Prodigal God — Arresting Affection
You know the younger son — the one who took the money and ran.
But there was another prodigal: one who never left the house, never broke a single rule, and resented every minute of the party. The Apostle Paul called himself “a Pharisee of Pharisees.” He was the older brother before he knew the Father — until grace dragged him off his horse on the Damascus road.
This cinematic rap tells that story — the parable through the eyes of the one who stayed, who kept score, who hunted believers from their homes — and the Father whose arresting affection ran out to meet him anyway.
Press play, then read along below.
Lyrics
Cram it, shove it, drag it — rage grows larger.
Gut-deep, white-knuckled — swallowed by anger.
Prodigal parable — I stared into that rage.
Older brother embodies it — every age.
I'm the Apostle Paul — before Damascus Road.
I am the older brother — a toad on that road.
Parable left undone — for a Pharisee.
But I lived its ending — no one sees.
Sitting at the table — same ol' routine,
Father, brother, me — in between.
Oughta be breaking bread — instead bro said —
"Father, your estate. Now!"
Father,
you sit stone-bound — don't make a sound.
You give it all — never stand your ground.
You split our lives — inheritance unwound.
You dig your grave — six feet underground.
You should warn him — bloodlines done.
Quote Deuteronomy — twenty-one.
You bless him into the setting sun.
I slave for you — working, working!
I am — the faithful one.
Wine guzzles his money — concubines his time.
Now bro's at the gate — rehearsing his lines.
Bro buried you for his — now digs you up for mine.
You should warn him — but you saw past time.
Moses commanded...
Drag your prodigals — to the gate.
Purge your rebellious — seal their fate.
Stone your sons — cleanse your land.
Hear and fear — it's God's command.
There stands snake — lips moving, practicing his lies.
You sprint from the table — to the gate, no disguise.
Your arms wrap snake, now he's free.
Your favorite robe draping that snake — not me!
Father, you run to him — now walk to me!
Then you say to me —
"Precious son — you're always with me!
All that's mine is yours — can you see?
He was dead, now he's alive — come see!"
No! No! It's you, Father — this is on you!
You trample Moses — what'd you do!
Embrace chaos — you break the Law!
You're that prodigal — you're the flaw!
Drag you — to the gate.
Purge your rebellious — seal your fate.
Nail you — cleanse our land.
Hear and fear — it's God's command.
I wanted them to drag you — past the gate.
They nailed you to the cross — sealed your fate.
Now believers say, "You're back" — I say, "Hunt you down!
I'll shove 'em, drag 'em — believers bound."
I am a wild boar, in a Pharisee's robe,
breaking down doors, drag them from home,
casting my vote, stones reload,
now marching to Damascus, down the road.
Then your arresting affection — blinds my eyes.
Father, your voice in the fire — no more disguise.
"Paul, Paul, why do you hunt me down?"
I fall face down — this boar hit the ground.
I hunt you down — you run to me!
I hear and know — I'm the prodigal!
I'm that flaw!
Drag me — to the gate.
Purge your rebellious — seal my fate.
Nail your son — cleanse our land.
Hear and fear — it's God's command.
Footsteps over me — this is my end.
Hand on my eyes — scales descend.
Brother Ananias carries me home.
He pulls my chair, sets my plate.
Father, I executed your law, executed you.
I saw only red — blind by black.
You open my fist into a hand I never knew.
I'll pull your chair, I'll set your plate — Father, come back.
Father...
Father...
You sprint to me — run past the gate.
You purge my hate — seal my fate.
You smile on me — heal my soul.
I hear and know — I trust your hand.
Prodigal God.
Prodigal God.
You love us all.