A sermon in Lajamanu on Parable of Lost Son
1 John 1:9 (NKJV) “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
Psalm 51:10 (NKJV) “Create in me a clean heart, O God, And renew a steadfast spirit within me.”
Luke 15:11-32 (NKJV) – The Parable of the Lost Son (the heart of Luke 15, which also includes the parables of the Lost Sheep and Lost Coin)
Then He said: “A certain man had two sons. And the younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the portion of goods that falls to me.’ So he divided to them his livelihood. And not many days after, the younger son gathered all together, journeyed to a far country, and there wasted his possessions with prodigal living. But when he had spent all, there arose a severe famine in that land, and he began to be in want. Then he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country, and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would gladly have filled his stomach with the pods that the swine ate, and no one gave him anything.
“But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you, and I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me like one of your hired servants.”’
“And he arose and came to his father. But when he was still a long way off, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him. And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and in your sight, and am no longer worthy to be called your son.’
“But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring out the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand and sandals on his feet. And bring the fatted calf here and kill it, and let us eat and be merry; for this my son was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ And they began to be merry.
“Now his older son was in the field. And as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked what these things meant. And he said to him, ‘Your brother has come, and because he has received him safe and sound, your father has killed the fatted calf.’
“But he was angry and would not go in. Therefore his father came out and pleaded with him. So he answered and said to his father, ‘Lo, these many years I have been serving you; I never transgressed your commandment at any time; and yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might make merry with my friends. But as soon as this son of yours came, who has devoured your livelihood with harlots, you killed the fatted calf for him.’
“And he said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that I have is yours. It was right that we should make merry and be glad, for your brother was dead and is alive again, and was lost and is found.’”
Homily: The Running Father and the Grace That Heals the Jealous Heart
Dear friends in Christ,
Today we stand before one of the most tender pictures of God’s love in all of Scripture—the Parable of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15. It is a story not just about a wayward boy who comes home, but about a father whose love is so extravagant that it shatters every expectation of dignity and fairness. And it is a story that speaks directly into our own broken families, our long-held resentments, and the surprising grace that sets us free.
Look again at verse 20: “But when he was still a long way off, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran…” In the culture of Jesus’ day, that single action was shocking. A respected older man—head of the household—never ran. To run, he had to hitch up his long robes and expose his legs, an act of public humiliation and shame. Yet this father did exactly that. He exposed himself, sprinting down the road in undignified haste, not because he was weak, but because his love was fierce. He ran to reach his son before the village could greet the returning prodigal with the kezazah ceremony—the ritual of breaking pottery and declaring the son cut off forever. The father took the shame upon himself so his boy would not have to bear it. That is the heart of our heavenly Father. He runs toward us in our mess, embracing us before we can even finish our confession.
The younger son had squandered everything in wild living. But the older son stayed home. He worked the fields, kept the rules, and lived legally right. When the party began for his returning brother, jealousy boiled over: “Lo, these many years I have been serving you… yet you never gave me a young goat… but as soon as this son of yours came… you killed the fatted calf for him!” (vv. 29-30). The older brother had no right to be jealous—his father’s love was never scarce, and “all that I have is yours” (v. 31). Yet his resentment was real. He had done everything “right,” while his brother had run wild. The older son’s faithfulness had turned into bitterness because he forgot that grace is not earned—it is given.
I want to share a story that belongs to one of us here—our brother David Ball. David knows the older son’s heart intimately. He grew up in a dysfunctional family marked by deep pain. His father was a great man in many ways, yet the home was fractured. David lost his sister—his father’s daughter—to kidney disease. The marriage to David’s mother ended in a messy divorce. While David’s other siblings ran wild like the prodigal, he stayed the course, living responsibly. But he and his father never got along. The estrangement grew until it became permanent on December 9, 2009, the day his father died. The rift was never healed on this side of eternity.
David could have stayed locked in that resentment. Many do. But here is the miracle of the gospel: David identifies with the older brother who was jealous, yet he is glad—deeply glad—for God’s love. That same love that moved the father to run and expose himself has given David the grace to forgive his father. Through confession and the cleansing blood of Christ (1 John 1:9), David has prayed the prayer of the psalmist: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me” (Psalm 51:10). The jealousy has been replaced by peace. The wound has become a witness.
Beloved, whether you see yourself in the younger son who ran away or the older son who stayed and struggled with resentment, the Father is running toward you today. He is not waiting for you to fix yourself. He is not keeping score. His love is lavish, undignified, and relentless. He exposes His own heart on the cross so that you can come home.
So come. Confess. Receive the clean heart and the steadfast spirit. And then, like David, extend that same forgiveness to those who have hurt you. The party is already prepared—the fatted calf is on the table. Your Father says, “It was right that we should make merry and be glad, for your brother was dead and is alive again, and was lost and is found.”
In the name of the Father who runs, the Son who reconciles, and the Spirit who renews—amen.
Visual Prompt for Grok Imagine (or similar AI image generator):
"Create a wide horizontal three-panel banner illustration in a vibrant, realistic biblical art style with warm golden-hour lighting, rich earthy tones, and dramatic emotional storytelling, evoking classic religious paintings like those of Rembrandt but with modern clarity and detail. The banner is divided into three distinct vertical panels with subtle ornate borders resembling ancient scrolls or temple carvings, set against a textured parchment or stone background. Title the overall banner in elegant serif lettering at the top: 'The Prodigal Son – Luke 15'.
Left Panel (First Century Jewish Family Home): A defiant young Jewish man in his late teens, wearing a simple tunic and head covering typical of 1st-century Judea, stands angrily before his elderly father in a modest stone courtyard home with olive trees and distant hills. The son gestures demandingly with an outstretched hand, holding a small bag, his face contorted in rebellion as he demands his inheritance and threatens to leave forever. The father looks sorrowful and reluctant, holding a small chest of coins, with a concerned older brother visible in the background. Warm afternoon light, dusty atmosphere, emotional tension.
Middle Panel (The Pig Sty – Months Later): The same young man, now ragged, dirty, and exhausted, slumps in despair amid a filthy pig sty in a far country. He is barefoot, clothes torn and soiled, surrounded by muddy pigs eating pods from a trough. His face shows deep regret and hunger, skin sunburned, hair disheveled. Bleak, desolate landscape with barren fields and a distant village under an overcast sky, conveying famine, shame, and rock-bottom desperation. Muted, cool, somber colors.
Right Panel (The Joyful Return): The repentant son, still in rags but with a hopeful expression, approaches from afar on a dusty road. His elderly father, filled with compassion, joyfully runs toward him with arms wide open, robes hiked up undignified as he sprints (exposing his legs in a culturally shocking act of love). The father’s face beams with tears of joy and unconditional love. In the background, servants prepare a robe, ring, and sandals near a home with a fatted calf being prepared for a feast. Golden sunset light bathes the reunion in warmth and hope, symbolizing forgiveness and restoration.
Highly detailed faces with strong emotion, historically accurate 1st-century Jewish clothing and architecture, cinematic composition, epic scale, uplifting and moving overall mood, 16:9 wide aspect ratio for a banner, sharp focus, masterpiece quality."