Come Back to the Party, a sermon based on Jonah 3: 1 – 4: 1 and Luke 15: 1-3, 11b-32, preached on March 30, 2025

If you were reading with me in your personal Bible or your pew Bible, then you noticed that I skipped from verse 3 to verse 11 of our Gospel lesson. Do you ever wonder why the preacher would skip over verses like that? Chapter 15 of the Gospel of Luke tells three parables right in a row. I skipped the first two, the parable of the lost sheep and the lost coin, to get to the third parable: the parable of the lost sons. Jesus tells two parables to set up this third one about a father and his two sons, both of whom are lost in their own way. Now speaking of being lost, Jesus tells the three parables together because, when it comes to lost sheep, lost coins, or lost car keys, people rejoice when they find what they thought they’d lost forever, and God is no different, especially when it comes to His children. That’s the point of telling the three parables together. Together, they give us a glimpse of who God is. The love of God is like the love of a father who says, “There is nothing you could do or tell me that would make me love you any less. I just want you to come home. Come to the party I have prepared for you. Don’t let shame get in your way and certainly don’t let the resentment of your grouchy older brother weigh you down.” My friends, I hope you’ve all heard enough sermons focused on the son who left home, squandered his inheritance, and was still welcomed home that you understand the love of God. I hope and pray that you know that mostly what God does is love us because you need to know, and I need to focus on the older brother this morning. There are two lost sons in this parable, and while many sermons have focused on the son who rebelled, left home, squandered his inheritance on loose living, and out of desperation came home to receive a grace he did not expect, many of us need to hear about the resentful son, who stayed home, did what was asked of him, followed the rules, was there when his father needed him, and couldn’t take it when the rebellious son came home and received not punishment from the father but a party. The great preacher Tom Long once said that the parables of Jesus are like a stick of dynamite wrapped in a story, and the dynamite is this: Jesus is telling this parable to a whole crowd of older brothers. It’s the pharisees and scribes who are listening to Jesus here: good, church-going folks who knew and understood the resentment that the older brother felt. They were the audience. We are the audience today. Do you know what it’s like to be the older brother? I’m the oldest of three. There are enough years between the three of us that we all had different experiences being raised by George and Cathy Evans. I’ll summarize by saying that they wouldn’t let me do anything, and they would let my little sister and brother do whatever they wanted. That’s not true, but at times, it’s felt true. Parents raise each child a little bit differently because no two children are the same, so I don’t parent our daughter Lily the same way that I parent Cece. They are two different kids. They’re both beautiful, but they don’t look the same. They’re both miraculous, but in different ways. They’re both gifted, but they have different gifts. For example, Cece is an athlete. The first time she beat me in basketball, she was in 4th grade, but Lily’s not an athlete. In fact, every time I see Lily run, it looks like she’s trying it for the very first time. Instead of athletically, Lily excels socially, and she is so sweet to me. Every time we’re in the car together, she asks me specific questions about my day: whom I had lunch with, which meetings I had, what was great about my day. Cece hasn’t asked me a question about my day maybe ever, but in her heart, there is so much kindness. Twice in school, she was asked to write about her hero, and twice she picked me, and she dotes on our two dogs while Lily would leave them for dead. They’re not the same kid, so I don’t parent them the same way. Likewise, I’m not the same as my brother or my sister, so my parents have not raised us the same way either. For example, I was 6 or 7 years old, and I got mad at my mom and told her that I was running away. She said, “Let me help you pack.” I’m not kidding. She studied drama in college, and so she made it a theatrical experience. She prepared peanut butter and crackers for the road, wrapped them in a handkerchief and tied it to a stick so that I could walk down the sidewalk like a hobo about to catch a ride on a slow-moving train. She knew that I wasn’t going anywhere. All I needed to do was cool off around the corner, eating my peanut butter and crackers. Once I finished eating my provisions, I came back home. All she had to do was wait. The older brother wasn’t like that, so while the father waited for the rebellious, prodigal son to come home, the father left the party to go and ask the older brother why he wasn’t there rejoicing with everyone else, and the older brother says: For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him! He needed to say that, and so the father went out there to let him. The father knew that this son was in a kind of self-imposed exile. He’s not lost in some far-off land, but he’s still lost: lost in his anger, lost in his hurt. He’s like Jonah, disappointed that the people of Nineveh will be spared. He’s just like all of us, who sometimes feel resentment and anger over the grace of God flowing freely to people who don’t deserve it. Resentment in many ways is a greater barrier to overcome than geographic distance. To bridge that chasm of anger and resentment that the older son felt, the father went to him and listened. He let the older brother spew his anger and his hurt, and then he said: Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found. My friends, when I feel resentment, I want God to be on my side. And God is on my side, but God comes to my side to listen, and to invite me back to the party, not to take my side in the argument. God can’t take my side in the argument, for if God is like a father then know that until all His children are at the table, the party will not feel like a party to Him, and if you’re not at the party, then who is being punished? The older brother was outside of the party. Why would anyone choose resentment over a party? Is that where you are? Are you outside of the party? Are you waiting for God to take your side? I want you to know right now that God isn’t ever going to do what your resentment wants Him to do. God isn’t going to exile His children if He can help it. The party is going on, and if you’re outside all by yourself, don’t blame God. Get over yourself. Let go of your resentment and come back to the party. Outside in the cold, stewing is no way to spend today, and it’s no way to spend eternity. If you are looking forward to judgement day to finally hear that someone in your life gets what he deserves, you’re going to be disappointed, and you’re misunderstanding the grace and love of God, for in Heaven, there will be a party, and everyone is welcomed in because Heaven is not about being worthy. Heaven is all about grace. Stay out if you want to, but I implore you: Leave behind whatever would keep you from celebrating and come back to the party. Amen.