The good son—do you even know who I am talking about? Luke 15:11-32 is a parable Jesus taught about a lost, wayward son who finds redemption through a good father. The story is often taught in Sunday school and is the subject of many sermons and commentaries. The focus of most of these teachings is on how the prodigal son squandered his inheritance, was redeemed by a loving father, and was restored to his family. It exemplifies the act of Christ redeeming us back into His family after we have turned our backs on Him.
This is a great story in itself. But, like many of Jesus’ teachings, this one carries a warning.
The Good Son
The part of one verse that caught my attention is in verse 28: “So his father went out and pleaded with him.” This statement describes the good son, the rule follower, who is filled with righteous indignation over the lost son’s treatment. We sometimes hear or read a commentary about this son. We hear how he, like Jonah, followed all the rules, did what was right, believed he had earned God’s blessing, and did not want to see the unworthy rewarded above himself.
Jonah ran from God to try to stop God’s salvation plan for the Ninevites. The good son simply refused to join the celebration. The good son, like Jonah, felt there was an admission price tied to redemption.
But the father went out to him and pleaded with him.
Today’s Church
Galatians 2:21, “I do not nullify the grace of God, for if righteousness comes through the Law, then Christ died needlessly.”
I am a visual learner. If I can see something with my eyes or imagine it in my mind, I will remember it longer. So, when I read verse 28, the image that appeared in my mind was my church—actually, any church. Jesus was at the pulpit, and the wayward sons were in the congregation. They are like the thief on the cross or the Ninevites who desperately wanted grace, but Christ had to go out into the parking lot to gather all of the good sons into the church. These are the parishioners who regularly attend church, tithe, participate in community groups and Bible studies, and pray. They are working toward crowns and jewels as a reward for their service.
The people standing outside are earning their redemption by following all the rules. They see themselves as justified because they are trying. Biblically, they understand they can’t balance the scales, but at least they are making an effort. The problem is that they love God’s stuff—redemption and grace—without truly loving God.
Romans 9:30-32, “What then shall we say? That the Gentiles who did not strive for righteousness have achieved it, that is, righteousness based on faith, but that Israel, who did strive for righteousness based on the Law, did not succeed in attaining it? Why did this happen? Because they did not pursue it by faith but on the basis of works. They tripped over the stone that causes one to stumble,”
The good son is the Pharisees of biblical times. But he is also the overly righteous of our day.
The Idea of Heaven
“The critical question for our generation—and for every generation— is this: If you could have heaven, with no sickness, and with all the friends you ever had on earth, and all the food you ever liked, and all the leisure activities you ever enjoyed, and all the natural beauties you ever saw, all the physical pleasures you ever tasted, and no human conflict or any natural disasters, could you be satisfied with heaven, if Christ were not there? ” ― John Piper, God Is the Gospel: Meditations on God’s Love as the Gift of Himself
They love the idea of heaven, the idea of not being sick, no pain, no sin, seeing loved ones again in an ideal environment, rather than spending eternity at the feet of Christ.
There is a song “What a God” that has lyrics that say:
If the highest place I reached is at your feet. Then I’ve done it all.
If the best thing that I’ve seen is your glory. Then I’ve seen it all,
If one word is the only thing you speak. Then I’ve heard it all,
If I feel your heart and never see your hand. I still have it all,
This is the definition of heaven. It’s not about inheriting streets of gold and rooms in a mansion: it’s not the result of a transactional relationship. It’s about receiving what we don’t deserve and basking in the glory of that gift.
At judgment, I don’t want to be caught standing in the parking lot. Jesus will come out and call me home, but it’s not the homecoming I want. I want to remember to love Christ for who He is, not what He offers. I want to be the person He made me to be, not as repayment, but out of genuine awe of who He is and what He has done for me.
Titus 2:11, “For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people.”

At some point, we all need a miracle. That isn’t a sign of weakness; it’s part of being human. Sometimes life pushes us so hard that we finally see what has always been true: we were never meant to carry everything alone.
My daughter, an incredible human being who has had an indelible impact on thousands, mentioned the other day that time is a thief. She was talking about my granddaughter’s upcoming high school graduation. She was reflecting on how quickly time had passed from her birth to her graduation. With that brief statement, ‘time is a thief,’ she captured something essential about the human condition.
And why is Christ Hard to Believe In?
While reading recently, I encountered a term that initially sounded academic, almost theoretical: violent innocence. At first, I thought it described others—two people or organizations engaged in passive conflict, each claiming innocence while quietly undermining one another. It seemed like a more refined version of passive-aggressive behavior. But as I reflected on it further, it became more unsettling. Not because it described others so accurately, but because it revealed something inside me.
Christmas for the lonely is the worst of all holidays. It is the peak of all the missed chances and forgotten moments that haunt their existence. It seems to amplify their loneliness.
This is a sobering truth about your existence: a few decades after you pass away, no one will remember what you did. Sure, close family members might remember your name, but the core of your achievements will fade over time.
When life turns up the heat and hardship defines our existence, do we see it as punishment or an opportunity to grow?
Have you ever felt like your plans were crushed, only to realize they weren’t broken but simply redirected for God’s purpose? Sometimes, God uses minor setbacks to teach us. This is a story of one such experience. Traveling internationally is always challenging. It’s not just about different languages and cultures; it’s also about everyday things like water and electricity. I was telling a friend the other day that I’ve never felt more entitled than when I stepped outside my environment into someone else’s.
The Trap of a Single Story