children. But this father received his son with open arms, and the celebration itself is magnificent proof of it.
4. The son was alive (v. 24). This celebration wasn’t a birthday; it was a resurrection celebration. Before, there was the sorrow of death; now it had been turned to the joy of new life. This was the celebration of a grave stone rolling away and a man thought dead being alive and breathing once again.

The Test of Celebration←⤒🔗

Not everyone was celebrating, however. In fact, one man was angry about the celebration. Not only did he not see and agree with the reasons for celebration, this elder brother had per­sonal reasons for exasperation. He was furious because others are festive.

This shows how the whole celebration was a test of whether people know grace. If they understood grace, they would have a gracious spirit, and they could not help but identify with the joy of perishing sinners that are saved. Grace and joy are “close cousins,” you might say. Where the one is, the other will not be far behind.

This does not mean that everyone can always discern the beginnings of new life equally well. For example, when Saul of Tarsus was saved, some in Jerusalem “believed not that he was a disciple” (Acts 9:26). This still can happen today. But the anger of the elder brother is different. He was still in the bondage of the covenant of works, and he was envious and vexed that his brother was not suffering as he was. Let the conversion of sinners around us be a test for us whether we have truly tasted that the Lord is gracious, or whether we perhaps are still operating under a legalistic scheme and can rejoice only when others are in the same bondage as we — or even greater.

The Call to Celebration←⤒🔗

Jesus’ actions always implicitly call to us. Doesn’t God call us to have the same mind as was in Christ Jesus (Phil. 2:5)? When Jesus “received sinners and ate with them” (15:2), this is not something we can leave to the Lord and not be concerned to emulate. Indeed, Jesus’ reception of sinners is worth much more than our acceptance of them, and yet the parable is filled with calls to know and join in the rejoicing of God in heaven (15:7, 10). This joy is “the concert of heaven.” The father of the parable issued it in two ways:

1. Generally and invitingly. He says: “Let us eat and be merry” (v. 23). From this we can learn that God Himself rejoices over sinners whom He saves. In the words of Zephaniah, “he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing” (Zeph. 3:18). And He invites people everywhere to join in this joy — much like the Psalms so often do when they call heaven and earth, nations and angels, to rejoice over the works of the Lord (e.g., Ps. 97:12; 98:4).
2. Specifically and entreatingly. One of the most surprising aspects of the parable is the final statement of the father: “It was meet that we should make merry and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again...” (v. 32). He was explaining the need to rejoice in a way that the elder brother should be able to understand: “It was meet.” This is the terminology of “duty” and “propriety,” which the Pharisees were so focused on. They were constantly concerned about these two things. Using concepts that they should recognize and esteem, the father “entreated” the elder brother” (v. 28). This word “entreated” is the same word that Jesus used to characterize the work of the Holy Spirit (parakaleo — as we sometimes say, the Spirit is the Paraklete). How true it is that everyone, including Pharisees, needs this powerful work of the Holy Spirit to break down all resistance against the glorious “logic” of grace, and to see its perfect “meetness” for themselves and others.

Study Questions←⤒🔗

1. Find some texts that prove that grace and joy are “close cousins.” Why is having a gracious spirit such a test of having yourself received grace?
2. We might not be as angry as the elder brother, but can we at all identify with the elder brother’s mentality? How is Matthew 23:4 something we do or could fall into?
3. We cannot infallibly tell a true conversion from a temporary or false one like Christ and the Father can. Does this mean we should not be glad whenever we see any sign of turning, even if we can’t be sure it is a true turning to God?
4. Would you agree that the father “stooped” to the level of the elder son’s way of thinking? Is that the same as meeting people “half-way”?
5. Why doesn’t the parable tell us how the elder brother responded to the father? What responses are possible? How does the work of Holy Spirit fit into this?