Introduction
If you’ve ever had someone walk out of your life—slam the door, burn the bridge, and disappear—you know something about the ache of the father in Jesus’ story.
And if you’ve ever been hurt and felt that hot rush of anger rise inside you when the offender suddenly wanted back in, well, you also know something about the older brother.
Jesus’ parable of the Prodigal Son is one of the best-known stories in the Bible—but it’s also one of the most challenging to live.
It’s about sin and repentance, yes, but even more, it’s about forgiveness—God’s forgiveness toward us and our willingness—or unwillingness—to forgive each other.
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A Modern Prodigal Story
Ten years ago, a young girl ran away from home. She left her parents, her brother, her school, and her friends. She wanted freedom. She wanted her own rules. So she walked away from everyone who loved her.
Her parents had a choice.
They could shut the door and say, “She made her bed—let her lie in it.”
Or they could keep praying, keep hoping, keep watching the road.
And they did just that. Year after year, they waited.
When hope flickered, they went back to this parable—the story of the prodigal son. It became their anchor.
Five long years later, that girl realized the one she was living with didn’t love her. So she packed her bag and came home. And when she did, her parents met her at the door with open arms.
The story of Luke 15 came alive—except for one difference:
In this real-life story, the brother didn’t sulk. He celebrated.
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The Father’s Heart
The father in the parable represents God.
He’s more ready to forgive than to condemn.
He runs toward us when we turn around.
That’s the kind of God we serve—a God who doesn’t wait for you to crawl home; He comes running down the road. He doesn’t wait for explanations or excuses; He throws His arms around you and says, “Welcome home.”
Think about it: before the son could even finish his confession, the father interrupted him with grace.
“Quick! Bring the best robe. Put a ring on his finger. Sandals on his feet. Kill the fatted calf! My son who was dead is alive again!”
That’s not just mercy—that’s joy exploding in forgiveness.
God celebrates restoration more than He ever punishes rebellion.
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The Older Brother Syndrome
But not everyone at the party was smiling.
The older brother stood outside with his arms crossed.
He heard the music, smelled the food, and saw the dancing—and he was furious.
“All these years,” he said, “I’ve served you. I never disobeyed. And you never gave me even a goat. But when that son of yours—not ‘my brother’—comes back, you throw a party?”
We know that feeling, don’t we?
We’ve all been that older brother at some point.
Someone hurt us. Someone betrayed us. And when they come back, part of us wants them to pay.
We call it justice. God calls it unforgiveness.
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What Forgiveness Costs
Forgiveness always costs something.
When the father forgave his son, it cost him half his wealth and all his pride.
When Jesus forgave us, it cost Him His life.
So yes, forgiveness is costly—but withholding it costs even more.
Bitterness locks you out of your own party.
While everyone else is dancing, you’re standing outside with your arms folded, nursing a wound that God is willing to heal.
Forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. It doesn’t mean pretending nothing happened. It means you stop letting the wound define your future.
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The Fear of Forgiveness
Sometimes we hesitate to forgive because we’re afraid—
Afraid we’ll be hurt again,
Afraid we’ll lose respect,
Afraid they’ll think what they did doesn’t matter.
But look at what the father told his older son:
“Son, you are always with me, and everything I have is yours.”
He wasn’t losing anything by forgiving his brother.
And neither do we.
When you forgive, you don’t lose—you gain.
You gain peace. You gain freedom. You gain the joy of being like your Father in heaven.
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The Missing Ending
Jesus ends the story with a question mark.
We never find out whether the older brother went in or stayed outside.
That’s intentional—because the story isn’t over.
We are the ones who finish it.
Every time someone hurts you, every time you’re asked to forgive, God hands you the pen and says, “Write your ending. Will you go in—or stay out?”
Forgiveness isn’t a feeling. It’s a decision.
It’s a choice.
And Jesus says plainly, “If you forgive others, your heavenly Father will forgive you.”
That’s the gospel in miniature—God forgives us, and then gives us the privilege of passing it on.
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Conclusion
Maybe today you’re the prodigal—you’ve wandered far and you’re wondering if the Father still wants you.
He does. He’s watching the road right now. He’s waiting for you to take one step toward home.
Or maybe you’re the older brother—you’ve been hurt, and your heart has grown hard. The party’s going on, but you can’t hear the music anymore.
The Father is pleading with you, too: “Come in. Let go of your anger. Join the celebration.”
Forgiveness is not automatic.
It’s a choice.
And today, that choice is yours.
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Closing Line
When we choose to forgive, we open the door to God’s joy,
we walk into His party of grace,
and we prove that love is stronger than sin.
The choice is ours.
Amen.
