Sermon Recap+ Mar 30th 2025

We often experience the parable of the Prodigal Son by focusing only on the younger brother. However, the story of the Good Samaritan isn't just about one son—it's about both.  We think it's about one child who messed up and then came home. But what if the story is about two lost sons, each in need of grace, each in their own way?

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In Luke 15, Jesus tells a story that’s familiar to many of us: a younger son asks for his inheritance early (essentially wishing his father dead), leaves home, and squanders everything on reckless living. Out of desperation, he returns home, expecting rejection and to be a slave. But the father sees him from far off and runs to meet him—not with judgment, but with joy. He clothes him, embraces him, and throws a party because, as he says, “This son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”  

We often stop there, warmed by the father’s forgiveness. But the story continues.

The Older Son Wasn’t at the Party

While the celebration unfolds, the older son is still out in the field working—like he always is. He hears music and dancing, but instead of walking into the house (his house!), he calls over a servant to ask what’s going on. When he finds out the party is for that brother—the one who blew it all—he becomes angry and refuses to go in.

Here’s the twist: no one ever invited the older son to the party. The father didn’t send someone to fetch him. The celebration began without him. How unfair, right?

We don’t know why the father didn’t invite him. However, we can believe that perhaps Jesus was pointing to something deeper: the father was still waiting for the elder son’s heart to return, just as he waited for the younger’s body to return.

Two Prodigals, One Loving Father

Both sons were lost. One to the world. One to resentment to the work of the flesh.

The younger son left the house and returned in humility. The older son stayed home and worked—but never enjoyed the relationship. He even says, “I’ve worked like a slave for you.” Who told him he had to be a slave? The father just wanted him to be a son.

And when the father realizes the elder son is missing from the celebration, he does what he did before—he goes out to him.

The love of the father in this story isn’t divided between the sons. It’s multiplied. It’s relentless. It reaches both the wild and the responsible, the rebellious and the religious.

When Life Feels Unfair

I shared a few stories in the sermon—one about seeing a child left out of an ice cream moment, another about my computer frying from an outlet at Princeton, and one about sitting quietly among passionate seminary students discussing Micah 6:8. What ties them together? The tension we feel when things seem unfair.

Life can be unfair. Sometimes you do everything right and still end up broken, overlooked, or stuck. Like the older brother, you might wonder, “Where’s my goat? Where’s my celebration?”

But God doesn’t want you to just work. God doesn’t just want your church attendance. God wants your heart.

So What Does the Lord Require?

Micah 6:8 offers a clear answer:

“He has told you, O mortal, what is good: and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”

God isn’t asking for a thousand sacrifices or perfect behavior. God is asking for a relationship.

He wants to celebrate with you—not just watch you celebrate with your friends. He doesn’t want you to miss the music because you’re too tired or too bitter to walk inside.

So here’s the good news:If you’ve run away, the Father is watching the road, ready to run to you.If you’ve been working in the field, tired and frustrated, the Father is coming out to meet you too. You don’t need to prove your worth. You just need to come home.

The Invitation Still Stands

The story ends without knowing what the older son decides. Maybe that’s on purpose. Maybe it’s because you and I are writing that ending with our lives.

Will we stay outside the party, talking to the wrong voices and nursing our pride?Or will we walk in and celebrate the grace of God—not just for others, but for us, too?

There’s music in the house. There’s food on the table. There’s a Father who wants you to join the joy—not for what you’ve done, but for who you are.