I’m on retreat this weekend, a much-needed break from college deadlines. As ever with retreat houses, at least the ones I’ve been to, it feels like the middle of nowhere: a long winding track, surrounded by trees, and very little signal. It’s a strange relief to have an enforced break from technology. (Yes, I realise the irony of posting this. If I hold my phone in just the right position, I have just enough signal!)
There are a number of paintings and pictures on the walls here, but one in particular is very significant for me. In the main social space hangs a copy of Rembrandt’s The Return of the Prodigal Son.
It’s significant because when I was at university and first decided to try the local church, the vicar happened to be reading a book by Henri Nouwen about this very painting, reflecting on Jesus’ parable through Rembrandt’s image.
Seeing it takes me straight back to those early days, when I was first exploring faith. Back then, the biggest question in my heart was simple, but heavy: Can God love even me?
This evening, sitting quietly in that room, my eyes kept returning to the painting.
There are several figures in the scene, but the lighting makes the father and the younger son the clear focal point. The son kneels with his head bowed, dressed in rags, one shoe missing. The father stands over him, wrapped in a red cloak, leaning forward with his hands resting gently on his son’s shoulders, drawing him close.
The parable tells the story of a younger son who behaves in a deeply shameful way, squanders everything he has been given, and eventually returns home in desperation. He doesn’t expect forgiveness. He hopes only that his father might let him work as a hired servant. Instead, his father restores him fully to the family. The older brother, out in the fields, reacts very differently.
Over the years I’ve heard many sermons on this parable. At times I’ve recognised the older brother in myself, when judgement or jealousy gets in the way of rejoicing and loving people well.
But if I’m completely honest, that old question still sometimes whispers in the background.
Can God love even me?
And tonight, sitting there and gazing at that picture of the father holding his undeserving son, the answer feels clear again.
Yes.
No matter what we do, or where we go, the Father welcomes us with open arms. He draws us close and offers grace we could never earn and never deserve.
So if, on your own journey of faith, you ever find yourself doubting or questioning, remember this:
You are loved.
And there is nothing you can do that will make God stop loving you.
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