The Prodigal Son, the Father, and the Other Son

 

My Story as the “Other Son”

I grew up in church. I was the one who never rebelled, never “ran away.” While others partied, pushed boundaries, and made mistakes, I was the good kid. I read my Bible, went to youth group, served on the worship team and the kids ministry. People looked at me and said, “That one is faithful.” And honestly, I wore that like a badge of honor.

But somewhere along the way, pride started to creep in. I began to compare myself to others. When friends who had messed up came back to God and everyone celebrated their testimony, I found myself thinking: What about me? Where’s my celebration? I’ve been here all along.

I wouldn’t have admitted it out loud, but deep down, I felt overlooked. I thought God owed me something for being “good.” My relationship with Him became more about rules, duty, and appearances than about love.

Then one day, it hit me: I was the older brother in the story of the prodigal son. I had stayed, yes—but my heart was just as far from the Father’s as the one who had left. I had been living like a servant, trying to earn what was already mine as a son.

God began to show me that His love isn’t about keeping score. His grace doesn’t run out when it’s poured on someone else. The Father’s joy isn’t divided—it’s abundant. My brother or sister’s testimony doesn’t lessen mine. Their return doesn’t mean I’ve been forgotten.

What I needed was grace too—not for rebellion, but for my pride. I had to learn to stop striving, stop comparing, and simply rest in the Father’s love.

Now I see it clearly: I don’t need a party to prove His love. I already have His presence. And that is better than anything I thought I was missing.

I am still walking this out, and so can you - His love is better than anything we are thinking we are missing. 

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✨ Sometimes the hardest thing isn’t coming back home after running away—it’s realizing you’ve been in the Father’s house all along but missing His heart.

The Prodigal Son, the Father, and the Other Son

The parable of the prodigal son in Luke 15:11–32 is one of the most beloved stories Jesus told. We often focus on the younger son who takes his inheritance, squanders it on reckless living, and eventually returns home in shame—only to be embraced by the extravagant love of his father. But if we slow down, we see that this story is about three characters: the prodigal, the father, and the older son. And each one has something to teach us about our own walk with God.

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The Prodigal Son: Brokenness and Return

The younger son represents rebellion, selfishness, and pride. He wanted the father’s blessings but not the father’s presence. How often do we do the same—chasing after what God can give us rather than cherishing who He is?

Yet when the younger son finally comes to the end of himself, starving and alone, he remembers his father’s house. His journey home shows us the power of repentance. True repentance is not just feeling sorry; it’s turning back to the Father with humility.

The beauty of this story is that his return is met not with condemnation, but with restoration. The robe, the ring, the sandals, and the feast all declare: “You are still my son.”

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The Father: Radical Grace That Defies Culture

The heart of the parable is the father. While the son is still a long way off, the father sees him and runs to him. At first glance, this may seem like a tender detail, but in the first-century Jewish world, it was nothing short of scandalous.

Men of honor in Middle Eastern culture wore long, flowing robes. To run, a man would have to gather up his tunic, tying it around his waist and exposing his legs. For a dignified patriarch, this would have been deeply humiliating. Running was for children or servants—not for respected elders. In fact, to show one’s legs in public was considered shameful.

Yet Jesus paints the picture of a father who is willing to shame himself to save his son from greater shame. Some scholars note that if the villagers had reached the prodigal first, they might have performed a “kezazah” ceremony, a public rejection where the community would break a pot at the young man’s feet to symbolize the broken relationship, cutting him off permanently. The father runs to get there before anyone else can—shielding his son from disgrace, bearing the humiliation himself.

This detail is breathtaking. The father doesn’t wait with crossed arms. He doesn’t demand an apology before he acts. He runs, he embraces, he kisses. He chooses shame so his son can have honor. He chooses humiliation so his son can be restored.

Does that sound familiar? It should. This is exactly what Christ did for us. Hebrews 12:2 tells us that Jesus endured the cross, “despising its shame,” so that we could be reconciled to God. The running father in this parable foreshadows the lengths our Heavenly Father would go to redeem His children—humbling Himself, taking on shame, and publicly restoring us to Himself.

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The Older Son: Resentment and Pride

Then there is the older son. He never left home, never wasted the inheritance, never rebelled. But his heart is just as far from the father as his brother’s once was. He cannot celebrate grace because he feels entitled to blessing.

The older son teaches us that proximity does not equal intimacy. You can live in the father’s house and still miss the father’s heart. His resentment reveals self-righteousness, bitterness, and a lack of understanding of the father’s love.

How often do we slip into the older brother’s shoes—comparing ourselves to others, keeping score, or resenting when grace is extended to those we don’t think deserve it?

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The Invitation for Us

This parable leaves us with a question: Who do we identify with today?

• Maybe you are the prodigal, needing to take that first step home.

• Maybe you are the older brother, struggling to rejoice in God’s mercy toward others.

• Maybe you need to sit with the father’s love and let it reshape your heart.

The story is ultimately about the Father who loves both sons—rebellious or resentful—and longs to bring them both into His joy.

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Reflection Questions

1. Do I sometimes want God’s blessings more than His presence?

2. Where do I need to repent and return to the Father?

3. Do I struggle with resentment when others receive grace?

4. How can I live more fully in the Father’s love today?

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A Prayer

Father, thank You for Your unending love. Forgive me for the times I’ve run from You, and forgive me for the times I’ve been prideful like the older brother. Help me to return to You with humility and to rejoice in Your mercy, both in my life and in the lives of others. Thank You for bearing my shame so that I could be restored as Your child. Amen.