Remember the song Football’s coming home? I have a version that plays in my head that the prodigal son recalls.
“I’m going, I’m going home, even if dad hates me, I’m coming home.”
The grand finale of the LOST parables is prodigal son coming home. After squandering his inheritance in a distant land, the younger son hits rock bottom among pigs. In a moment of clarity he “came to his senses” and realized, “How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death!” (Luke 15:17). Unlike the lost sheep or coin, no one goes searching for him. Yet without any human intervention, he awakens to his own folly and begins the journey home. Today I want to reflect on three aspects flowing from that turning point: the awakening of the heart, the Spirit’s unseen work, and the father’s radical welcome.
1. Awakening to Our Deepest Need
When Jesus says, “When he came to his senses…” (Luke 15:17), he points us to an inner reckoning every lost soul must experience. The Greek literally reads, “he was brought to himself.” It’s the moment you stop believing the lies you’ve swallowed. You realize life as you’ve known it—chasing popularity, possessions, or pleasure—leaves you empty and hungry.
This awakening is never cosmetic. It cuts through excuses and self-justifications. The younger son could have blamed heritage, culture, or his friends’ bad counsel. Instead he confronts the truth: he is starving. Each of us has wandered into pig pens of bitterness, gossip, or vice, only to discover that shame and separation from the Father leave us far worse off than any feast we once enjoyed.
The prodigal’s insight teaches us: spiritual hunger precedes real repentance. We can offer prayers and church attendance, but until we recognize our true need—until our hearts roar with spiritual famine—we never begin the journey back. That moment of “coming to our senses” is painful, yet liberating. It turns our eyes from glittering idols to the father’s open arms.
Key aspects of this awakening include:
- Conviction of emptiness: acknowledging that nothing outside God can satisfy the soul.
- Honesty about failure: naming the attitudes—grumbling, criticism, mockery—that feed our exile.
- Turning inward before turning home: accepting that restoration begins with personal accountability.
As we reflect on our own pig pens, may the Spirit provoke in us a holy dissatisfaction that leads to confession, humility, and ultimately, the first step toward home.
2. The Spirit’s Unseen Pursuit
One stunning feature of the prodigal saga is that no human agent rescues the wayward son. Unlike the shepherd who leaves ninety-nine sheep, or the woman who lights a lamp to find her lost coin, no one goes out to fetch him. Instead, “he came to his senses” entirely on his own. Yet this inner shift is the fruit of the Father’s Spirit stirring deep within, awakening memories of home and heartache over separation.
Jesus’s parable teaches that God’s restorative work often moves beyond our sight and outside our plans. The Spirit whispers truth to souls marooned in sin, rekindles desire for the Father’s love, and breaks the chains of apathy or rebellion. While we pour energy into outreach events, counseling sessions, and invitations, the Spirit is already at work in places we cannot reach, convicting hearts and igniting the instinct to return.
Scripture affirms this unseen ministry throughout:
- Ezekiel 36:26 – “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you.”
- John 6:44 – “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.”
- Titus 3:5 – “He saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy.”
In this season, people have shared the gospel faithfully and yet have seen little fruit—while others, suddenly awaken and run back to the Father. It reminds us that our role is to be faithful sowers, trusting the Spirit to water what we sow. We don’t need to manufacture awakenings. We partner with the Spirit’s gracious and sovereign movement.
How do we align with this invisible pursuit?
- Pray persistently for those far from God, trusting that the Spirit is already at work.
- Cultivate spiritual expectancy, believing that every heart is a potential horizon where the prodigal may appear.
- Keep the father’s heartsong on our lips—grace, welcome, joy—so our words echo the Spirit’s invitation.
As you go about your day, remember: someone you know may be wrestling in secret, poised for the moment they “come to their senses.” Let your prayers and presence anticipate and welcome that miracle.
3. The Father’s Extravagant Welcome
Luke 15:20–24 bursts with the joy of reconciliation. “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…’ But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring out the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And bring the fattened calf, kill it. Let us eat and celebrate, because this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’”
Every detail of that homecoming scene teaches us how God responds when prodigals return:
- Compassion Acts First The father doesn’t wait for tears or correct theology. He sees, feels, and runs. He throws cultural restraint to the wind so he can meet his child headlong. In God’s economy, the posture of love precedes the posture of praise or confession.
- Restoration Precedes Reprimand Some might say, “Teach him a lesson; let him feel the consequences.” Not the father. He restores robe, ring, and status before any mention of penance. When God forgives, He covers shame with dignity and honors us as beloved sons and daughters.
- Feasting Follows Forgiveness Killing the fattened calf signals joy beyond moderation. Our celebrations for returning prodigals mirror heaven’s celebrations over one sinner who repents (Luke 15:7). The feast invites the community to rejoice, not judge.
When people awaken in secret and return, our response must mirror the father’s extravagance. Our gatherings become feasts of grace. Each welcome hug, each act of forgiveness, each celebration meal embodies the gospel.
Practical ways to embody this welcome:
- Offer tangible symbols of belonging—sharing meals, giving small gifts, commissioning restored individuals into ministry.
- Preach and model a theology of full restoration—no lingering guilt, only gratitude.
- Celebrate publicly: testimonies, songs of rejoicing, communal prayers of thanksgiving.
Let us be a congregation that doesn’t simply announce the gospel but lives it in radical welcome.
Conclusion: Running to Meet Them
The prodigal son’s journey home sprang from three converging actions: an awakened heart, the Spirit’s hidden pursuit, and the father’s extravagant welcome. Luke 15 reminds us that no matter how far someone has strayed, the prodigal’s homecoming is always possible.
Today, let us adopt the father’s posture: watching the horizon, poised to run, bursting with compassion the moment a lost child appears. As we pray, labor, and worship, let us remember that God’s Spirit is already on the move—waking hearts, softening wills, prompting steps homeward. When that moment arrives, we do not stand still. We rush out, we robe, we ring, we feast.
May our churches be known as places where prodigals come home and find no scorn, only celebration. May our lives mirror the father’s welcome, so that every “come to your senses” becomes a “you have come to your father.” They’re coming home—and today our Father is running.
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