This post is a continuation of thought from a previous post “The Prodigal Son: It’s Not About You (Or Me)–Part 1.“

In Part 1, we explored how the parable of the prodigal son is not just a generic salvation story but a covenant drama. The prodigal represents Israel’s “tax collectors and sinners” (Jews) returning to the fold. The older brother represents the Pharisees, refusing to rejoice at their repentance. And the father embodies God’s extravagant covenant faithfulness.

But this covenantal frame also resolves a theological puzzle. The prodigal son has often been misread as a foil against Calvinism, as if Jesus were teaching free will over against doctrines of grace. When we restore the parable to its covenantal context, the apparent foil disappears.

The Common Misuse: A Free-Will Parable?

Critics of Calvinism sometimes point to the prodigal son as a “proof text” for human free will. Their argument runs something like this:

• The prodigal “came to his senses” (Luke 15:17). Doesn’t that mean he made the decisive move himself?

• The father only runs to him after the son decides to return. Doesn’t that suggest prevenient grace or even pure human initiative?

• The story is about a son “choosing” to come home. Doesn’t that contradict the Calvinist idea of effectual calling or irresistible grace?

On this reading, the parable functions as Exhibit A for the Arminian: grace may be offered, but the real hinge is human choice.

The Covenant Frame Clears The Fog

This way of reading only makes sense if we assume the parable is about how unbelievers get saved. But Part 1 showed that’s not the case. The prodigal son is already a son. The parable is about restoration within the covenant family and the exposure of Pharisaic self-righteousness.

• Already a son. The prodigal does not become a child by his repentance; he was always a son of the father. His return is about reconciliation, not adoption. This undermines the “free will” argument at the root. The parable never portrays how one becomes a child of God—it presupposes sonship.

• The Father’s initiative dominates. Even when the son “comes to himself,” his restoration depends entirely on the father’s action: running, embracing, clothing, feasting. As Kenneth Bailey points out, the father’s humiliating sprint down the road would have been a shocking reversal of social norms, emphasizing that reconciliation is his work from beginning to end (Poet and Peasant, pp. 162–165). It was the father’s right to embrace or reject.

• The older brother unmasks works-righteousness. The real punchline is the elder brother’s refusal to celebrate. As Craig Blomberg notes, “the climactic point of the parable lies not with the prodigal’s repentance but with the elder brother’s refusal to rejoice” (Interpreting the Parables, p. 170). The parable critiques legalism, not Calvinism.

A Reformed Reading

When read covenantally, the prodigal son actually illustrates Reformed doctrines of grace rather than contradicting them:

• Total depravity. The son is destitute, degraded, and feeding pigs—an unclean, helpless image. He has nothing to offer.

• Unconditional election. His sonship is not revoked by his rebellion. He is restored not because he meets conditions, but because the father has mercy.

• Effectual grace. The father’s embrace interrupts the son’s rehearsed speech. The decisive act of reconciliation is the father’s, not the son’s.

• Perseverance of the saints. The son never ceases to be a son, even when estranged. His identity is secured by the father’s covenant faithfulness.

As N. T. Wright reminds us, the parable is “about Israel coming home from exile,” and the tragedy is that Israel’s leaders refuse to join the party (Jesus and the Victory of God, p. 128). In Calvinist terms, this is the visible covenant community rejecting the grace set before them, while the repentant return is sealed by the Father’s action.

Why This Matters

By placing the prodigal son back into its covenantal frame, we not only read the parable more faithfully but also avoid a false theological dilemma. The story does not pit Jesus against Calvinism. Instead, it dramatizes covenant mercy, exposing the folly of self-righteousness and celebrating the Father’s joy in welcoming the wayward home.

The prodigal son, far from being a foil to Calvinism, becomes one of its richest parables. It shows that God’s grace always precedes, always secures, and always rejoices in the return of His children.

In Part 3: Coming Home to the Father’s Joy