The Prodigal Son has the makings of a soap opera—selfishness, blatant disrespect, wanton dissipation, jealousy, resentment, and alienation. No wonder Scripture scholar Luke Timothy Johnson calls this parable a virtual novella.

We know the story especially for the surprising and magnanimous mercy of the father. Preempting the son’s apology, he forgives without hesitation and orders a feast to celebrate, “. . . because this son of mine was dead and has come to life again.”

But the parable also contrasts the mercy of the father with the resentment of his elder son. The firstborn’s anger seems understandable. After all, his sibling has been outrageously selfish and disrespectful. But the older brother has nursed his resentment into a bitter grudge. No distant region for him—he has alienated himself from father and family without leaving home.

As with the prodigal son, the father comes out to meet the elder son. He reasons with him and assures him of his place and privilege. The father once more says that the younger son “has come to life again.” And in this repetition the father also implies an invitation.

In classic soap opera fashion, the parable leaves us hanging. The younger has admitted his sins and returned to rebuild his life. Can the elder son admit his own failings and reconcile with his brother and his father? We are left to wonder. And, in wondering, to consider our own behaviors. For the invitation to “come to life again” is meant for each of us.