The God Sin Vergüenza

“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.” — Luke 15:20

The journey into Metanoia Vol. 2 begins with the single If You Ever Go, and its weight lies in the story it tells. The song opens with God’s perspective in the first two verses — calling, assuring, inviting. But in the third verse, the voice shifts: it is the Prodigal speaking. This is the same soul from Metanoia Vol. 1 who once planted the seed of change. The first step into a new way of life felt hopeful, but it was almost immediately followed by stumbling. Falling isn’t foreign to faith; in fact, the very first steps often feel the hardest.

That verse becomes the confession of the stumble, the honesty of hearing the Shepherd’s voice calling from over the hills while still being pulled by “sweet nothings.” And it sets the stage for one of the most shocking details in Jesus’ parable: the Father runs.

In the culture of Jesus’ day, no man of honor would run. To run meant lifting your robe, exposing your legs, and looking foolish in front of your community. Dignified men walked; servants ran. But God is different. He is the God sin vergüenza — the God without shame, the God unashamed.

He does not guard His reputation at our expense. He risks ridicule, bears the shame, and makes Himself look foolish all to get to us before condemnation does. The Father is more concerned with our restoration than His appearance.

Reflection

The gospel isn’t about us climbing back in dignity. It’s about a Father who runs sin vergüenza to cover us in grace. The world may whisper, “Shame on you,” but He shouts louder, “I am unashamed of you.”

Takeaway

Falling doesn’t cancel the call. Even when “sweet nothings” lure us away, we can still hear the voice over the hills, and it belongs to a Father running faster than our shame.

Prayer

Lord, You are the God sin vergüenza. Thank You for loving me beyond reputation, beyond shame, beyond what makes sense. When I stumble on the first steps of change, remind me that You are already running, unashamed, to embrace me.

In Jesus’ name, Amén.