The Prodigal Son & Penal Atonement
20 May 2026 Hits:19
I’ve been reflecting on the Prodigal Son story recently. It’s an amazing parable that seems to encapsulate Jesus’ message of good news—the Gospel.
Part of my reflection has focused on how this relates to—and contrasts sharply with—one of the theories I once held about the atonement: Penal Substitution. I’ve spoken and written about this before, but not directly compared its logic with that of the Prodigal parable.
The Definition
Let’s begin with a definition. Penal Substitutionary Atonement, which gained prominence during the Reformation, holds that God’s justice required Jesus’ death so that He could forgive people’s sins.
God loves us, yet He is angry at our sin. Because He is holy, forgiveness requires His justice to be satisfied. Therefore, out of love, He punished His Son in our place. Jesus’ death appeased God’s wrath. Accept this, and you are free from it; reject it, and you face God’s anger. In summary, God killed Jesus for our benefit.
The Change
I once believed—and taught—this theory, convinced Jesus’ death satisfied God’s wrath. A few years ago, that belief was challenged, and I began to notice its flaws.
One challenge was the Parable of the Prodigal Son. Tax collectors and sinners gathered to hear Jesus, while Pharisees and teachers of the law complained, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” In that culture, sharing a meal signified full acceptance.
In response to their criticism, Jesus told three parables about loss: the lost sheep, the lost coin and the lost son. Each story is intended to defend Jesus’ associations with these people and to defend the people themselves.
The Prodigal
Jesus told of a man with two sons. The younger son asked for his inheritance early, then left for a distant country, where he squandered everything in reckless living. After a famine struck, he grew desperate and took a job feeding pigs.
Realising his condition, he returned home to ask to be made a servant, believing he was no longer worthy to be a son. But the father felt differently. As he was still far away, his father saw him, ran to him, and embraced and kissed him.
The son confessed his sin, but the father ordered his servants to bring the best robe, a ring, and sandals, and to prepare a feast. “This son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”
The Prodigal Revised
I love this story because it captures God’s heart and Jesus’ gospel message—seeking and saving the lost. But if we reimagined the parable through the lens of Penal Substitutionary Atonement, everything would change upon the son’s return:
Coming to his senses, he decided to return home and ask his father to make him a servant, saying he was no longer worthy to be called his son. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and ran to him. The father was about to embrace and kiss the young man, but then remembered how angry he was with his son for wasting his inheritance—never mind the drunken parties and sex outside marriage.
“Wait,” said the father. “I want to forgive you, but I need to deal with my anger first. Now, who can I direct my anger at?” The father thought about it and finally settled on his firstborn son. He ordered his servants to bring his other son, then to whip, beat, mock, and crucify him.
Once his son was dead, the father said, “That’s better. My sense of justice is fully satisfied. Now, my dear boy, here are the best robe, a ring, and sandals. Let’s prepare a feast to celebrate. Welcome home.”
The Problem
Somehow, I don’t think this version of the story would resonate as strongly as the original—yet that’s the point. We know no loving parent would ever act this way, so why do we ascribe this behaviour to God?
In his sermon on the Mount, Jesus acknowledged the goodness of earthly parents but said our Father in heaven is far better. I’m a good dad, and I love my kids. I would never punish one of my daughters for her sister’s wrongdoing. That’s not justice; that’s ridiculous.
The Point
The point is this: love drives the message of the cross, in direct contrast to the wrath-driven logic of Penal Substitutionary Atonement. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son. Suggesting that God’s wrath was satisfied by his son’s death diminishes both God’s loving nature and Christ’s sacrifice, unlike the father’s loving welcome in the parable.
To clarify, I affirm Substitutionary Atonement, but not in a penal sense. Paul writes: God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, that we might become God’s righteousness. Paul uses accounting language—like exchanging currency. If you’ve travelled, you’ll know the experience of visiting a money exchange to swap your dollars for local cash.
Because of the Cross, our sin has been exchanged for God’s righteousness. That’s an amazing trade. Our sin is placed on Jesus; his righteousness is placed on us, and it’s all rooted in divine love, not anger.
And that remains true today. God is not angry with you; he loves you, and nothing can separate you from his love. This is the heart of the good news: you are deeply and unconditionally loved. Let that truth shape your journey today and every day.
Rob Buckingham
Senior Minister
