As I was contemplating Father’s Day, my mind – unnaturally turned to the parable of Jesus in Luke 15:11-32. It is famous as the son of a stomp dig, but to be honest, the title is a bit misleading. A more accurate title may be a respectful father, a waiting father, or even a good father (Netflix Docusary has a lovely ring). At the heart of this story is that it is not the son’s rebellion, but the father’s radical and costly love.
In this parable, let’s consider three types of costs.
1. Cost to let go
The parable begins when the young son marches and effectively says, “Dad, I want my inheritance now.” Essentially: “You better die to me.” It’s surprisingly uncomfortable. In Middle Eastern culture, this would have been like punching fathers in public places in front of the entire village, and asking for taxi fares.
And what does Father do? He lets go.
The land of the ancestors must be handed over generations, divided and liquidated. It was like a family selling farms, businesses, and homes all at once, so the youngest can blow it all away with what the Bible calls “wild living.”
The father absorbs the humiliation.
Culturally, he should have refused. His beard-worthy father would have taken the young man aside and said, “I don’t think you’re straight, son. Sit down, take the kebab and talk about this.” Instead, the father absorbs the humiliation. He says yes. And in doing so, it’s a town story…but not a good way.
Here is a quiet pain that all parents know. Sometimes, loving someone means letting them go, even if they know they’re heading straight for the disaster of their design.
God the Father did this in Adam and Eve. He gave them freedom knowing they might use it stupidly. He does the same thing as us.
2. Welcome costs
My son came back and was filthy and hungry. And father? He doesn’t even finish him. He runs to him, the dignified man of that time would. Imagine an elderly Jewish patriarch lifting his robes and sprinting through the town in his sandals. That’s what Jesus explains.
It’s a scandalous bounty.
The embrace is not careful. It’s luxury. Robes, rings and roast beef on the table. The greasy calves get it! The son, who effectively declared “You are dead to me,” is now celebrated with music and dance. It’s a scandalous bounty.
Let’s be real: Many of the villages would have been sick of it. “He will reward the rebellion!” they whisper. “With weakness dressed in love!” But his father doesn’t care about his appearance. He cares about reconciliation with his son.
God welcomes us the same way. There are no lectures. There is no probation period. Hold a party with your arms. That’s a blessing.
And here’s the kicker: the cost of bounty. The father of the story absorbs shame. And our heavenly Father has absorbed the ultimate shame of the cross. Dignity was exchanged for rescue.
3. Celebrating costs
It’s not just that the father let his son go home. He throws a very loud party, awakens his neighbor and makes his brother angry. “He doesn’t deserve this!” his older son smokes. “I was loyal and I got nothing!”
Most of us can sympathize with our brother.
Now most of us can sympathize with our brother. Let’s face it, he says, “Why does he get a cake? He’s the one who burned the garden!”
But my father’s response is important: “You were always with me. But this son of mine is dead and alive again!”
It’s a challenge for all of us. When people repent, do we celebrate…or are you stupid? Are we more obsessed with fairness than forgiveness? Heaven is not interested in merit badges. It has to do with mercy.
Father costs money
This Father’s Day, if you are a father, grandfather, godfather, or father figure, you have a great and sacred calling. It may not come with applause or hashtags, but heaven will notice. Every time you show grace you model God’s heart, speak truth, forgive freely, or even say, “We’ve not been lost, I just took a scenic route,” you model God’s heart.
Paternity is both emotionally and mentally expensive.
Paternity is both emotionally and mentally expensive. It requires wisdom, patience, sacrifice – and sometimes there is a willingness to be misunderstood.
But it’s worth it.
And if you’re not a father…well, you have it. Maybe you remember him lovingly. Perhaps the relationship had been destroyed or absent. But here is the invitation to the parable. Not only your earthly father, but your heavenly father, but what you see in the story. Someone who runs to meet you. You will bear the costs. Party thrower.
And maybe if that is the love we received, then it is the kind of love we call back. After all, Grace works both ways.
Father’s Day Prayer
Beloved Father, we thank his father for his gifts and calling.
We give you praise for your father, who reflects your kindness, strength and joy.
For those who are struggling to feel this day, your comfort may come close through loss, pain and absence.
Help all fathers and fathers walk with wisdom, guide them with love, and become men after their hearts.
And for all of us, the children of the earthly fathers help us to show grace, as we received it.
In the name of the son who taught me this story, Amen.
Originally published by Philo Trust. It was reissued with permission.
J. John is an evangelist, minister, speaker, broadcaster and writer. He has been in the mission for 40 years. He spoke in towns, cities and universities in 69 countries, and founded the Philo Trust in 1982, organising offerings for various evangelical ministry. J.John’s Weekly Podcast, The J.John Podcast, features a range of interviews with Christians in all their journeys and lectures. Click here to listen. J.John’s books can be ordered via Jjohn.com or other online or through physical bookstores.
The Philo Trust was founded in 1982 by J. John to organize evangelistic events and projects, to naturally share faith with Christians, share leadership evangelists, and create books and resources to help people on their journeys of faith.
