Scripture: Luke 15:11-32

It was the day he had been dreaming of.  It was the day he had been praying for.  After years of hoping for the best but always fearing the worst, his son was safely home.

And, yes, the father was realistic enough to know there were still be hurdles to jump and obstacles to overcome.   The unresolved issues that caused him to leave in the first place would eventually have to be dealt with.  After all these years of “freedom”, could he become accustom to living by schedules, standards, and strict regulations?  Or, when he had finally rebuilt his financial resources, would he simply walk out the door again?

But what was it the Holy Word said?  Don’t worry about tomorrow.  Today’s troubles are enough for today.  So today they would kill the fated calf and celebrate for this son who was dead is now alive; he was lost and is found. 

While we often stop the story at this point, we all know it doesn’t end there.  We wish it did because it would make it easier for us.  After all, even if we have been the prodigal – even if we have left home . . . even if we have experienced life on the wild side . . . we are sitting here today because somewhere, somehow, we experienced the forgiveness of a loving Father.   That is why we love this story so much!  It gives us hope that even the most rebellious of children will eventually return home and reminds us that God stand ready to love us and welcome us home regardless of where we have been and what we have done.

Just when we begin to feel really good about ourselves in general and God in particular, we are introduced to the older son – the one who remained home and did everything he had been asked to do.  He was the good child . . . the responsible child . . . the hardworking and faithful child. Out of everyone in the story, he is probably the one we know best – the one who is most like us.  That is exactly why he makes us so uncomfortable . . . why we prefer to stop the story before it actually ended.

But there was this older son who came in from the fields one day only to discover there was a party going on.  Now if you arrived home one night and the street was parked full of cars, all the lights were on in your house, and the sound of music came could be heard from within wouldn’t you dash inside to see what was going on?  So, has it ever struke you as odd that the older son remained outside until he could find one of the servants?  And when that poor, unsuspecting man told him – when he recounted all the happenings of the day and the immense joy of the master – what did this “good”, “hardworking”, “compassionate” brother do?  He was angry and refused to go in.  Even when the father came out and explained his reasoning, the older son refused to bend.  He refused to join the party.  

Christians, the real tragedy of this parable does not lie within the calloused, self-centered behavior of the youngest son.  No, the real tragedy lays with the older son - the responsible, hard-working, compassionate and caring child.  While he seemingly did everything right, underneath the well protected facade niceness he had become lost in a world of anger and resentment. 

So, unlike a good fairy tale, this parable does not have a happy ending.  In place of going inside and joining the celebration, we are left standing in the dark with the older brother.

And that is where we will stay until we can let go of the hurts and disappointments that are so often a part of living.  For you see, there is no room in our souls for both joy and resentment.  So, we have to choose.  We have to let one go of one or the other. 

If we hold onto the resentment – if we want to keep score; if we want to play “poor me”; if always see ourselves as the victim – we will distance ourselves from others and wall ourselves off from God.  If we hold onto the hurts, the disappointments, and the resentments they breed, we will never experience the sheer joy of stepping out of the darkness into the light of God’s great joy.

Christians, the fatted calf has already been killed.  The guests have been invited and many of them are already here.  And, yes, there are some who have slighted you and some may have even wounded you deeply.  But listen to the laughter – the sheer joy of being forgiven and welcomed home.  So, why not check your resentments at the door and go on in.  Who knows, you might discover the celebration is for you!  After all, everything he owns . . . everything he has . . . belongs to you.  Claim the joy.  Accept the grace.  Live out the peace.  And welcome home!