This Is Us: Messy and Holy

[Opening – Family Table Talk]

Let me tell y’all something: every family’s got  that one somebody.

The cousin who never shows up on time.

The uncle who talks through the whole movie.

The auntie who shows up with a new wig, a louder opinion, and a foil-wrapped plate every single time.

And if you’re sitting there thinking, “Well I don’t know anyone like that”… well perhaps, it just might be you.

We all got family. Some of it is beautiful. Some of it is broken.

But the realest kind of family? It’s always a little messy.

[Call Back to the Series]

This series is called *This Is Us*—and let’s be clear: “us” doesn’t mean “perfect.”

We’re not curated. We’re not filtered.

We are messy. And holy. And God still chooses to call us family.

[Scripture – Luke 15:11–32]

In this parable, Jesus tells a story that hits close to home.

A son walks away. He wastes everything.

Another son stays home—but becomes bitter and self-righteous.

And then there’s the father… who never stops waiting, watching, and welcoming.

Let’s walk through it together.

Grace Finds You in the Mess

The younger son leaves home. He squanders everything.

He doesn’t come back because he had a revelation—he comes back because he ran out of money and options.

But the father doesn’t scold him. He doesn’t lecture him.

The text says he *ran to him*—hugged him, kissed him, and threw a party.

That’s the scandal of grace: it doesn’t wait for you to get clean.

It meets you in the pigpen and walks you home.

Story – Church Memory

Growing up in the church, I watched people come in broken.

After divorce. After addiction. After being gone for years.

And nobody turned them away.

Somebody would hug them. Slide them a tissue. Pray over them during altar call.

Because the church was never meant to be a museum for the perfect.

It’s a hospital for the hurting.

A house for the homecoming.

And that’s what I believe St. Matthew’s is becoming more and more:

A place where you don’t have to fake it to make it.

Where your mess doesn’t disqualify you—because grace is still enough.

You Can Be in the House and Still Far Off

Now let’s not forget the older brother.

He stayed home. He followed the rules. But when his brother came back, he got mad.

He said, “Why are we throwing *him* a party? I’ve been here this whole time!”

Here’s the truth: you can be *in* church and still far from the Father’s heart.

Sometimes the most dangerous place to hide is in plain sight.

You’re showing up. You’re serving. You’re standing. But you’re spiritually disconnected.

The Father came out for the older son too.

Grace wasn’t just for the reckless son—it was for the resentful one too.

[Congregational Pause]

Can we pause right here?

Some of us are the younger son. We’ve run, messed up, and wonder if we can ever come home.

Some of us are the older brother. We’ve been faithful, but we’re tired. We’re bitter. We’re hurting in silence.

And here’s the good news: the Father sees *both.*

He sees your effort. He sees your absence. He sees your need.

There’s Room at the Table

The table in this story isn’t for perfect people—it’s for *reunited* people.

The Father didn’t say, “Clean up first.”

He said, “Put a robe on him. Put a ring on his finger. Kill the fatted calf. Let’s celebrate.”

That’s what God does when broken people come home—He throws a party, not a probation meeting.

I want St. Matthew’s to be known as a church where the party starts when the lost come home.

[Application – Who Needs to Be Welcomed Back?]

This week, I want you to think about someone who’s been away.

From church. From God. From community.

Maybe they got hurt. Maybe they wandered. Maybe they never felt like they belonged.

Reach out. Send a text. Make a call.

Let them know: *there’s a seat waiting.*

[Closing – Preaching Cadence]

So whether you’re the prodigal or the elder sibling…

Whether you’re coming back or wondering if you should stay…

Hear this: the Father is still standing on the porch.

Still watching.

Still waiting.

Still welcoming.

Come on home.

[Prayer]

God of grace and reunions,

Thank You for seeing us in the mess and not walking away.

Thank You for being a Father who celebrates our return and invites us in.

Make St. Matthew’s a church of welcome, healing, and home.

Not just for the found—but for the still wandering.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.