Parable of the prodigal son: God is never tired of waiting
The Gospel of this fourth Sunday of Lent (Luke 15:1-3,11-32) presents one of the best-known parables and also one of the most difficult to understand: the parable of the prodigal son. It is a story about the relationship of a father with his two sons that speaks to the deepest part of our hearts.
Jesus tells how a son, the younger, asks his father for his share of the inheritance and goes far away. He lives without restraint, without thinking of the future, loses everything, and when he hits rock bottom, he decides to return. He doesn’t come back out of deep repentance, but because he has truly been left with nothing and is hungry. He says to himself: “I will get up, go to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired workers.”
On his way back home, while he is still far away, his father sees him. Then he runs out, hugs him, kisses him, and restores him as a son. He doesn’t ask for explanations, doesn’t wait for him to kneel and beg. He just wants him back home.
Upon seeing the scene, the older brother gets angry. He has always been obedient, responsible, hardworking… He doesn’t understand why a great feast is held for the one who left without looking back. When he asks for an explanation, the father answers: “Son, you are always with me and all that is mine is yours. But it was necessary to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come back to life; he was lost and has been found.”
We are not what we did; we can always begin again
At Sisters Adorers, we often hear stories of women who identify with the younger son. For different reasons, they went far away, fell, and broke down. Most of the time not even by their own choice, but due to imposed circumstances, ignorance, need, fear, or lack of other options.
One of them, whom we will call Esther, expressed it perfectly in one sentence: “I didn’t know I could begin again. I thought I no longer had the right to be loved.”
Esther did not rebuild her life with speeches or justifications. She came back broken, but was received with respect, with support, with patience and affection. There began a new journey, which she continues to this day. She is receiving professional training, works with hope, and has recovered something essential: the confidence that she is valuable.
This parable reminds us that God’s heart does not follow the logic of punishment, but of liberating love; that the embrace comes before judgment, and that we must embody that same spirit here in the world.
Where are you in this parable of the prodigal son?
Do you feel closer to the younger son, who has drifted away and doesn’t know if he can return?
Or maybe to the older son, who obeys but has grown cold inside and finds it hard to celebrate forgiveness? Is it difficult for you to accept that God is more merciful and welcoming than just?
This fourth Sunday of Lent is an opportunity to return to the Lord, without fear and without conditions. God comes to meet us even when we are still far away; He always waits for us. His embrace comes first – it is what brings life back.
How to live this Sunday of return home
Here are three simple keys for this day:
- Recognize what takes you away. What part of you needs to return? What have you lost along the way – joy, trust, forgiveness, faith?
- Dare to return without fear. You don’t need to have everything figured out; just take one step. Pray, talk to someone who will listen, seek reconciliation. God is waiting for you.
- Celebrate the good, even in others. If it’s hard for you to forgive or rejoice in someone else’s return, ask to have a heart more like the father’s in the parable: one that can throw a party for life that returns.
We all need to return at some point
The parable of the prodigal son is not just a beautiful story. It is a mirror where we can see ourselves reflected. Sooner or later, we all stray from what is essential, we all need to return, and we all need a welcoming embrace.
At Sisters Adorers, we see every day how that embrace takes form: in listening without judgment, in unconditional welcome, in healing companionship. That’s why this Gospel is not theory. It is life, it is real.
May this fourth Sunday of Lent draw us closer to the Father who always waits, to the home that never closes its doors, to the love that restores dignity.
Keep walking with us during this Lenten season. Next week, we continue forward.
Read last Sunday’s reflection here.