One more story," said Jesus, holding up his index finger.

I often wondered if Jesus made these narratives up on the spot, or if he was relating a real event. I suspect this story may have been real. "A rich man," he continued, pulling his robes around him and taking a seat, "had two sons. The older son was a faithful, steady sort and was content with his life. He worked hard and loved his parents and the life they'd provided for him. The younger one, as it often is with siblings, was quite the opposite. He was restless, ungrateful and greedy. One day, as they were walking in the garden after dinner he said to his father, 'Father, this isn't the way I want to live. I need to travel and see the world. I need to meet new people, find new and exciting things to do and enjoy myself. I would like for you to give me my inheritance now. I find it tedious hanging around here every day waiting . . .'

"The father was hurt and grieved, but knew his son would not be happy until he'd learned life's lessons for himself. So he divided his estate between his two sons. Within a few weeks, the younger son got together all he had and set off for a distant country. After traveling for months he decided to settle down in a city near the sea with lush gardens and beautiful buildings. He purchased a villa, enjoyed the company of many beautiful women and invited prestigious people to lavish parties. He had many friends and thought, 'this is the good life'.

"Soon, though, his wealth squandered, he found himself with nothing. He went to several of his friends to borrow just enough money to get by until he was able to build back his fortune. 'What a humiliating thing to have to do, he thought.' But, they would have nothing to do with him. 'This pauper,' they would laugh 'is a fool if he thinks we'd loan him money. I wouldn't give him a goat.' "That year there was a severe famine and he began to be in desperate need. He swallowed what pride he had left and got a job feeding pigs. He was hungry and longed to fill his stomach. He would have settled for the slop the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.

"In time, his extremity forced him to come to his senses. The thought occurred to him, 'How many of my father's servants have more food than they can eat, yet here I am starving to death! I will go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have disappointed you and I have disappointed God. I am no longer worthy to be called your son, but let me become as one of your servants. Give me a job and let me work in the fields.' So he got up and began his journey back to his father, hoping for mercy.

"For all the years that he was gone, his father would go to the garden in the early evening and watch; just watch, in hopes that maybe . . .

"One evening as the sun began to fringe the clouds with gold, the old man squinted his wrinkled eyes and looked intently, yet again at the road disappearing into the sunset. He was sure he saw a silhouette walking. As his eyes adjusted, he recognized the gait. It was his son! Love exploded into excitement as he ran to the boy, threw his arms around him and kissed him again and again and again. Through sobs muffled by his father's garments, he said, 'Father, I have disappointed you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son . . .'

"But before he could finish, his father called to his wife 'come quick, our son is home! Our son is home!' Then he turned to his servants, 'Hurry! Bring the best robe I have and put it on him! Put my personal, signet ring on his finger and sandals on his feet! Bring a fat calf and slaughter it. Let's have a feast and celebrate! For this son of mine was dead and is alive again! He was lost and is found! My heart is about to burst with joy and thanksgiving!' Everything about this man was an exclamation, so happy was he at the return of his son. So preparations were made and they began to celebrate.

"Meanwhile, the older son was just coming in from the field supervising the workers. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked what was going on. 'Your brother has come home,' he replied, 'and your father is celebrating because he has him back safe. Come! Join the celebration!'

'"That stinking brother of mine is back? And my father is celebrating? I can't believe it! No! I will not be a part of that!' So in his rage, he refused to go in. His father went out and pleaded with him. But he answered his father harshly. 'Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed. Yet you never gave me even so much as a corn husk so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this . . . this son of yours who has wasted everything you gave him with whores and wild living; when he comes traipsing back, you throw a party for him!? How do you think that makes me feel?'

'"Oh, my son,' the father said with compassion, 'you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But now, we have to celebrate. Your brother was dead and is alive again; he was lost and now, he is found.'"

The officials of the synagogue were left in pensive thought. The story of this generous and gracious father seemed to touch them. They looked at Jesus and nodded their heads in reluctant assent. Had he touched something deep in their hearts? Something they couldn't process? But then, they abruptly turned and left and got back to the business of their lives.

This, without a doubt, was the most powerful and compelling story that Jesus ever told. To think that this recounting was about the two boys is to miss the heart of the story. It is about God, our Father. It is about his love and forgiveness. The story, dear friend, is about us.