Covenant Provision: A Tale of Two Sons | Rev. Elisha Satvinder


Summary & Key points
The sermon explores Jesus' Parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32), centering on God's nature as rooted in covenant and relationship. Rather than focusing only on the younger son's journey, the sermon underscores the importance of both sons—the rebellious younger and the self-righteous older—to offer a fuller view of humanity’s relationship with God. This dual perspective reveals the complexities of God’s work in our lives, showing His commitment to nurturing a bond with us. The younger son represents those who seek independence from God, symbolized by his demand for inheritance—a culturally offensive act implying rejection of his family and societal ties. After wasting his wealth and facing despair, he reaches a moment of genuine repentance, realizing his need to return home. The father's response demonstrates radical grace: rather than condemning the son, he embraces him with unconditional love, celebrating his return. This act emphasizes that God's forgiveness is unearned, highlighting the transformative effect of true repentance. In contrast, the older son exemplifies self-righteousness and entitlement, expecting rewards for his obedience. His resentment at his brother’s warm reception reveals the pitfalls of a transactional faith, where loyalty is a means to personal gain rather than genuine love. The sermon warns against this mindset, emphasizing that both outward rebellion and inward self-righteousness can distort our understanding of God’s grace. Ultimately, the sermon calls believers to go beyond mere moral performance and seek a heartfelt, relational connection with God. It stresses that:
  • God’s grace surpasses human shortcomings and self-imposed barriers.
  • Repentance is not about earning favor but a return to relationship with God.
  • True spiritual growth requires a rejection of both rebellion and self-righteousness, fostering a genuine surrender to God’s transformative love, which renews and restores.
Show Transcript

Good morning, everyone. Wonderful, wonderful to see all of you.

I realized when I did the title, there’s also a restaurant called Two Sons. So I was thinking, should I put their logo there? No. We’re going to look at Luke chapter 15 today, but I’m still following in that vein of the beginning—God is a God of Covenant, God is the God of relationship. How is He building it? What is He doing? How is God working in our hearts and through our hearts and our lives? What’s going on there? I want to continue just building different facets of it, and today is one of those. I’m going to use the prodigal here, Luke 15:11-32.

I want you to just notice the words and the emotion here in this passage:

“Jesus continued, ‘There was a man who had two sons. The younger one said to his father, “Father, give me my share of the estate.” So he divided his property between them. Not long after that, the youngest son got together all he had, set out for a distant country, and there squandered his wealth in wild living. After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.

When he came to his senses, he said, “How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! I will set out and go back to my father and say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.'” So he got up and went to his father.

But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him. He ran to his son, threw his arms around him, and kissed him. The son said to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” But the father said to his servants, “Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate, for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.” So they began to celebrate.

Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked him, “What is going on?” The servant replied, “Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.”

The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. But he answered his father, “Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!”

“My son,” the father said, “you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”

Now, you would agree, this is probably the most celebrated, most well-known parable of Jesus, isn’t it? We’ve heard it so many ways, but primarily, what we have done over many, many decades is only focus on one son. We’ve always made it about one son, and the truth is, as we read, it’s never about one son. It’s actually both the sons—the older brother and the younger son. So, for us to understand the story, we must respond to what is being said here. Actually, the story brings a comparison and a contrast of both sons. Only then will we understand this parable in its entirety. I would even say it’s a very radical message, a very radical message of what Jesus was saying to them, and it actually relates to our relationship with God.

So, let’s see how this unfolds and where we come into the story here. Of course, we start with the two sons and the place of contrast. The youngest son, as we read, asks for his inheritance. Now, we must go back to the culture of the Middle East in those days when Jesus was talking to them. They must have been shocked to hear this parable because inheritance is only divided when the patriarch or the father or the owner dies. It is only divided then; it’s never given before. Today, we write wills—everything is already said. Only when the father dies do they get the inheritance, never before.

So, this son is essentially asking the father, “You can die, but give me what belongs to me.” In that culture, the oldest son will always get two-thirds—the lion’s share of the inheritance. Here, the son is literally demanding the father to be dead. He wanted his father’s things more than he wanted the father himself. Because in that culture, again, and we’ll look at it a bit more, it is very damning what the young son has just asked. He is saying, “I want my independence.” Remember when we looked at Adam and Eve at the beginning of this whole journey? They had everything given to them, and yet they wanted independence. There was a place of not trusting God, wanting something beyond what God had offered them and given them.

We want wealth, we want independence. Sometimes our actions, when we talk about families, we can live very independently of our families, and our status can be very different from our families, and we know it can tear families apart. It can really destroy. So, it actually represents here a sinful heart that seeks God’s gifts without seeking God’s relationship or even allowing ourselves to submit our lives to Him. That’s a very clear, powerful message that Jesus is bringing.

When we contrast the older son, he seems to be this good boy, isn’t he? He’s staying at home, he’s loyal to his father, he’s doing whatever he needs to do. But when we read this story, his heart is going to be exposed. Also, Jesus is doing something, and I will mention this later. Jesus’ emphasis was more on the second son than the first. The real truth of it—what Jesus was communicating to them was about the older son.

Now, let’s look at this a bit more. The younger son values his father’s possessions more than the father himself. We read it, but we will look at it a bit more. The younger son openly rebels. The older son actually has resentment in his heart. He actually covers everything very well, but the youngest son openly rebels. He shows his true colors, so to speak. For years, the older son believed this one thing. His resentment comes out so clearly because he believed the years of his obedience and his loyalty to the father entitled him to his blessings. Sometimes you’ll say, “Because I am a believer now, God should bless me.” We feel we come to a place of entitlement.

Both sons, in different ways, reflect our tendency to either openly reject God’s ways and His love or to seek to control Him through moral performance, through doing things. The youngest son represents the one who rebels openly. The oldest son represents a self-righteous heart that believes, “I deserve God’s favor. I deserve God’s favor. I should have God’s favor. Where is God? Why is God not coming through?”

Let’s go a bit further and look at this radical grace that we see displayed by the Father, which is actually the radical grace of our Lord Jesus and our Father in heaven. The striking thing in this parable is the Father’s response to both sons. It’s amazing, given the backdrop of what Jesus was communicating. The original audience listening to Jesus really couldn’t believe what they were hearing. For them, the father’s reaction was unthinkable. In that culture, and many of us today, the father should respond with anger, give the guy two slaps, and say, “Get out of the house.” That was the expected response. So, it’s unthinkable in their minds when Jesus talks about how the father handles everything.

When the younger son requests his inheritance, the father doesn’t react negatively. He says, “Okay, I’ll give it to you.” He divided the property; the word inheritance or property in the original is the word “life.” So, he literally divided his life. If we look at it a bit more, we’ll understand why they were probably enraged listening to what was happening. In ancient Middle Eastern culture, wealth and land are tied up to your personality, your status in society, who you are as a person. It’s all tied up—your significance, your identity is all tied up together.

So, literally, what the father is being told to do is tear your life away, tear your social standing away, just give me what I want, and I really don’t care what happens to you. It’s quite dramatic because the meaning is much deeper. He didn’t say, “Okay, give me the third bungalow, I’m fine. Sell it away, give me the money, I’m leaving.” No, it’s more than that because it’s all tied to their personality—who they are, their standing in society, their family. This was actually a very painful moment for the father. The youngest son is literally saying, “Tear your life away.” The father’s wealth is his land. He’s going to give one-third of it to the son, and he just can’t give the son. He has to sell it. When he sells it, the community is going to say, “Are you okay? Are you going to die? Why are you selling your land? You never give your inheritance unless you die. Is everything okay at home?” Imagine the embarrassment and the difficulty the father is facing, what he is going through right now. It’s better than any movie. Just this is real. We can read it and miss a lot of what Jesus was going into to tell here.

In that era, your identity is tied up to the land. If you lost your land, you literally lost yourself. When we watch these old movies or read these old books, when they lose their land, you realize they’ve lost everything. They are chased away, they go into poverty, or they go and be slaves elsewhere. They’ve lost everything. So, identity is wrapped up—status, community, identity—all wrapped up in that property. The younger son is saying, “Father, tear yourself away, tear your standing away from the community. I don’t care.”

Now, if you are a father, and you are in that position, or even though you’re in a family and somebody in your family does that, what would the emotions be? What would the feeling be? A lot, isn’t it? So, he takes the father, sells it, takes the money, and he probably thought, “I can do it, man. No issues.” So, he goes off, parting with prostitutes, drinking—whatever it is. The famine hits, he loses everything. When you don’t have money, who your true friends are, nobody takes him in, right? Nobody takes him in. Where does he end up? He ends up—can you imagine? It’s like asking a Muslim to go work on a pig farm. Jews and Muslims—pigs are considered unclean. Can you imagine this guy has gone that low? Now, he’s working on a pig farm. That’s how low it’s gone. So, he’s working on a pig farm, and he’s thinking, “Oh dear, I’m really impoverished.” He’s literally on the ground. He comes to his senses and says, “Dear me, no friends, no money, nothing.” Then he thinks, “You know what? I think the first thing I should do is go home. I should go home. There’s enough bread in my father’s house. Nobody is hungry—nor the slaves nor the servants. Nobody is hungry here, and I’m starving. I’m dying. I’ll go back. I’ll confess to my father.”

So, the whole plan is this: The beginning is, “Go home.” “I’m going to go home.” Sounds simple, right? It has a deeper meaning. Home is not primarily a place that you go to; it’s a relationship. It’s where you belong, where you are accepted. When we think of home, we might say, “Hey, come home. Welcome home.” But sometimes we can be so disconnected as a people, as a community, that we don’t understand what it is to be connected, even as the people of God. Our homes can be so disconnected, and sometimes we say, “This one home,” but it’s not a home. God’s idea of home and our idea of home can be very different. We can look at something else, but Jesus looks at it very differently. Home is a place of relationship. Hope is not a place of just rules and regulations, dos and don’ts—a place of safety, refuge. Yes, but it’s more than that. Many times, we long to go back home, isn’t it? Long to go back home. “Hey, we’re all here. We are restful. Hey, everybody is glad you’re back. There’s celebration, there’s food, there’s conversations, there’s laughter. There’s hope.”

Imagine if we translate that into our community of believers and say, “So good to see you home this week.” When there’s friction, what happens? When we push this work a bit more, we tear off something from each other, don’t we? Home is not a physical place; home is a relationship. When we go home to God, when we say, “Bye-bye, Earth,” we say, “God has called them home,” don’t we? We use that word very freely. “Come home, God has called them home.” What God says is, “Come back, you belong to me.” So, a relationship with God is more than Jesus forgiving me of my sins. It’s more than that. It’s deeper than that.

Now, he longs to go home. He realizes what he has done, but it’s not going to be easy. So, the second thing he’s going to do is, besides deciding to go home, he says, “I’m going to go back to my father’s home, and I’m going to say, ‘Father, I’m not worthy to be called your son. I’ve done damage. Make me like your hired servant.'” Not a servant, actually a hired worker. The request was never to become a slave. A slave is different. Slaves worked on the land. They worked on the ground, stayed there. The hired hands actually lived, probably, in an annexed building next to the main home. They lived around the same place, maybe just further out, but they worked together. They had a wage; they got paid money.

What was his idea here? He is saying to the father, “I will pay you back what I took,” but it doesn’t work that way. He knows he cannot come back to that community. The whole community knows what he did. They know exactly what he has done, what he has wished upon the father. They know exactly the shame that he has brought to the father and how he has insulted the entire community. So, he has no moral framework; he’s bankrupt that way. So, he says, “You know what? I cannot just come back and say, ‘I’m so sorry, take me in.’ It doesn’t work that way. How am I going to make restitution? Father, I don’t deserve to be your son. I don’t want the status of a son. I will pay back. Let me earn my way back. Pay me. I’ll be just like your hired servants. That’s what I’m going to do.”

So, he figures this out, heads home, walking back. We read when the father sees him from a distance. Now, I’m not just saying to dads here, parents—whoever it is—you’re sitting in your living room, and you can see from a distance that this scoundrel child or brother is coming back. What is in your mind? “Oh, he’s come back. I wonder what he wants now.” We have different ways of handling this. We have different thoughts because of the hurt. It’s like being torn away.

Now, he’s walking back. What emotions are going through the father’s mind? What emotions would you go through? So, the father is probably saying, “I wonder what story he has now,” because he knows what happened. He knows where he’s gone. He knows he squandered all his money. What does the story tell us when he returns? The father doesn’t even give him time to speak. Instead of him coming closer, the father runs to him. I want us to go back again to the culture of that day. In that culture, the patriarchs don’t run. You don’t run to somebody—you run to them. There’s too much pride. Children run, young people run, ladies maybe, men no. Also, remember they didn’t wear pants; they all had skirts, so they had to carry up their skirts when they ran. Embarrassing for the fathers.

Imagine the emotions being worked up with the audience that was listening to Jesus. They are like, “Yeah, that guy ran? I will probably, in his mind, he’s thinking, ‘I’ll kick that father. Run, I’m not going to run.'” But Jesus is saying the father runs to him. “Wow.” They all think, “What’s next? What’s next in this story?” “Man, what is he getting to?” The father grabs him. If you look in the original, he grabs him, kisses him, his head on his shoulder, he is weeping. He is celebrating, and the son is trying to rehearse his repentance, and the father doesn’t listen. In fact, he turns around and gets the robe, gets the ring, gets the sandals. “My son has returned.” And again, the signet ring is a symbol of sonship, being a son, part of the family. Those days, no contract signing. You put the symbol of the ring; it means authority, power, belonging. It’s a powerful thing.

So, what’s happening here right now? The son is saying, “I don’t want to be brought back into the family. I want to earn my way back.” But the father says, “You can’t earn your way back. I’m going to bring you back, and I’m going to bestow you back again as my child, as my son.” This is what we call radical grace—radical grace of God, the amazing grace of God. Sometimes we say, “This is amazing grace.” It is amazing grace. He throws this amazing, huge celebration. It’s party time. The father refuses for the son to pay back. What does he say? He restores him fully with radical grace. What does it symbolize? It symbolizes God’s unconditional love and forgiveness.

Some people are like the younger brother. They want the things God provides but don’t want God. They want their independence. They want to live their lives the way they want to live them, and they believe it will bring them happiness. “I want to live it now. God should give me.” Some believers are like them, like the youngest son. They finally decide one day, “I have to go home. I have to.” Their heart has to turn back to God. This parable represents God’s heart for us—the father. The story’s message is that no matter who we are, how far we drift, how bad we think we have become, if you come home, God accepts you. God accepts you. He will love you with what is absolutely radical grace.

The challenge is this: Many believers are like this younger son. “I’m not worthy.” You always feel that it’s something you need to do something, of your worthiness, to earn back your way to God. But we can’t. It’s not by works. Our works are as filthy rags, the Scripture says. So, here we are. “I want to try to pull myself together.” I’ve heard how many people say, “When I get my life in order, I come back.” You can never get your life in order. It’s not about getting your life in order. It’s about saying, “I want to come back home to you, God. I want to come back. I want to surrender my heart again to you.” That is the truth because we cannot get it right. It’s amazing grace. It’s not by works. While we were yet sinners, Christ died. So, we must understand the place of salvation.

We are accepted. It’s a standing that God gives us as His children. We have become the children of God. The father’s radical grace towards the youngest son powerfully speaks of what God’s unconditional love is and His willingness to forgive. Grace comes before restitution. Grace gives us that restitution. It’s never earned; it’s freely given, and we know that, don’t we? So, if we stop here, we will not see the full story. How does the story move on?

Now, we look at the elder brother, the trap of self-righteousness. We can look at the son, the youngest son, and stop there, but the oldest son actually is a powerful story. The thing is, this is the part of the story that the Jews were really upset with Jesus about. Why? Because He’s telling them—they are the older brother. He’s actually telling them, “Let’s see why.” He’s not telling them that they are the prodigal. He’s telling them, “You are the older brother.” That’s who you are because you forget what you have and you disallow others to come into what God gives.

So, he hears he’s coming back and hears the music—the new hot DJ in town is there. Man, the balloons are all blown up, everything is happening. The music is blasting, and he’s thinking, “What’s happening here? A feast is thrown.” He hears what happens. He is angry, he is furious. He says, “I’m not going to celebrate. I’m not going out. I’m not coming in.” His words actually speak of how corrupt his own heart is. He said, “I’ve been slaving for you all these years. You never gave me anything.” His heart is exposed. He believes his loyalty and obedience should have earned him favor.

We can come to a place and say, “How long? Be a Christian, go to church, give—where’s God? What has God done for me?” We can do that. So, this place is, “Why bother? Do anything. What has God done for me? What has God done for me?” Self-righteousness is as dangerous as rebellion. It’s not that the younger son was worse off than the oldest son. No, both are dangerous attitudes to have. Both are detrimental. The elder brother’s relationship with the father is transactional. “I do this for you, you give me that.” It’s a business transaction. “I do this for you; what are you doing for me?” Our relationship with God can be very transactional. “This week, I give you. Other than that, please don’t bother me.”

He believes his performance entitles him to blessings. “I give; you give.” “No, it’s not transactional; it’s relational. It’s home; it’s the father.” So, the oldest brother’s relationship is transactional. In the end, he is really enraged at the father, just as the youngest son was. Jesus’ point here is that sin is not only found in outward rebellion, but it’s also in the heart that seeks to manipulate God through moral superiority. “I’m better. Hey, I got principles.” “I don’t have to.” That’s not true. That is as bad as rebellion—moral superiority.

So, the elder brother represents those who seek to earn God’s favor through moral performance. If both sons misunderstand the nature of God’s love—the father’s love—one is rebellion, one is self-righteousness. Those days, the food is not a lamb, and remember, the fattened calf is really expensive. The older brother is thinking that the calf is his because it’s in the inheritance. He’s upset now that the father is lavishing something on that useless one who has spent his life with prostitutes and everything. He’s upset, and we can sometimes forget our inheritance in God and how we need to share freely, receive freely, give. We can live very selfish lives.

Here, he is upset because he thinks the father has no right to give the son anything. He sees his inheritance getting less. The whole community is there when you kill a fattened calf. It’s not, “I am goring.” A fattened calf means celebration. The whole community comes for him. He was thinking, “Go and catch some chickens for this joker. Just maybe take the goat.” Why the fattened calf? Why? That’s the radical grace of God, isn’t it? Sometimes we get upset, “Why is this person succeeding?” No, this parable speaks deeply into all of our hearts. It speaks deeply into all of our hearts. He is seeing his inheritance going.

So, the whole issue is home. I want to begin to land this with these two other thoughts here—the deeper meaning of repentance. The parable introduces the theme of home, not merely as a physical place but as a relationship with God, with our own physical homes, our community of believers. That’s celebrative, isn’t it? So, when he is starving, the younger son is broken, he’s lost, he’s got nothing. He realizes true home is the father’s house. That’s the true house. The issue is more than food; he realized he’s accepted. That he’s accepted.

So, repentance is an act of returning home, returning to the heart of God—not to earn salvation, not to earn brownie points. No, we come because we know God restores. Amen. We know God restores, and that is the truth. Give me a few more minutes, and let me kind of lend this. We must realize one thing: repentance is not about working to regain God’s favor but about coming to Him as we are, knowing that He will restore us through His grace.

Adam and Eve—we know when we looked at it—what was the issue with Adam and Eve besides this independence, this arrogance? Let’s look at the Scripture again. After they have disobeyed God, rebelled against God, God says, “Don’t eat this one tree. Do not eat from this one tree.” When the devil tempts Eve, she sees it, and all of a sudden, she forgets her relationship with God. Now, God says, “What have you done, Adam?” I want to relate back to something with the older son. He says, “The woman you put here with me.” When the older son met the father, you see, he didn’t even go into the house. You think the younger son embarrassed the father; the older son is now embarrassing the father’s wife. Now, the patriarch, the head of the house, has to go out and humble himself to meet the son. He doesn’t say, “Father.” He says, “You! I have served you, this son of yours.” It’s quite rude. “Look at this here. Hey, what have you done?” The woman you put here, the serpent deceived her. Is anybody taking responsibility? No, no one is taking responsibility. Everywhere is blame shifting.

Many of us, when we mess up in life, how often do we say, “I messed up”? “I did wrong. I did wrong.” I think that would be so restorative. “I did wrong.” The woman, if the serpent deceived, let us pause for a while. Are there places where we just have to say, “You know what? God, I messed up. I need to get it right.” Hey, relationships. “Hey, look, I’m sorry. Come on.” Yeah, “I messed up. I shouldn’t have.”

Home represents the relationship with God, where we are entirely accepted and loved. Repentance is not about earning our way back to God. It’s not about, “I’m going to do something.” The whole issue is, “I return to Him, and I receive from Him.” Sometimes that’s the hardest thing to do because I have to acknowledge, “I really need help. I really need help.” So, let me close this thought. What’s the message here? The message is about absolute grace. I can have the worship team come up—the message is about absolute grace, radical grace. I’m going to wait for them to come up because I really just want to draw your attention here.

As we pray this morning, those of you online as well, just quiet down your heart and your mind and hear the sound of the Father. The father could have reacted to both sons differently, given the culture. He could have driven both of them out. He had the right; the community would support him. The first son would have been beaten up, and if he faced death, nobody would have bothered. They would say, “You deserve it. You wished your father dead, and now you die.” The older son would have been told, “How dare you disobey your father.” But the father’s response is to both of them. You realize the parable ends very abruptly. It ends very abruptly. There’s no closing to it. The father looks at the younger son; his heart is being torn out literally because that’s what the son had asked. Remember, the word property means “to give me is to tear away life.” It means life.

God’s heart is torn away whenever we decide to be independent. We hurt Him. When we think we are good, we also inflict that self-righteousness or rebellion. The heart of the whole parable is this radical, absolute grace. I live with that perspective, and that changes the way I think, behave, and live. How I look at others. The father’s heart here responds, speaks about how God responds to all of us. He doesn’t treat us the way our sin deserves us to be or our arrogance, our pride, our denial, our defiance, our greed—whatever it is. He restores. I want you to think of this: Can we stand up together? Who would you identify with today—the youngest son or the oldest son? The youngest son reminds us of one wanting to come back no matter how far we have strayed. God says, “Come home. Come home.” The older brother—we examine now what the motives of our own hearts are. The motivations: “Do I serve God to get something? Do I give to get something, or do I love Him because of who He is?”

When we think of the message of Jesus—whether you call it the gospel or whatever it is—it is that you and I are restored not because of who we are, what we can do, or how bad we are. It’s about what Jesus has done. Amen. Rebellion and self-righteousness—both need to experience God’s grace. Amen.