Commentary - Luke 15:11-32

Bird's-eye view

This parable, the third and climatic of the three parables of lostness in Luke 15, is a masterful depiction of the gospel. Jesus tells this story to the grumbling Pharisees and scribes, who were offended that He received sinners and ate with them. In response, Jesus paints a picture of two sons, both of whom are lost in different ways. The younger son is lost in flagrant, prodigal rebellion, while the older son is lost in sullen, self-righteous obedience. At the center of the story is the father, whose radical, running, and celebratory grace is the only hope for both of them. This is not simply a story about a wayward child coming home; it is a profound illustration of two ways to be alienated from God, and the one way of reconciliation, which is by grace alone, received through faith alone, on account of Christ alone.

The parable forces the listener, particularly the religiously respectable listener, to confront the state of his own heart. It asks the question: can you rejoice when God shows lavish, unmerited favor to a notorious sinner? If you cannot, then you are the older brother, and you are just as lost as the one in the pigsty. The story is a glorious invitation to leave behind both the far country of rebellion and the cold field of self-righteousness, and to come into the Father's house for the feast.

Outline

Context in Luke

The parable of the two lost sons is the culmination of a chapter dedicated to the theme of God's joy over repentant sinners. The entire chapter is a direct response to the criticism leveled at Jesus by the Pharisees and scribes: "This man receives sinners and eats with them" (Luke 15:2). Jesus does not deny the charge; He glories in it. He first tells the parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin, both of which emphasize the active seeking of the owner and the great joy and celebration upon finding what was lost. This third parable deepens the theme. It is not just about God finding the lost, but about the reaction of the "found" to God's grace toward others. The older brother represents the Pharisees, who believed their obedience earned them a special standing with God and who could not comprehend a grace that would welcome the tax collectors and prostitutes they despised.

Verse by Verse Commentary

v. 11-12 And He said, “A man had two sons. And the younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the estate that falls to me.’ So he divided his wealth between them.”

The story begins simply, but the first request is an earthquake. For a son to ask for his inheritance while his father was still alive was a profound and brutal insult. It was the cultural equivalent of saying, "Father, I wish you were dead. Your life is an inconvenience to me. I want your things, but I do not want you." It is a raw picture of sin. Sin wants the gifts of God without God Himself. And the father, a picture of our gracious God, grants the request. God in His sovereignty will often give us the rope we think we want, allowing us to pursue the consequences of our rebellious desires.

v. 13 And not many days later, the younger son gathered everything together and went on a journey into a distant country, and there he squandered his estate living recklessly.

The separation is immediate. Once he has the goods, he is gone. The "distant country" is the land of alienation from God. It is a place where we believe we are finally free from the Father's authority, but in reality, it is a place of slavery. There, he "squandered" his estate. The word means to scatter, to throw away. Sin is always a waste. It promises fulfillment but delivers only emptiness. "Reckless living" is a life of dissolution, a life that has come unglued from its created purpose.

v. 14-16 Now when he had spent everything, a severe famine occurred in that country, and he began to be impoverished. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he was desiring to be fed with the pods that the swine were eating, and no one was giving anything to him.

The consequences of his sin now crash down upon him. The money runs out, a famine hits, and he is destitute. This is the inevitable bankruptcy of a life lived apart from God. His fall is dramatic. He, a Jewish son, hires himself out to a Gentile to feed pigs, an animal declared unclean under the Mosaic law. He has hit the absolute bottom. He is so hungry he longs to eat the pig's food, but even this is denied him. "No one was giving anything to him." The world that promises you everything will abandon you with nothing when your resources are gone. This is the kindness of God, for it is this utter destitution that brings him to his senses.

v. 17-19 But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired men have more than enough bread, but I am dying here with hunger! I will rise up and go to my father, and will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me as one of your hired men.” ’

Here is the turning point. Repentance is a form of returning to sanity. In the pigsty, he finally sees clearly. He contrasts his miserable state with the abundance of his father's house, where even the servants are well-fed. His planned confession is good. He acknowledges his sin is first against God ("against heaven") and then against his father. He recognizes his unworthiness. But there is still a flaw in his thinking. "Make me as one of your hired men" is an attempt to bargain. He is not yet thinking in terms of grace, but in terms of a deal. He hopes to earn his way back, even if only to the lowest position. He does not yet understand his father's heart.

v. 20-21 So he rose up 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. And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’

The father's response is the heart of the gospel. He was watching. He was waiting. He saw his son while he was still a speck on the horizon. And what does he do? He feels compassion, and he runs. An elderly patriarch in that culture would not run; it was a gross indignity. But this father casts all dignity aside in his passionate love for his returning son. This is the scandalous grace of God, running to meet us in our filth. He embraces and kisses him, signs of full acceptance and forgiveness, and he does this before the son can finish his confession. Grace precedes and overwhelms our repentance. The son gets out the first part of his speech, but the father cuts him off before he can get to the "make me a hired servant" part. The father will not have his son as a servant. He will only have him as a son.

v. 22-24 But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly 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 fattened calf, slaughter it, and let us eat and celebrate, for this son of mine was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.’ And they began to celebrate.

The restoration is as lavish as the rebellion was wretched. The best robe signifies honor and righteousness, covering his shame. The ring signifies restored authority and family identity. The sandals are the mark of a son, not a slave, who would have been barefoot. And the fattened calf was reserved for a magnificent feast, a great celebration. The father's justification for this party is theological. He uses the language of resurrection: "was dead and has come to life again." This is what salvation is. It is a passing from death to life. The gospel is not a pat on the back; it is a resurrection and a feast.

v. 25-30 “Now his older son was in the field... he became angry and was not wanting to go in... he answered and said to his father, ‘Look! For so many years I have been serving you and never have I neglected a command of yours. And yet never have you given me a young goat... But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your wealth with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him.’

Now we meet the other lost son. He was lost not in the far country, but in the field right next to the house. His is the lostness of the self-righteous. He is angry that grace has been shown to his brother. His obedience was not born of love, but of a slavish desire to earn his father's favor. He says, "I have been serving you," but the Greek word is for slaving. He sees his relationship with his father as a transaction, and he has been keeping a meticulous record. He is filled with envy and self-pity. Notice how he distances himself: "this son of yours," not "my brother." He is a tale-bearer, accusing his brother of squandering the money on prostitutes. His heart is cold, hard, and joyless. He is the perfect picture of the Pharisees to whom Jesus is speaking.

v. 31-32 And he said to him, ‘Child, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, for this brother of yours was dead and is alive, and was lost and has been found.’ ”

The father's response is gentle, yet firm. "Child, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours." The older son's problem was not that he was deprived of good things, but that his heart was not right. He had access to everything the father had, but he could find no joy in it because he was consumed with his own performance. The father then corrects him. "We had to celebrate." The restoration of a sinner is a divine necessity that demands joy. And he says, "this brother of yours," restoring the family bond that the older son tried to sever. The parable ends here, with the older son still outside the party. The invitation is extended, but Jesus leaves the choice open, forcing the Pharisees, and every reader since, to decide. Will you come in and join the celebration of grace, or will you stay outside, clinging to your own righteousness?

Application

Every person who hears this story is one of these two sons. You are either lost in the far country of open rebellion, or you are lost in the field of resentful, self-righteous morality. Both are forms of alienation from the Father's heart. The younger son thought freedom was found in escaping his father's presence. The older son thought acceptance was found in slaving for his father's approval. Both were wrong.

The good news of this parable is that the Father's grace is sufficient for both kinds of lostness. He runs to the rebellious son in the pigsty and pleads with the resentful son in the field. The way into the party is the same for both: you must abandon your own strategy for happiness and accept the Father's lavish, unearned, and celebratory welcome. You must stop trying to make deals, whether for a position as a servant or for a goat for your friends, and simply allow yourself to be loved. The central question this parable leaves us with is not "Are you the good son or the bad son?" but rather, "Will you come to the party?" Will you rejoice in the scandalous, free, and sovereign grace of God?