In this sermon, the preacher focuses on the well-known story of the prodigal son from Luke's Gospel, Chapter 15. The story revolves around a father with two sons, with the younger son expressing a desire for material possessions and a good time. He eventually receives his inheritance and squanders it all, leading to a famine in the land and his desperation. The preacher draws parallels between the prodigal son's actions and the temptations faced by individuals in their pursuit of worldly pleasures, emphasizing the importance of using one's God-given strength for His glory.

The Lord Jesus Christ was the first one to relate the story, and, as always, it was told to illustrate truth. The story of the lost son forms the third part of a threefold parable. In the early portion of the program I read the well-known story from Luke's Gospel, Chapter 15. The first scene takes us to an eastern home and introduces to us a father having two sons. A few words are said about the older son toward the end of the story, but the major interest is focused upon the younger of the two sons, who expresses the desire of the average unregenerous man. His interests are altogether in material things, in earthly goods. In fact, he is not satisfied with his present possessions. His heart yearns for the things that would normally become his own at some future date, when his father divides his possessions and passes them on to his heirs. His one ambition is to have a good time, to throw off all restraint. But he is faced with a problem, for it takes money, gobs of money, to have a good time. It doesn't seem reasonable that he should fall heir to possessions when he is older and slowed down. Why not have it now? A big glittering world stretches out before him. His present home is entirely too slow and quiet. Why should he waste his precious youth days sitting around, while the gay world extends a beckoning hand? Youthful reasoning prompts him to say, Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me. His wish is granted, and in a very short time, he is seen stepping out into the big gay world, into the far country. Now let's stop for a moment and make the proper application. The young light-hearted man is a picture of every unsaved person. He was interested in the blessing, but had no time for the blesser. Just so, unsaved ones are glad to receive God's tender mercies from day to day. His sunshine and rain, his food and raiment, his protection and care. But they have very little or no time for the blesser himself. In the hour of need, they cry, Give me! Give me! But when he says, Son, give me thine heart, they pay no attention to his kind entreaty. Their eyes are blinded, and the Christian world is entirely too small. They love the vast, far country, away from all restraint, where nothing is wrong and everybody does it. But our story continues. In the far country, he wasted his substance in riotous living or living in debauchery. Wasted his substance? Yes, that's exactly what every non-Christian is doing. Take, for instance, the health and strength that God has given to you. Who is getting the value of your health and strength? Face this solemn fact, my unsaved friend. It is being wasted. Like many others, you may never realize it until God withholds this valuable possession. Living for self and for Satan is nothing short of wasting your strength. God has given you strength that it might be used for his glory, but the devil puts in his bid, and you are the one who must decide who shall have it. Many are those who, late in years, begin to realize that they have wasted their substance in unprofitable or riotous living. Back to the story again. Listen to this. And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in the land, and it began to be in want. I've often wondered how long it took him to spend all. Was it five years? Was it five months? Or five weeks? We are not told, so your guess is as good as mine. But I do know that it doesn't take a big shot very long to become a little shot. Didn't I read just recently of a couple of teenagers who grabbed a few thousand dollars besides a new fishtail Cadillac and drove to the far country of Florida, living like politicians just before the election? And if I remember correctly, in less than one week they were broke. If the prodigal in our story was true to nature, I like to guess that he was broke in less than two weeks of time. Did you see him as he left his old fogey father's house in a brand-new blue serge suit, or at least the equivalent? All the girls stopped to take a second, a third, and even a fourth look. The brokers gathered around Mr. Easy Mark to help him, or perhaps to help themselves. But take another look at him when he had spent all. His blue serge suit is hanging in the pawn shop, and he is now dressed in irregular crimp Bermuda shorts. The day of his calendar is marked Crisis, and that day will always turn up. It's a rough and rugged day, but very often it is a necessary day. I wonder if you, my patient listener, know what I'm talking about. Some of you can say, for many days I lived without God. All my interests were in having a big time. Then the day marked Crisis came. It came too soon, but it didn't come without bringing blessing into my life. The crash seemed unbearable, but it was necessary. It was a blessing in disguise. Some of my younger listeners may not have experienced this day of Crisis. You may still be riding the crest. Everything is going your way, and there may be indications that all will be well for many days. But I feel that I must warn you that every unfaithful person must meet his or her crash day. Of course, that day can be avoided if you will listen to God's voice and turn to Christ for salvation. It seems to be the common procedure that sinners will not stop on their spending tour until they get in the pinch. And sometimes that's too late, for despair stands ready to swallow them, and they go out into eternity, lost forever. Our prodigal friend has found it necessary to seek employment, feeding the unperfumed hogs. I can almost see him leaning over the trough and watching the poor table manners of the swine. Perhaps they have just come from the early morning bath, both sides evenly plastered with mud. Is my imagination going too far when I say that he saw in those smelly pigs a picture of himself? That's me. That's me. In fact, my condition is even worse, at least. They have something to eat. When a sinner is up against the wall, his misery is such that he would gladly exchange positions with one of the animal kingdom, for he knows that that animal will never be charged with deliberate disobedience. Look at that dog stretched out on the porch. He has no worries. He has no guilty conscience. He hasn't heard God's call and turned it down, as have you. But let's go on with the parable. We're coming to a brighter scene. When he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger? What does it mean, when he came to himself? It's just another way of saying he saw himself in his true condition. Before this time, he was a big bluffer. It's grand to see sinners come to themselves, so that they can see themselves in their true condition, as lost, guilty, helpless, and hopeless. I must ask you a very personal question. Have you ever confessed to God that you are a lost sinner on the broad road that leads to hell? If not, then you have never come to yourself. When you see yourself as God sees you, you will gladly lay aside all pretense and agree with God that you are lost and guilty in his sight. Now notice what follows. The prodigal says, I will arise and go to my father and say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son. Make me as one of thy hired servants. Being saved is a matter of the will, and he used it when he said, I will arise and go to my father. He abused that will in earlier days by saying, I won't stay at home. I want my own way. All the whosoever wills will be saved, and all the whosoever won'ts will be lost. But let's go a step farther, for it's one thing to say I will arise and go, and it's quite another to do it. In verse 20 of our story I read, And he arose and came to his father. Not a few unsaved people have good intentions of being saved someday. Someday I will arise and come to the Savior, for I don't want to be lost. But I'm sorry to say that many of these never get the job done. They have the best of intentions. Satan doesn't mind if you merely say, I will arise and go as long as you don't do it. The man who says I want to be saved and doesn't come to Christ is just kidding himself. As long as he doesn't come, he proves that he doesn't really want to be saved. The last scene in our story is very touching, yet full of meaning. For a loving father runs to meet him. Not an angry father who invites his son to come to the woodshed. In this Christ is illustrating our Heavenly Father's interest in lost sinners. He hates their sins, but he loves the sinner. He sent his only begotten son into the world that he might take the guilty sinner's place on Calvary's cross and thus provide forgiveness for all who will trust him as Lord and Savior. If Christ had not died for us, there could be no forgiveness. But since Christ died for us and rose again for our justification, a loving God extends mercy to the guilty one, and all who will trust Christ in his finished work are assured that they shall never perish but have everlasting life. It makes me very sad when I think of the provision that Christ has made for lost sinners, and yet in spite of all the suffering that he endured, some sinners will not enter into the good of his free salvation. The blood that he shed, the agony that he endured, was altogether in vain so far as you are concerned if you will not come to the loving Savior and claim him as your very own. I ask you to trust him and thank him this very moment, and peace will flood your soul. Think for a moment that all heaven will be affected by your decision. If you will trust him, all heaven will rejoice and be merry, for Christ is glorified every time a lost sinner trusts in him.