Article 13 of 14 | Honest Questions
By Dr. Timothy Mann
Yes, the door is still open. The parable of the prodigal son shows a father who saw his son from far away and ran to meet him before he spoke a single word of apology. Whatever distance anyone has put between themselves and God, He has been watching the road.
This installment of the Honest Questions series differs from the others. The previous entries have been primarily intellectual: addressing objections, examining evidence, engaging arguments. This one is personal. It is not really a question about whether Christianity is true. It asks whether a person can return to something they once believed in and walked away from.
The question is: I used to believe. Can I come back?
Maybe the church was home once. The songs, the Bible stories, the prayers were familiar. At some point, in college, in early adulthood, through a painful experience, through intellectual questions that never got answered, through watching religious people behave badly, the walking away began. Belief stopped. Or caring stopped. Or both.
And now something has stirred. Maybe it was a conversation. Maybe it was a hard season that brought a person face-to-face with their own mortality. Maybe it was holding a child, or standing at a graveside, or lying awake at three in the morning with a question that no other framework could answer. And the question surfaces: is the door still open? After everything that has been done, thought, said, and become, can a person come back?
The answer here is the most important story Jesus ever told. The anchor text is Luke 15:20-24, the climax of the parable of the prodigal son.
“And he arose and came to his father. But when he was still a great way off, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him. And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you, and I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me like one of your hired servants.’ But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring out the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand and sandals on his feet. And bring the fatted calf here and kill it, and let us eat and be merry; for this my son was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ And they began to be merry.” (Luke 15:20-24, NKJV)
The father saw him when he was still a great way off. He ran. Here is the first half of why the door is not just open. It is wide open.
The Father Was Watching the Road
The first thing to see in this parable is something easy to miss when the focus stays on the son. Look at the father.
The son had taken his inheritance, essentially wishing his father dead and demanding what would have been his upon death, and left. He had gone to a far country and wasted everything. He had ended up feeding pigs, which for a Jewish listener would have been the lowest possible degradation. He had hit absolute bottom.
And then he came to his senses. He decided to go home. Not because he thought he deserved to be received as a son; he had already rehearsed his speech, planning to ask to be taken on as a hired servant. He didn't come home expecting restoration. He was coming home hoping for survival.
But look at the father. “When he was still a great way off, his father saw him.” The father saw him while he was still far off. In the ancient Near East, a dignified patriarch did not run. Running was undignified, reserved for servants and children. But this father ran. He gathered his robes and ran to his son.
Jesus is telling something about God. He is not a God who sits in heaven waiting to see if a person will clean themselves up enough to approach Him. He is a God who watches the road. Who sees a person while they are still a long way off. Who runs to meet them before they have finished their speech of apology. Who is more eager for their return than they are.
Whatever distance anyone has put between themselves and God, however long they have been gone, however far they have wandered, He has been watching the road. That is who He is. That is the picture Jesus gives of the Father's heart. Not reluctant forgiveness. Running. Embracing. Kissing. Restoration before the apology is even finished.
The Door Is Open Because of What the Father Is. Not What the Son Deserved.
Notice what the restoration in this parable is based on. It is not based on what the son deserved. It is not even based on the quality of his repentance. It is based entirely on the character of the father.
The son had prepared a speech. He was going to say: I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me like one of your hired servants. And that speech was true. He was not worthy. He had forfeited every claim to sonship by what he had done. He knew it. He was not coming back presuming on grace. He was coming back hoping for mercy.
But the father never let him finish the speech. He interrupted it with restoration. The best robe. A ring. Sandals. The fatted calf. These are not the gifts of a father receiving a servant. These are the gifts of a father receiving a son. The robe covers the rags. The ring restores the authority. The sandals distinguish him from the slaves, who went barefoot. The father is not giving the son what the son asked for, a place among the servants. The father is giving the son back his identity as a son.
This is the gospel. Coming back to God does not rest on worthiness. It rests on His character. His love does not fluctuate based on anyone's track record. His welcome is not proportional to their repentance. He is waiting for the turn, the moment a person arises and begins the journey home, and He runs to meet it with everything He has.
The door is open not because anyone deserves to come back. The door is open because the father is the kind of father who runs. And the God of the universe is that kind of Father.
APPLICATION & REFLECTION
The father's welcome was never earned; it was extended before the son finished his speech. If you have been rehearsing a speech to justify why you can't come back, consider that it may not be necessary. Who do you know who is still standing at a distance, unsure the door is open to them? What would it look like to remind them of the father who runs?
Next time: what does someone actually bring back with them, and does the far country disqualify anyone? Part two, the final article in this series, closes with that answer.
Subscribe to our email Here and get more from Dr. Mann delivered to your inbox, plus his free resource: 3 Ways to Know We Can Trust the Bible as God's Authoritative Word.
If you missed the beginning of our series “Honest Questions” find the article links below:
Article 1: If God Is Good, Why Is There So Much Suffering? (Part 1)
Article 2: If God Is Good, Why Is There So Much Suffering? (Part 2)
Article 3: Has Science Disproved the Bible? (Part 1)
Article 4: Has Science Disproved the Bible? (Part 2)
Article 5: How Can a Loving God Send Anyone to Hell? (Part 1)
Article 6: How Can a Loving God Send Anyone to Hell? (Part 2)
Article 7: Isn't the Bible Just Written by Men? (Pt 1)
Article 8: Isn't the Bible Just Written by Men? (Pt 2)
Article 9: Why Would God Care About Me? (Pt 1)
Article 10: Why Would God Care About Me? (Pt 2)
Article 11: Can I Trust a God I Cannot See? (Pt 1)
Article 12: Can I Trust a God I Cannot See? (Pt 2)
FAQ
Q: Can someone who has walked away from faith come back to God?
A: Yes. The parable of the prodigal son shows a father who was watching the road and ran to meet his son before he could finish his apology. The invitation to return does not depend on how long someone has been gone.
Q: Does God require proof of repentance before welcoming someone back?
A: No. In Luke 15, the father interrupts his son's rehearsed apology with immediate restoration: a robe, a ring, sandals. The welcome is based on the father's character, not the quality or completeness of the son's repentance.
Q: What does the prodigal son parable teach about God's character?
A: It shows a God who watches for a person's return, runs to meet them while they are still far off, and restores their identity rather than merely tolerating their presence. The initiative and the welcome both come from the father.