The Open Arms of God the Father

Maria Troutman

The Open Arms of God the Father

In his Gospel, St. Luke tells the story of the prodigal son, which is probably the most recognizable and familiar of the parables recounted to us by the four evangelists. But sometimes, familiarity with a story can have the effect of closing our eyes to the wonders contained within even the most astounding tales—and this is especially true of the story of the prodigal son. This parable, immediately following the parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin, perhaps better than any other parable told by Our Lord to the crowds that travelled with him, reveals the heart of the Father Who sent Him: in the father we see the love, mercy, and magnanimity of a man who has been profoundly hurt by his younger son but forgives freely and abundantly, which reflects the love and mercy of God Who forgives us completely and irrevocably each time we return to Him through the sacrament of Confession. But we also see, in the younger son, what it means to be truly repent and to turn back to a father from whom we expect severity and judgment, like a penitent who has sinned egregiously against God, neighbor, and himself, and is ultimately able to come to his senses and fly home to his Father’s arms; and in the older son—perhaps the most relatable for many of us—we encounter the pangs of jealousy and indignation, rather than the joy, that might poison our hearts when we feel ourselves ill-used by a God Who does not seem to notice our faithfulness. In other words, this parable illustrates beautifully both the natural and supernatural dynamics that often unfold in families and communities, as well as the feelings that might flood our hearts when we play certain roles. Above all, in the days preceding Father’s Day, there is hardly a better passage from the Sacred Scriptures for husbands and fathers to meditate on, for from this parable told by Our Lord to the multitudes we can learn about Who God the Father is and how He asks us to imitate Him. 

St. Luke begins by telling us that the younger of the two sons, the prodigal, asks his father for the “share of the property that will belong to [him]”—that is, he asks for what he does not yet have a right to ask, since it does not yet belong to him (Luke 15:12). And yet, his father divides his property between his two sons and gives his younger son what he asks for. The son goes on to squander his entire inheritance through sinful living, only to find himself penniless and in a distant country that has been struck by a famine; and it is then, finally, when he sees that the pigs he has been hired to feed are eating better than he is, that he realizes that in his father’s home, he would have all of his needs met, and more. But in addition to realizing that returning to his father would be materially beneficial to him, he acknowledges that in order to restore himself in his father’s eyes, he must return as a penitent, acknowledging that he has “sinned against heaven and before [his father]”; he must return to his father in humility and accept justice (Luke 15:18).

This is the correct disposition for the younger son to bring into his reconciliation with his father, for it is true that he has sinned against heaven and against his father. But what makes this parable so beautiful and so revealing of the love of the God the Father for us is not the penitence of the prodigal, but the unbounded and limitless mercy of his father. As the son approaches home but is “still far off,” his father sees him and “his heart [is] filled with compassion,” and he runs to his son in order to put his arms around him and embrace him (Luke 15:20). It is important to note that, considering the reception from his father, the son may have forgone making his apology, but he doesn’t; he repeats the apology he had rehearsed previously, but his father merely addresses his slaves, requesting the best of robes for his son, rings for his fingers and sandals for his feet, as well as that the the fatted calf be slaughtered for a feast, “for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!” (Luke 15:22-24).

But the story does not end there; we see that the older son, who has been faithful to his father, refuses to enter when he learns from a slave that his brother has returned and has been welcomed back with the slaughtering of the fatted calf. When his father hears that his son will not go into the celebration, he goes outside to plead with him, and again he reiterates that it was necessary to “celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found” (Luke 15:32).

As I mentioned earlier, this parable immediately follows the parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin. In the first of these, the shepherd leaves his ninety-nine sheep in the wilderness in order to “go after the one that is lost until he finds it,” and when he returns home he asks his friends and neighbors to rejoice with him (Luke 15:4). “Just so,” says the Lord, “there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who need no repentance” (Luke 15:10). In the same vein, in the parable of the lost coin, Our Lord speaks of a woman who has lost one of her ten silver coins and “light[s] a lamp, sweep[s] the house, and search[es] carefully until she finds it,” then once again calling together her friends and neighbors and inviting them to rejoice with her, for she has found the coin that she had lost (Luke 15:8). Likewise, Our Lord reiterates, “there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents” (Luke 15:10).

This ought to be a reminder to all of us, but especially to those who are parents, that we must always be motivated by mercy in our dealings with our children; we must be willing to accept their apologies without any sort of strings attached, and to rejoice in and with them when they turn to God and to us asking for forgiveness. We do not see the emotional strife that the father underwent after his son left. Surely, he was wounded, and deeply, by his son’s choices; but when the prodigal returns, there is no mention of those wounds—there is only a recognition that in returning, his son has turned away from his sin. We must, as far as possible and with the grace of God, rejoice with our children when they choose what is good, and we must pray for them to return into the fold when they do not choose what is good. 

And in any case, we ought to remember this Father’s Day that the love of God the Father for each and every one of us outstrips the human love of even the best of fathers; if you are in need of forgiveness, return to Him, and He will run to you with His arms wide open.