Pause for just a moment and remember what is (hopefully) a familiar picture. See the son tell the father that he is done with his father and his father’s provincial way of life. Feel the grief with the father as the son, carrying so much of what the father gave him, watches the son that he loves walk down a new path; one that carries the son farther away than the son intends or the father wants.
The son wanted to party, and spent all the father gave him to indulge his base desires. The charm wore off when the money ran out, and the hunger in his stomach (and heart) drove him to his senses. He hoped home was waiting and started walking, thinking his partying days were over.
All that seemed to be ahead of him was a dutiful life to the man who once called him a son. But being hired hand in his father's home was more appealing to him than "partying" with the pigs.
But, the son's small hopes only showed he never understood his father. Maybe his self-absorbed lack of understanding was what fueled his desire to leave in the first place.
See again the Father. Always hoping. Always waiting. Always looking down the path that had once carried his son into the often unrecognized slavery of sin. Feel his surprise (and his joy!) when he saw the distinctive walk of his son (though now slower and more labored) in the man who walked towards the house. Imagine the spring of compassion the father felt that not only drove him to run to his boy, but embrace his boy, and forgive his boy and (can you believe it?!) lavishly give even more of himself and his life to his boy!
Like every other description of the kingdom of God in Luke 15, this story ends is a celebration. A party full of a joy that makes the parties the son spent himself on look tame. The father, spending himself joyfully for his wayward son, let the fountain of his joy and compassion overflow in an overwhelming expression of love: a party to end all parties.
Jesus says so much as he shares that story, but one thing I do not want to miss is the joy of the Father in heaven. The King has too much joy over people “coming home.” One taste of that celebration and every other party seems like a pig trough.
