Ways to Be Lost

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The Story of Two Prodigals

We usually think of the prodigal as the one who leaves. But what if staying home is its own kind of lost?

Well folks, it was only a matter of time. Sooner or later, we had to explore this story. Not just because it is one of my favorite parables Jesus tells in Luke’s Gospel, but also because it serves as such a poignant reminder of how truly lost any one of us can be, and how deeply we all need the grace and love of God the Father to pursue us.

So regardless of your background or faith experience, I believe that each one of us can identify with the characters in this story.

Pick up any Bible and you’ll likely find the story titled, The Parable of the Prodigal Son. However, I believe The Parable of the Prodigal Sons is a more accurate descriptor because both sons are prodigals, both sons are lost, just in vastly different ways. If we sit with the story long enough, we begin to recognize that there is more than one way to be lost. More than one way get it wrong when searching for fulfillment, purpose, identity, and redemption.

What actually happened…

Let’s revisit the story. In Luke 15, Jesus tells of a man who has two sons. This man also happens to have wealth—land, livestock, crops, servants—you get it. He’s rich.

The younger of his two sons does not want to wait for his father to pass away before receiving his share of the inheritance, so he asks for it early. This was not like getting an advance on your pay check. In that culture, he was essentially wishing his father dead. Yet to everyone’s shock, the father agrees.

Within a couple of days, the younger son cashes out, packs up, and heads to a far-off country. The Bible tells us he squandered his inheritance in “wild and reckless living.” Let your imagination go where it will—gambling, partying, sleeping around, addiction. The details don’t matter. The point is, he quickly wasted all of it.

And it didn’t take long for him to hit rock bottom. The money was gone, and with it, the so-called friends who had enjoyed his spending spree. He finds himself in a pigsty, literally, working a job feeding animals that his own people considered unclean. He’s starving, humiliated, and alone.

It’s there, in the stench of the pigpen, that he comes to his senses and has a breakthrough. The younger son realizes that even his father’s servants live better than this. So he makes a plan: he’ll go home. But not as a son. He doesn’t believe he deserves that anymore. He decides to ask for a job. He starts rehearsing his apology speech on the way back: “Father, I’ve sinned against heaven and against you. I’m no longer worthy to be called your son. Just hire me as a servant.”

And then comes my favorite part of the whole story.

While He Was Still a Long Way Off

The Bible says it this way:

“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him.” (Luke 15:20)

Can you see it? The father was looking for him. The father saw him first. The father didn’t wait with folded arms and a stern lecture. He ran. In that culture, wealthy men didn’t run. It was beneath their dignity. But this father didn’t care. He had been on the look out, straining his eyes, searching for his son, determined to be the first to welcome him home in the unlikely chance that he would actually return.

The son starts into his apology speech, but the father won’t even let him finish. He interrupts the prodigal, calling to his servants:

“Bring the best robe! Put a ring on his finger, sandals on his feet. Kill the fattened calf. Let’s celebrate! For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!”

The party begins. Music bumping, party raging. The son is home, forgiven, restored.

It would be such a beautiful ending if the story stopped there. But Jesus keeps going—because real life is a little more complicated.

The Older Brother: A Picture of Perfection? 

Meanwhile, the older brother is out in the field, doing what he does best: working. Obedient, dutiful, steady. When he hears music and laughter drifting from the house, he’s confused. He asks a servant what’s going on.

The answer:

“Your brother is home. Your father has killed the fattened calf to celebrate his return. He’s now safe and sound.”

Luke 15:27

Instead of joy, anger burns in him. He refuses to go inside.

Once again, the father does something out of character for his station, but consistent with the type of father he has shown us to be: Just as he went out to meet the younger son, he now goes out to plead with the older.

The Bible says he “entreated” him. That word means he urged, begged, implored his son. Think about that. The head of the estate, the man of power and authority, lowering himself to plead with his own son to join the celebration.

But the older son had had enough. He explodes: “Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you. I never disobeyed your commands. And yet you never gave me so much as a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours comes home—the one who wasted your money on prostitutes—you kill the fattened calf for him!” (Luke 15:29-30)

Did you catch that? “This son of yours.” The older brother cannot even bring himself to call him my brother. Resentment festers. The bitterness runs deep.

In contrast, the father responds with tenderness:

“Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But it was fitting to celebrate, for this, your brother, was dead and is alive. He was lost and is found.”

Luke 15:31-32

Notice the correction. The older son said, “this son of yours.” The father replies, “this, your brother.” The father’s heart moves towards restoring the relationship that the older brother is trying to sever.

And then… that’s it. That’s how the story ends. We don’t know what the older brother did. Did he swallow his pride and join the party? Or did he stay outside, letting bitterness grow even deeper roots?

Jesus leaves it open-ended on purpose. Because the real question is: what would we do?

Two Ways to Be Lost

So what’s really going on here? Sibling rivalry? Favoritism? Addiction? It’s bigger than that. This parable isn’t just about one lost son. It’s about two.

The younger son is the obvious sinner. His rebellion is public, his choices leave a mess, the consequences are humiliating to the upstanding family. He’s the one who is visibly lost so it’s easy for us to shake our heads at him, and say: “Yes, of course he needs the father’s grace and forgiveness. Oh if only he would repent!”

But the older son? We can easily dismiss his behaviour as childish and immature, concluding that he must just be jealous of the attention and the party thrown for his brother, and that’s that.

Unfortunately, it’s not just that. It’s much more than that. The sin of the older son is quieter. Hidden. Respectable. It’s the sin of self-righteousness. The sin of moralism. The older brother believes his good behavior should earn his father’s favor. So when grace is poured out on someone who doesn’t deserve it, he just can’t understand it and responses with anger and resentment.

Jesus is cutting deep here. He’s confronting those of us who think our morality, our religious record, or our good choices somehow earn God’s love and favor. 

The older son never left home, never crossed a boundary, and checked off every item on his to-do list, all while behaving like the dutiful son he thought he had to be.

He lived his life the way many of us do: assuming that our good behavior will earn God‘s favor and then resenting God for showing grace to those who we condemn as undeserving, on those who don’t even care to try.

The truth is, both sons were lost. Both needed grace. Both needed forgiveness.

Because there are two ways of being lost:

• Overt rebellion.

• Covert self-righteousness.

And both lead us away from the heart of the Father.

Finding Ourselves in the Story

Many church goers would not admit to this with their words, but they live in such a way that suggests they believe it in their hearts. We all know in our heads that salvation is not earned through our good works or moral behavior. We all know in our heads that God‘s grace and love are his freely given gifts to us. This means that God doesn’t wait for our repentance in order to respond with grace and love. God offers us grace and love before we do a thing to earn them. In fact, grace is what enables us to repent in the first place. His love is what makes us turn to him at all. 

I don’t want to make blanket statements with lazy stereotypes, so please understand that I’m aware of how nuance this is. Consider this my disclaimer for what I’m about to share next.

A while ago, I was speaking at a women’s event. During the small group time, I joined some older ladies, many of them grandmothers who desperately wanted to see their kids and grandkids attend church. With genuine love and concern, they asked me: “How do we get our kids and grandkids to come back to church?!”

And I’ll tell you what I told them as graciously as I could muster. Loved ones coming back to church does little more than check off a religious to-do list because I doubt that God is as concerned about their church attendance as much as he longs to walk with them in every area of their lives.

Church attendance, like other indicators of morality in our culture, is not what Jesus died for. And it’s not what his followers are meant to live for. We are invited into a bigger story. Because coming back to church doesn’t mean coming back to God.

And that’s what makes this story so powerful.

The father doesn’t just wait for his sons to find their way back. He goes out to them. He runs to the younger son. He pleads with the older son.

He doesn’t only offers forgiveness, but proactively seeks out the lost for restoration. Whether the lost are the overtly rebellious or the quietly self-righteous.

Those who are morally bankrupt like the younger son, or those who are rich in self-righteousness, like the older son.

And here’s the best part: He still does that today.

Which Son Are You?

Some of us are more like the younger son. We’ve wasted time, money, and opportunities. We’ve drifted far from God, chasing things that left us empty.

Some of us are more like the older son. We’ve stayed home, followed the rules, done all the right things. And yet our hearts are cold, resentful, judgmental.

Either way, we’re lost. And either way, we are met by the same Father, with the same invitation: Come in. Join the celebration. Come home.

If you see yourself in the younger son—ashamed, broken, feeling unworthy of being called God’s child, hear this: the Father runs to you. He doesn’t demand you clean yourself up first. He wraps you in his embrace.

If you see yourself in the older son—dutiful, moral, hardworking, but bitter when grace is poured out on those who “don’t deserve it”, hear this: the Father comes out to meet you too. He reminds you: “All that I have is yours. But don’t let your self-righteousness keep you from the joy of my grace.”

Friend, there are two ways of being lost. And the Father always seeks the lost.

The only question is: how will you respond when he finds you?

What’s in the Ears

This is the part where I share a song or podcast I’m currently into. What I’m sharing today is a new one to me. It’s a podcast show titled Family Discipleship Podcast. I’m only just getting into it but so far I’m finding the content to be a great resource for raising a faith-focused family while keeping it real about the challenges and limitations parents face in our cultural moment. Let me know if you check them out!

If this stirred something in you, share this post with a friend or drop a comment below. I’d love to hear what small step you’re taking towards the flourishing life today! And don’t forget to subscribe so you don’t miss a thing.

Podcast available on Apple Podcast, Spotify, or your favourite streaming platform!