Summary: This a Sermon that can be done as a drama. No props needed but a glass of water.

Luke 15:1-3; 11-32 (ESV)

Wow, thanks for letting me rest here for awhile and for the water. It has been a long journey, and I needed to catch my breath. I am excited to go and see some of my cousins, but really, I can’t wait for the trip to be over and to get back to my own village. I am just a worker there, but I work for the most wonderful man.

Although, sometimes, it is really hard to understand his actions. It wasn’t all that long ago when his second oldest son gave us all a shock. Out of the blue he walked up to his Dad and said, “Father, give me my share of the property that is coming to me.” I couldn’t believe it! He might as well have said, “Father, you are more good to me dead than you are alive, so you might as well give me my inheritance now.”

We all thought we knew what was coming next. A smack on the back of the head and a, “Don’t you ever talk to me that way again, get back to work!” But we all stood there, in open mouth silence as our master simply and silently went ahead and made arrangements to divide his property and livestock between his two sons. The younger son took his share, and sold it all off in only a few days, for what had to be only a fraction of what it was really worth. And then he was gone.

We got word from the occasional traveler about him. He went to a far off land and squandered his property in reckless living. And It didn’t take him long at all to empty his pockets. I imagine he had a lot of friends when he was throwing extravagant parties and buying all the wine. But they were nowhere to be found when the money ran out. In fact to make matters worse, a severe famine arose in that country and he began to be in need. This kid couldn’t find a decent job anywhere. Most people were just trying to get by themselves, much less hire anyone else.

So finally, He went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him out into the fields to feed the pigs. Feeding pigs isn’t exactly the kind of work any son of a landowner envisions himself doing when he grows up. But, this is especially true of a Jewish family. We consider pigs to be unclean animals, one that we should steer clear of. We don’t raise them, we don’t eat them, we don’t even touch them. So you can imagine how desperate my master’s son must have been to take a job looking after a bunch of pigs! And how hungry he must have been to be longing to be fed with the pods that the pigs ate. Gross!

He finally decided that nobody wanted him. The adoring crowds no longer adored him and wanted him to leave. The man that hired him, no longer paid him and wanted him to leave. And his Father, well the kid figured, there was no way his dad would want to see him anymore either and would send him away if he ever set foot in town again.

Still, with his stomach growling, he couldn’t help but think, “How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger!” It was true. We eat well. Our master always makes sure each of our families has more than enough food. He pays us well and takes care us better than we deserve. It’s hard to imagine what his son was thinking when he left!

Well, the kid came up with what he thought was a brilliant plan. He was going to go up to his dad and apologize, to say he was sorry for being such a bonehead. But this was only part of the plan. You see, it wasn’t going to ask for full redemption. He was going to say, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”

What he was trying to say was, I know I messed up, but I will work hard to make this right. I will live in this village even though I know everyone hates me and you don’t want to talk to me. I will make enough money to pay you back. I will make it up to you. I know you can’t possibly ever see me as one of your sons, but please let me work hard to win at least a little of your favor as one of your hired laborers.

He had no idea what was going on back home because he couldn’t see what I and the rest of the villagers saw every day. Our master would spend so many of the daylight hours looking down that long road that went right through the middle of our village. As long as there was light, he would stare down that road hoping to see the silhouette of his son walking toward the village. Walking toward home. Walking toward his Father. Then one day, he got what he was hoping for.

Here came his long lost son off in the distance. Walking slowly toward the city gates. Head down, shamefully practicing the speech he wrote down on that parchment notecard, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”

When he looked up, he saw his dad running toward him as fast as he could. He wasn’t the only one that saw either. We were dumbfounded to see our Master run! Wealthy and important men walk nobly, they don’t run. They don’t hike up their robes to their knees and take off for any reason short of escaping a burning building! But here he was running toward his son. The whole village stopped to see what would happen.

I was on the road too, not sure how to respond to the son. I mean how were we to treat him? Were we to scorn him as an outcast? Should we treat him as a day laborer? Should we even let him come back into the village? Well, his Dad answered all those questions for us in no uncertain terms.

When our Master finally reached his son he embraced him and kissed him. The son let loose with his practiced speech, but he only got as far as, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” But his father wouldn’t let him finish his speech. In fact, before he even said anything to his son, he looked at me and said, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And I did. W

With the lost son now having received the kiss of reconciliation wearing the family ring, and the sandals and robe of a free man, and sitting at the head table, the whole village began to have the celebration of celebrations. We ate steak, and played loud music and danced till our feet hurt. Well, I should say, almost all of us.

The oldest son was out working hard in the field. When the sun started to set, he started walking back home, and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. He knew there wasn’t any festival planned for that day so he asked one of my friends what was going on. My friend, winded from the last dance and stepped outside for a moment told him, “Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fattened calf, because he received him back safe and sound.” My friend was shocked at his reaction. Instead of running into the house, the oldest son was angry and refused to go in. Usually the oldest son serves as his father’s right hand at a feast. He is responsible for taking care of the guests so his dad can greet all the guests and shake everyone’s hand. So we were surprised that he wouldn’t even go inside.

We were much more surprised that his dad came outside to see him, and not to berate him, but to ask him to come inside and join the festivities. But the oldest son would have none of it, he looked his father right in the eyes and said, ‘Look, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him!’

What an insult to the master. Not only was he refusing to go inside, he rebuked his father for being so nice to his brother. Instead of being proud of his dad for being such a wonderful man, he complained that he never got a goat so he could throw a party for his friends. Another barbed comment. That he would rather spend his time with his friends than with his Father who has provided for his every need!

But, I guess the hardest thing to take was that the oldest son refused to see just what a wonderful father he had. I mean it was right in front of him. His younger brother. The one who ran off. The one who deserved nothing. The one who should have been punished, was welcomed home with open arms. And here he was, the older son, still acting as if he had to earn his Father’s love by working hard in the field. He just refused to see that his Father’s love was unconditional. That it would always be there. That he didn’t need to earn it, but that it was like a gift, given to him freely.

So the oldest son just stood there staring at his Father. And the master looked back at him with love in his eyes and said, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found.’

The son had two options. He could go in and join the party or he could stay outside. He could let go of his pride and accept the truth that His Father loved him in the same way that he loved his younger brother. Or he could be stubborn and hang onto all of his good deeds and be mad that His father didn’t love him more than his little brother because he had accomplished so much more than him.

You know what he did? I’m not going to tell you. You see, that is a question you should answer for yourself. Are you going to let God be God? Are you going to let God be the giver? Are you going to let him be the one who loves you in spite of all you’ve done wrong? Are you going to celebrate with your brothers and sisters that you have such a wonderful loving Father? Or are you going to hang onto the idea that you need to work hard to earn His love and waste your time being bitter, and comparing yourself to others? Are you going to serve your master out of fear or gratitude? I know which one he wants.

Well, I should be getting on my way. You have a lovely village here. My favorite part though, is that beautiful cross. Thanks and take care.