1. The Core of the Gospel in the Parable of the Prodigal Son
Luke 15 is widely regarded as the chapter that most clearly reveals the essence of the gospel throughout the entire Gospel narrative. Following the “Parable of the Lost Sheep” and the “Parable of the Lost Coin,” the “Parable of the Prodigal Son” presents a long and rich story that has inspired countless theologians and preachers throughout church history. Pastor David Jang also places great importance on Luke 15, emphasizing the gospel essence and the heart of God that flow through this chapter. Significantly, Jesus spoke this parable in the context of justifying why He welcomed sinners and ate with them. When the Pharisees and scribes progressed from questioning, “Why does this man welcome sinners and eat with them?” to outright grumbling, Jesus presented three parables in succession to reveal the ‘heart of God’ and ‘true intention of the gospel’ that they were missing.
The Pharisees and scribes were highly religious elites. They saw themselves as a ‘separate’ people, faithfully observing the provisions of the Law in their daily lives, hand-copying and teaching the Scriptures, and so they appeared to be the most devout and righteous group. Yet they found Jesus to be perplexing because He had no qualms about “welcoming sinners, sharing table fellowship with them,” and actually going among them to eat. This was more than enough to unsettle the Pharisees. In their logic, since they had lived piously and valued the teaching of the Word, they believed it was only right to avoid contact with ‘sinners.’ However, Jesus exhibited precisely the opposite attitude—actively embracing sinners, entering their midst, and eating with them. The Pharisees and scribes did not merely criticize Him; they harbored a deeper emotion of ‘resentment.’ Through their lens, it likely appeared as “blasphemous conduct” or an action that “violated ceremonial purity.”
Yet Jesus responded to their grumbling by telling three parables in succession. The conclusion of all three is that “God seeks out every lost one and rejoices over each one who returns.” The third of these is the “Parable of the Prodigal Son.” We typically use this parable to reflect on “the sinner’s repentance and the Father’s unconditional forgiveness.” Like Henri Nouwen’s reflections in The Return of the Prodigal Son on Rembrandt’s painting of the same name, this parable evokes profound emotion. The son’s worn-out shoes, his posture of kneeling, the father’s patient waiting for the son to return, and the elder brother’s jealous expression dramatically depict the human inner condition.
Above all, this parable encapsulates in a single story the very heart of the gospel. Beginning in Luke 15:11, the younger son demands of his father, “Give me the share of the property that belongs to me.” He travels to a distant country and squanders the property in “reckless living,” eventually sinking into utter destitution both materially and spiritually. Starving, he longs to fill his stomach with the pods the pigs ate, but no one gives him anything. In this hopelessness, he realizes, “How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death.” Confessing, “I have sinned against heaven and against you, Father,” he resolves to return home.
The most dramatic moment occurs when the father, while his son was still a long way off, is “filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him, and kissed him.” Immediately he orders, “Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his hand and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let us have a feast and celebrate!” Scripture places no ‘conditions’ on this act by the father. It doesn’t detail how the son squandered the money or what sins he may have committed in the process; it only shows that the father rejoices and welcomes him simply because “he came home.” Meanwhile, the elder brother resents this. He demands, “Why are you so generous toward my brother?” and laments, “All these years I’ve slaved for you and never disobeyed your orders, yet you never gave me even a young goat for a feast with my friends.” The father replies, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours” (Luke 15:31). Finally, speaking of the younger brother, the father declares, “This brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found, so we had to celebrate and be glad.”
In explaining this parable, Pastor David Jang stresses the need to reflect from multiple angles on the “spiritual state of humanity,” as portrayed by these two sons. The younger son’s motive for leaving home stems from a “misunderstanding of possession.” He claims “the share of property that belongs to me,” seeing it only as “mine.” Surprisingly, the father grants his request, leading to the son’s self-chosen downfall. Yet the father does not become angry or impose any judgment on him. Instead, he runs to embrace his son the moment he appears in the distance, restoring every good thing to him.
This illustrates the common misunderstanding often made by Pharisees, scribes, or those in the church who have been believers for a long time. Namely, the idea that “I have always been with the Father and have dutifully kept His commands, so I naturally deserve blessing,” paired with the notion that “those sinful, reckless ones ought not to receive the Father’s love.” However, the truth revealed by Jesus through this parable is that the Father “joyfully welcomes anyone who returns,” and that “even those who have long remained in the Father’s house may forfeit true joy if they do not understand the Father’s heart.”
Here the essence of the ‘gospel’ emerges. The gospel is “good news of salvation for sinners,” but to those who have built their own sense of righteousness within religious frameworks, it can sometimes sound unfamiliar or even unsettling. This is because the gospel resonates with the Lord’s statement that “He did not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” Jesus declares, “There is more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.” In pointing out this paradox of the gospel, Pastor David Jang encourages church communities to remember that believers might at times find themselves in the prodigal’s predicament, or in the elder brother’s position. We should not remain complacent, thinking “I’m safely inside the church,” but must be alert to our potential to resemble the ‘elder brother’ who fails to grasp the Father’s heart. Likewise, when people outside the church, exhausted from their wandering, attempt to return, the church must continuously ask itself whether it is prepared to receive them with “unconditional hospitality” and “compassion.”
Meanwhile, the Parable of the Prodigal Son has its background in Jeremiah 31. In Jeremiah 31, Ephraim laments from afar, “Restore me and I will return, for you are the Lord my God.” God responds, “Is Ephraim my dear son? Is he my darling child? As often as I speak against him, I do remember him still. Therefore my heart yearns for him; I will surely have mercy on him.” This directly corresponds to the Father’s attitude toward the prodigal in Luke 15. The same heart of God prophesied in Jeremiah 31—“God’s love, compassion for sinners, and joy in receiving the returning one”—appears consistently throughout the Old and New Testaments. This is the root and core of the gospel.
Yet the people of Jesus’ day, including those who claimed to be “God’s people”—the Pharisees and scribes—failed to grasp the essence of this love and joy. They were offended by the notion that the holy God would welcome and dine with sinners. Yet in truth, the gospel proclaims that God, far beyond human rules and preconceptions, waits like a Father for the sinner to come home. If we are to experience the gospel genuinely, we must likewise learn the “Father’s heart.” That heart is not only about running to embrace the prodigal who has wandered far away, but also about letting those already close by see that they cannot know true joy if they remain ignorant of the Father’s will.
When Pastor David Jang teaches “repentance and forgiveness,” he often quotes the Parable of the Prodigal Son. The younger son’s confession upon returning is, “I have sinned against heaven and against you.” What he realizes is that “originally, the Father and I were one, and I cannot truly live apart from the Father’s embrace.” As Jesus says in John 14:20, “On that day you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you.” Human beings, by design, cannot be separated from God. Yet we often choose a path away from God, mistaking our obsession with possessions or material desires for ‘freedom.’ The prodigal son exemplifies that very mistake. But genuine freedom is a gift enjoyed within “our oneness with the Father,” and genuine love flourishes within “free choice.”
Thus, the prodigal’s return home is more than a moral lesson; it is an event of “ontological homecoming,” demonstrating that humans cannot thrive apart from God. And in our repentance, the Father embraces us without condition—this is the revealed truth. Churches must remember this as the fundamental message of the gospel, the good news that stirs hearts spiritually. When we proclaim the gospel, essentially we proclaim the “Father’s overflowing love” and “unconditional welcome” illustrated in this parable.
Significantly, the elder brother’s attitude cannot be overlooked. He complains, “I never disobeyed any of your commands. Why haven’t you treated me so generously?” The Father replies, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.” Here the Father exposes the elder brother’s real issue: despite being physically in the Father’s house, his heart is distant. He believes he is entitled to a reward for the “merit” of staying close to the Father. He fails to recognize the simple fact that “I belong to the Father, the Father belongs to me, and everything is already shared.” This scenario parallels many long-time church members or those who think they have served sacrificially: “I have done so much. Why do people who have been worldly and careless get such warm welcomes? And why am I not celebrated in a special way?” Yet the Father responds, “Your perspective is the problem. Everything I have is already yours, and you and I are one.” There can be no greater blessing, but the elder brother, in his ignorance, traps himself in anger and isolation.
In this sense, the parable calls out the “sinfulness, spiritual ignorance, and failure to know the Father’s heart” present in both sons. Whether it’s the younger or the elder, both symbolize human limitations. But to them both, the Father extends His unconditional love and resources, throwing a banquet for them. There is greater joy in finding what was lost, greater gratitude in bringing back to life what was once dead. This is Jesus’ answer, the reasoning that justifies His practice of dining with sinners. Bound by the legalistic rule “we must not mix with sinners,” the Pharisees and scribes failed to see that “the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost,” which Jesus was actively demonstrating.
Hence, the Parable of the Prodigal Son shows on one hand God’s unconditional love for sinners or for those who wander, and on the other hand it warns those already within the church that if they lack “deeper understanding,” they cannot truly walk in the Father’s joy. Pastor David Jang teaches that church communities must embody both aspects: the church must be open-hearted toward any who return from the far country, and also encourage those already in the church to continually ask, “Do I truly know the Father’s heart?” “Am I living in joy as one with the Father?” If either side is neglected, the gospel becomes distorted and the essence of community is shaken.
It is also noteworthy that the prodigal son, upon confessing, “I have sinned against heaven and against you,” does not enumerate the details of his sin. The parable clarifies that the root cause of our separation from God is not material wealth in itself, but our attachment to it and our flawed perspective on possession. The younger son equates “freedom” with rejecting the Father and living for himself. He takes his share and abandons his home, wasting his life in reckless living. This is the nature of sin. Ultimately, sin is “the delusion that we can flourish without God,” or “the arrogance of demanding what’s really the Father’s as our own, then running away.” But sooner or later, the prodigal son hits rock bottom. Then he realizes, “I cannot enjoy true life apart from the Father’s house.” He repents, and the Father rushes out to forgive him. Pastor David Jang emphasizes that “repentance and forgiveness” must not remain mere religious abstractions; they must be real-life events where our relationship with the Father is restored. When that restoration happens, we move from “desperate hunger among pigs” to “celebrating with the fattened calf.”
Thus, the Parable of the Prodigal Son not only illuminates Jesus’ earthly ministry but also the overarching salvation plan of God from the Old Testament into the New, guiding believers in the church era. At times, we are like the prodigal, wandering in sin; at other times, we may be like the elder brother, arrogantly presuming our own righteousness and missing the Father’s heart. What matters is that we ultimately return to the Father, recognizing to whom we truly belong and who has been waiting for us all this time. This lies at the heart of Luke 15, and it is the message the church must continually meditate on and proclaim.
In the end, the story concludes with the Father saying, “Your brother was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found. So it is only right that we rejoice.” This conclusion contains no lofty doctrine or command; rather, it expresses the “natural response of hospitality.” When someone dear returns, we welcome them and rejoice with them, throwing a feast. Yet our human sinfulness and selfishness can impede even such a simple gesture. When jealousy arises, as it did in the elder brother, we must ask ourselves, “Have I forgotten that I was always with the Father?” For “if we are already in the Father’s house, everything is ours.” Realizing this fundamental truth can birth an indescribable freedom and joy within us.
Pastor David Jang asserts that the church must continually be renewed through this event. The church should be a community that welcomes “prodigals who come home” and offers further understanding to the “elder brothers who still misunderstand the Father.” Faithful religious practice does not automatically guarantee knowledge of God’s heart. True spiritual maturity manifests in the joy that comes from knowing “I and the Father are one, and we share all things.” When more believers strive to resemble the Father without demanding a price or imposing conditions, the church will truly manifest the kingdom of God on earth.
Henri Nouwen’s The Return of the Prodigal Son has remained beloved by so many readers for the same reason. Reflecting on Rembrandt’s The Return of the Prodigal Son, he carefully observes the son kneeling in tattered clothing, the father’s hand placed gently on the son’s back, and the elder brother watching from a distance with a jealous gaze. The painting itself powerfully visualizes the parable’s message, serving as a brilliant device to expose our psychological and spiritual condition. Eventually, we realize that all of us have at some point been the prodigal, and all of us have also been the elder brother; but ultimately, we are invited to become like the Father. This is the message embedded in the parable.
When Jesus told this parable, He did more than merely address the Pharisees’ resentment; He hoped they would once again discover “what God truly desires.” Though devout, diligent, and committed to copying and teaching Scripture, the Pharisees knew little about God’s compassion toward sinners. Though Jesus repeatedly stressed that heaven rejoices greatly when a sinner repents, the Pharisees found it foreign. They likely couldn’t shake the notion, “What about all our piety and righteousness? Is it fair to just welcome back a sinner?” Yet Jesus intended to reveal exactly this attribute: that God the Father overflows with unconditional love for sinners. Through the Parable of the Prodigal Son, He intensified that shock factor.
Believers who have practiced their faith for a long time can become entrenched in the “elder brother’s stance.” Over years of church attendance, tithes, service, and Scripture study, we might secretly wonder why newcomers receive such warmth while we do not. But the Father’s response never changes: “My child, you were always with Me, and all I have is already yours. But your brother was dead and is alive again, so we can’t help but celebrate!” If we do not take these words to heart, we become imprisoned in self-righteousness and miss out on the Father’s true gifts and joy.
Hence, churches should be overjoyed when prodigals return. At the same time, those who have served faithfully should also examine whether they genuinely delight in their daily communion with the Father or whether, deep down, they still misunderstand Him. This dual emphasis is Jesus’ intention and the path by which the gospel displays its power in everyday life. Saying “the threshold of the church should be low” is not merely about tolerance or ethics; rather, it is about imitating the heart of God the Father, who gladly welcomes anyone who comes home, without conditions.
In some sense, the Pharisees’ resentment mirrors our universal human desire for justice and fairness. We may even argue, “Accepting sinners so easily undermines justice.” Yet the parable’s conclusion surprisingly reveals that “this is precisely the nature of God’s justice.” God’s kingdom is not stingy in offering salvation to repentant sinners; it throws a feast. The Father rushes out to embrace the son and kiss him, even giving him a ring. From a strictly human viewpoint, this appears unfair or unjust, but from God’s perspective, it is perfect righteousness. God’s righteousness operates not by our merits but by grace.
Recalling Paul’s teaching in Romans, “There is none righteous, not even one,” we see that all humanity is darkened in some way before God, saved only by His grace and mercy. That grace is needed equally by the prodigal who squandered everything and by the elder brother who remained yet never really knew the Father’s heart. Thus we witness the miracle of “repentance and forgiveness.” Everyone needs to come home, and everyone needs to re-discover the Father’s heart. And that process is inseparable from “the Father’s delight in preparing the fattened calf” for us.
This parable offers two principal lessons. First, sinners need to “return,” and God reacts immediately to the smallest step with unconditional welcome. Second, those already in the church must not complacently assume, “I’m safe since I’m at home,” but instead ask, “Do I truly know the Father’s heart?” “Do I rejoice that all things are already mine?” Missing either lesson means missing out on the full joy of the gospel.
Pastor David Jang often applies this message to the reality of the Korean church. Many church conflicts stem from people’s attachment to “what’s mine,” which parallels the younger son’s desire to grab “his share” of the father’s estate. Modern-day churches have faced splits and divisions when certain members demand “their portion.” The Father’s words, “All that is mine is yours,” highlight that everything belongs to and is shared by God’s family. When believers fail to recognize this truth, some end up wasting resources (like the younger son) while others become embittered (like the elder brother). Therefore, the Parable of the Prodigal Son serves as a remedy for recovering the Father’s heart and for learning to value grace over personal possessions.
Whenever ownership issues arise, Pastor David Jang urges churches to ask themselves: “Did the Father not already give me everything? What am I clinging to right now?” A genuine disciple is someone who, as Paul says, though appearing to have nothing, actually possesses everything. If a church climate is defined by members constantly insisting on their rights and entitlements, it is reliving the same distorted view of possession shown by the prodigal and elder brother. Thus, we must remember from the parable that the Father’s heart leads us to let go of our claims and emphasize grace first.
In the broader context of Luke’s Gospel, immediately after the Parable of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15, Jesus shares the Parable of the Dishonest Manager in Luke 16, teaching us how to handle wealth. Originally, there was no chapter division in Scripture, so we should read Luke 15 and 16 as one continuous flow. While the Prodigal Son’s story reveals a “misinterpretation of possessions and its consequences,” the Dishonest Manager deals with “how to manage wealth wisely.” After emphasizing in the Prodigal Son that obsessive materialism leads to separation from the Father and spiritual ruin, Jesus then addresses how believers should live if they become wealthy—specifically urging a “stewardship mentality.” Pastor David Jang frequently connects these two parables, cautioning that the richer a church becomes, the more it must guard against greed and conflict. If a church truly maintains a stewardship mindset, it can expand God’s kingdom, but if not, it risks dividing over “my share.”
Thus, Luke 15 and 16 deliver the same core lesson in expanding directions. Through the Parable of the Prodigal Son, we see that “the Son of God gave up everything for us, and the Father likewise forgives us our failures, rejoicing when we return.” Through the Parable of the Dishonest Manager, we learn to ask, “How then shall we live when we are prosperous?” Jesus tells us to “use worldly wealth to gain friends,” so that we may secure an eternal dwelling. Tying back to the Prodigal Son, it reminds us, “Since all belongs to the Father and is graciously given to us, we should handle it with gratitude and generosity.”
The Parable of the Prodigal Son thus spans personal repentance and salvation, communal hospitality and sharing, and ultimately the restored relationship between God and humanity. Pastor David Jang describes both sons as representative of types found in every church—those drawn away by worldly temptations, returning in repentance, and those who remain but nurture resentment over a perceived lack of recognition. Yet the Father restores both, gathering all their brokenness into unity. This is “the kingdom of God” and the model the church should strive for.
The moment of the prodigal’s return is so moving because the Father’s “compassion” is so immense. By worldly standards, a son who has wasted his inheritance is merely a loser, someone the Father might treat coldly. But in the story, the Father runs to him, embraces him, and kisses him before he can utter his rehearsed speech. He summons his servants: “Bring the best robe! Put a ring on his hand, sandals on his feet! Kill the fattened calf!” The son hardly has time to say, “I have sinned against you. Make me like one of your hired servants,” before the celebration commences. This is the “outrageous joy” and “unbounded grace” of the gospel.
The Pharisees likely found this “indecipherable.” Even seasoned believers may occasionally feel uneasy about such lavish grace. “How can someone with no merit become the guest of honor so easily?” This is the paradox of the gospel. “There is more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.” This radical statement undermines all merit-based religiosity. Our task is simply to accept that grace and rejoice with it. Hence, the Father concludes, “We had to celebrate and be glad,” because “this brother was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”
Meanwhile, the Father still addresses the elder brother with tender affection, “My son,” and gently speaks the truth: “You are always with me, and everything I have is yours.” This reveals the Father’s diagnosis: “You have lived in abundance, so why do you feel poor and angry?” We must ask ourselves, “Am I actively enjoying the privilege of dwelling in the Father’s presence, or am I resentful, like the elder brother?” If we walk with the Father, every day can be a feast. But all too often, we eye the newcomers with suspicion rather than joy.
Ultimately, the Parable of the Prodigal Son simultaneously manifests the twin pillars of Christian life: “repentance” and “forgiveness.” At the pinnacle of the story is the younger son’s repentance meeting the Father’s unconditional forgiveness, resulting in a feast. Then the Father extends the same grace to the elder brother, reaffirming their intimate bond. All of this is in response to the Pharisees’ accusation in Luke 15:2, “Why does Jesus welcome sinners and eat with them?” Jesus’ final answer culminates in verse 32: “This brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found. So it is right to rejoice.”
Even in the church today, this parable gives foundational guidance for addressing myriad challenges. We must lower our church thresholds, welcoming those who repent and return, while reminding long-standing members never to forget how vast the Father’s grace is. We each play both roles at different times—sometimes the prodigal, at other times the elder brother. Yet ultimately, we are called to embody the Father’s heart. Pastor David Jang contends that this is the hallmark of a spiritually mature congregation—where the “prodigals” receive forgiveness and the “elder brothers” genuinely celebrate that fact. That is a foretaste of heaven.
When the lost or wandering return, or when those already in the church mistakenly pride themselves on their righteousness and reject others, the church must recall the “Father’s heart.” That heart is not some spectacular anomaly; it is the simple “compassion that prompts one to run from afar to embrace a returning child” and the “generous perspective that savors heavenly realities.” This is the core of the gospel Jesus displayed to the Pharisees and scribes. And by recognizing the different states of the two sons, and the Father’s encompassing love for both, we gain clarity on how we should treat each other in the church.
“Repentance and forgiveness” in the Parable of the Prodigal Son go beyond mere moral or religious duty. They signify “the restoration of an original relationship” and “renewed participation in God’s abundance.” Though the prodigal traveled to a distant land, he was never absent from the Father’s mind. The moment he turns back, grace and celebration begin. The elder brother, too, is understood by the Father, who knows the source of his anger and invites him to recognize, “All that I have is already yours.” If more of us grasped this, many of the church’s internal conflicts would be defused. Instead of competing over “my share,” we would remember that everything belongs to the Father, who shares all with us as one family. When we embrace that truth, the splendid feast seen in the parable can become a daily reality.
Luke 15, especially the Parable of the Prodigal Son, reminds us of the wondrous, even unsettling nature of the gospel. For the Pharisees, scribes, and those with closed hearts, this may appear “extreme.” But the gospel is more extravagant than even the parable suggests. As Jesus gave up His final garment at the cross—lots cast by the soldiers—God has withheld nothing from us. Thus, the Father’s words, “All I have is yours,” represent God’s voice to humanity. Those who truly accept and believe that no longer dwell in “pigpens” of misery but enter the Father’s house of abundance. And they cease trying to trade their own righteousness for the Father’s love, instead living freely as those who rejoice in the grace they have already been given. This is the power of the gospel and the hope for the church.
Quoting that passage, Pastor David Jang notes, “Though we often misunderstand the freedom God gave us and fall into sin, that same freedom allows us to return.” God does not desire robotic obedience but rather that we become people who choose freely to love Him. The prodigal misused that freedom, indulged in reckless living, and suffered. In the end, though, he employed his freedom again to choose to return, and the Father jubilantly welcomed him. The elder brother likewise has the choice: “Will I go in and celebrate my sibling’s return, or remain outside, wallowing in resentment?” Through it all, God invites us to use our freedom to choose “true love.” That love reaches its peak in “celebrating the one who was lost and is now found, who was dead and is now alive.”
In a practical sense, the parable teaches churches the following: “Welcome any returning prodigal without limit, and guide those already in church to discover the Father’s heart.” This was Jesus’ own ministry model, “eating with sinners” so that they might repent and be saved, while teaching those who disapproved, “This is the joy of the kingdom of God.” We must continue this example. An authentic church community will embrace both prodigals and elder brothers, placing the Father’s heart at its center.
The parable’s final words echo the voices of both Jesus and the Father: “This brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found, so it is right for us to rejoice.” Then the Father reminds the elder son that he has always had access to everything. This is the attitude the church must adopt: “Rejoice that the lost has returned; those already in the house should remember they were always in a position to rejoice.” May both be reconciled in the Father’s feast. Luke 15—especially the Parable of the Prodigal Son—teaches how a church can showcase the kingdom’s paradoxical hospitality and joy amid a world rife with conflict and division. This, Pastor David Jang insists, is the heart of the gospel and the “face of God” the church should ever behold.
2. Spirituality of Possession and Oneness as Seen in the Parable of the Prodigal Son
A pivotal conflict in the Parable of the Prodigal Son is sparked by the issue of “possession.” The younger son says, “Father, give me the share of property that belongs to me,” and the father grants it. Later, in Luke 15:31, the father tells the elder son, “All that is mine is yours.” Reflection on these statements reveals that the fundamental cause of humanity’s separation from God is a “misunderstanding of ownership” and a “distortion of material or freedom.” Ironically, the more we try to hold onto wealth or rights as “mine,” the more impoverished we become, sometimes drifting away from the community and becoming wanderers.
Pastor David Jang emphasizes that churches must be deeply aware of how they handle “possession.” Churches can accumulate finances, volunteers, real estate, and grow in prominence. But such prosperity can become the spark of conflict if not handled wisely. Pastor David Jang warns, “The richer a church becomes, the greater the risk of disputes over property, like the prodigal who misused his inheritance.” Hence, the church must cultivate a “stewardship mindset.” If members forget that “the Father’s possessions are our possessions—and likewise ours belong to the Father,” they may break away, demanding “their share” like the prodigal. To prevent this, church members must always remember, “We already dwell in the Father’s presence, and everything He has given is for us to share.”
As the parable shows, people sometimes depart from the Father thinking, “I want to live freely,” severing the relationship and using possessions however they wish. But that path leads to the pigsty of starvation, both literally and figuratively. Contemporary capitalist societies reveal the same paradox. The pursuit of material wealth and “my share” fractures society and leaves many in deep emptiness. Churches are not exempt. When we start labeling things “my church, my property, my domain,” we lose sight of the Father’s abundant joy. The Father’s house is predicated on “being together.”
The elder brother’s example underscores this. Though he never left home nor wasted his wealth, internally he is impoverished. When he complains, “You never even gave me a young goat,” the father responds, “All that is mine is yours. You have always been with me. Why don’t you realize that?” It signifies that between the father and children, there cannot be a strict division of “what’s yours” and “what’s mine.” Yet human distortion compels us to see the father’s estate as separate from ours, or to think, “I’ve done X amount of service, so I deserve Y reward.” Both sons’ misery stems from such thinking.
However, the order the father establishes is, “All that is mine is yours. You have always been with me, so you had access to it all.” This resonates with the Bible’s broader truth that “God has already given humanity everything.” From creation, we were granted dominion over the earth as His image-bearers, and through Christ we share in His life, wisdom, and glory. Yet by grasping at “our share,” we estranged ourselves, ironically forfeiting the fullness we could have enjoyed. Put another way, we could have had it all, but we ended up with “only this much,” precisely because we insisted on securing something as exclusively ours.
This principle applies to both the wider church and individual faith. “I’ve worked so faithfully. I tithe. I serve. I study the Bible. Therefore, God owes me blessings,” is the elder brother’s mindset. Conversely, “I don’t want God interfering. I’ll chart my own course,” is the prodigal’s mindset. But the parable reveals both are perilous, because neither fully depends on the Father. Ultimately, nothing can be truly enjoyed apart from God. Until we grasp the joy and freedom of “being with the Father” and realize the meaning of “All that is mine is yours,” we risk encountering the prodigal’s collapse or the elder brother’s angry discontent.
The parable’s solution is “becoming one with the Father again.” The younger son returns in repentance, and the elder son must resolve his misunderstanding of the Father’s heart. Both must “return to the Father.” This event of “repentance and forgiveness” transforms our perspective on possession. We shift from “I earned this” to “the Father has already given everything to me, which I share with my brothers and sisters.” A community shaped by such a change experiences both stronger internal bonds and a tangible witness of grace to the outside world.
Pastor David Jang points out that wealth inherited without its accompanying spirit inevitably leads to corruption. This principle holds not only in secular society but also in churches. A church might grow numerically and financially, only to succumb to the illusions of “we are neither the prodigal nor the elder brother.” Yet if vigilance is lost, the same tragedies that befell those two sons can repeat themselves, causing ruin. That is why Jesus repeatedly cautioned that “it is hard for the rich to enter the kingdom of heaven,” not because money is inherently evil but because our attitude toward it can provoke all manner of sins. Consequently, we must continually ask, “Am I truly living as a steward?” “The Father is with me and has given me everything—how am I using it?”
Likewise, a robust understanding of “repentance and forgiveness” reshapes how we view one another. When someone with a well-known history of sin tries to return, we should not condemn but say, “It’s wonderful that he has come back! Let’s celebrate!” That doesn’t mean dismissing sin; rather, it affirms that God’s grace now covers this person, and we rejoice over their restoration. If a church fails in this, it mirrors the elder brother’s attitude, “You did such terrible things, so you must suffer.” But Jesus clearly taught that “Heaven rejoices over the one sinner who repents.” To embody gospel living, a church must practice such open hospitality.
Moreover, existing members also need to repent constantly, because outward religion can mask a total ignorance of the Father’s heart. Self-righteousness can creep in over years of faithful service. Like the elder brother, we might be oblivious to the daily joy of being in the Father’s presence. Hence, the church must not only welcome the prodigal but also help the elder brother realize, “Your life can be joyful, because you have always been with the Father.” Only then can true “oneness” flourish.
All this is possible because the Father has “already given us everything.” The cross of Christ demonstrates that God the Son gave up everything, even His clothing. That dramatizes the father’s words in Luke 15:31, “All that is mine is yours.” If we believe in this abundant love, we need no longer cling anxiously to “what’s mine.” Those with more can give more; those with less can celebrate their shared inheritance. Everyone partakes in the Father’s house. Pastor David Jang calls this “the ultimate economics of the holy church community,” distinct from the worldly principles of competition and exclusion. Instead, God’s economy is about “rejoicing that the lost has returned, reaffirming the abundance of those already within, and sharing generously from the Father’s endless provision.”
From the beginning, Scripture celebrates this principle: “How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity” (Psalm 133). Acts 2 portrays the early church sharing possessions so that every need was met. This “economic revolution” sprang from a spiritual awakening in which believers acknowledged their possessions as belonging foremost to God and the community. The Parable of the Prodigal Son symbolically demonstrates that such transformation begins in the “Father’s heart.”
Hence, the spirituality of possession and oneness exemplified by the Prodigal Son can be summarized:
- We originally enjoy everything by abiding in the Father, but we forget this.
- By claiming “my share,” we separate ourselves from God and potentially end up in a wretched state.
- Yet upon our repentance and return, the Father unconditionally welcomes us and rejoices over what was lost and now found.
- Those who have been in the church for a long time may still miss the Father’s heart and thus need their own enlightenment.
- Embracing this journey, we recognize that everything is the Father’s, and thus not ours alone; this leads us to share and care, transforming the church and influencing society for good.
Applied practically, this demands a posture within the church of sharing resources, from benevolence to mission work, rather than clinging to our individual holdings. Without this underlying spirituality, conflicts arise. Yet in the parable, we see that “the Father’s house is always abundant,” enough for another feast whenever someone returns. Maintaining trust in that abundance allows the church to focus on “the joy of sharing” instead of “fighting over what’s mine.”
Pastor David Jang reiterates that “true freedom is realized only within God.” The prodigal left to pursue “freedom,” but it devolved into license and ultimately slavery. When he returned, he experienced genuine freedom and celebration in his father’s embrace. Jesus says, “If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:36). Our culture often interprets freedom as “doing whatever I want,” but real freedom is “resting in the Father’s acceptance, enjoying the inheritance that was always ours.” The church must continually invite people into that freedom. It starts with repentance and ends in unconditional forgiveness. The elder brother, too, is free to enter into the feast or remain outside fuming. Such choice exemplifies God’s desire for humans to love Him of our own will. The gospel’s power is precisely in giving everyone that possibility.
The Parable of the Prodigal Son resonates universally because “it is our own story.” We each have traversed the prodigal’s path in various ways—perhaps financially, spiritually, or in relationships. Or we have at times become the elder brother, protesting, “Why am I not rewarded for my diligence?” But in each scenario, the deeper problem is “distance from the Father.” Once we realize that, we discover the road to repentance, which meets the Father’s forgiveness. Our view of possessions broadens to embrace “All that is the Father’s is mine, to be shared with my family.” With that revelation, we finally become bold and free. Such freedom is not “having nothing,” but in fact “possessing everything.” As Paul taught, we may appear to have nothing, yet we have all things in Christ.
This is the hidden treasure of the gospel in Luke 15 and the path the church must take. The Pharisees and scribes demanded, “Why does Jesus eat with sinners?” and the ultimate response is: “Because they have returned, and God the Father rejoices over them.” And within the Father’s house, we already possess everything, so we need not be jealous or resentful. This parable resolves the fundamental human struggle with “possession” and “alienation,” teaching the greatest lesson of all.
Churches today must be continually renewed by this message. In reflecting on Luke 15, believers should ask: “In what ways am I like the prodigal?” “Am I like the elder brother who fails to understand the Father’s heart?” “Is our community free of destructive possessiveness?” Above all, we must recall, “We must return to the Father’s heart. Once we grasp that heart, both sinner and saint can rejoice as one.” This is how the church embodies one of Jesus’ greatest parables. Along the way, we experience the startling hospitality and unity of God’s kingdom. This, says Pastor David Jang, is the crux of his teaching: “A church must become a true family by learning the Father’s heart, which embraces both the returning prodigal and the jealous elder son.” That is the most beautiful conclusion taught by the Parable of the Prodigal Son.