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This would not have happened without my parents extending the standing offer that I could always come home. Neither does our salvation happen without our Father making the first move. God could have nursed the grudge and piled on the punishment. But his love for us was so immense that he was willing to do anything to make sure we got home.

The arrival of the baby Jesus is an offer to come home in every sense of the word. His birth, death, and resurrection offer the ultimate second chance to accomplish the ultimate homecoming. This is why the parable of the Prodigal Son should take its rightful place as a Christmas story.

Growing into the Role of the "Father"

As the holiday music plays and your family prepares for Christmas, what kind of gathering do you anticipate? Will everyone be there? More to the point, is someone going to be absent that should be there but is deterred by the barriers of ghosts, walls, feuds, misunderstandings, shame, or just plain stubborn pride? As Christmas approaches, which role in the drama of the Prodigal Son are you going to play?

You may be the younger brother, whose words were "give me." The second he demanded his share of the estate he became homeless. His grasping nature was a barrier to his homecoming and had to be utterly destroyed before he could go home.

You may be the older brother, keeping score and targeting the member of the family who didn't play by the rules. "Home for Christmas? I don't want to see him come home after what he did," you say.

Or you may be the patient and hopeful father, who is ruled by the force of love and will not be dissuaded by the waywardness or vengefulness of others. The incandescent power of your hope far outshines the hurt of past offenses.

This parable resonates so powerfully because we spend at least a part of our lives playing each role in the tale. But, as Henri Nouwen reminds us in his wondrous little book The Return of the Prodigal Son, our progress as Christians requires that we eventually grow into the role of the father. This, too, requires a "coming to our senses." It also requires that we embrace the number one objective of the father: to help people find their way home.

How do we do this? We realize that we do indeed have a home, whether physical or spiritual (the church). We have plenty of food, including spiritual food, to share with the many homeless people on the brink of starvation. How willing are we to invite them into our homes—especially the ones with whom we have differences?

In the father role, we can give the gift of attention. In the parable, the father could see the wayward son from a long distance. Why? He was intently looking for him and even expecting him to return. We who are the redeemed can have that same attitude toward those from whom we are estranged.

What happened when the son came home, both in the parable and in my own experience? In both cases, it sparked the party of a lifetime. Food, gifts, and a celebration were arranged at the drop of a hat to mark the transformation of a life from dead to alive and from lost to found.

Make the First Move

There can be no party without the one thing that is required of those in the father role: initiative. So many differences within families do not move toward healing because we wait for the other person to relent and make the first move. The situation never changes because we keep telling the old stories and picking at the old wounds.