The Older Brother’s Struggle

Luke 15:11-32

Sermon by Dan Schrock

March 14, 2010

Lent 4

¹¹ Then Jesus said, “There was a man who had two sons. ¹²The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’ So he divided his property between them. ¹³A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. ¹⁴When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. ¹⁵So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. ¹⁶He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. ¹⁷But when he came to himself he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! ¹⁸I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; ¹⁹I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”’ ²⁰So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. ²¹Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ ²²But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. ²³And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; ²⁴for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate.

²⁵ “Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. ²⁶He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. ²⁷He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.’ ²⁸Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. ²⁹But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. ³⁰But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’ ³¹Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. ³²But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’” (NRSV)

I am the oldest son in Jesus’ parable of the prodigal son, and I’m here this morning to give you my side of the story.

I hope you can empathize with my point of view since some of you are the oldest son or oldest daughter in your family. Even if you’re not the oldest child in your family, maybe you have a little of the oldest child syndrome running around inside of you.

We oldest children tend to be responsible people. While we were growing up, our parents had high expectations that we would keep our rooms clean, hang up our clothes, and get good grades in school. They gave us jobs around the house so that we learned how to be on time and work diligently. They urged us to save our money, and when we decided to buy something, they helped us make wise purchases.

Since we want to please our parents, we oldest children usually live by the rules. We grow up to be responsible members of society. We promise only what we can do; and we do all that we promise. We pay our taxes on time and in full. We repay whatever money we borrow. We want other people to treat us fairly, just as we try to treat other people fairly. We have a keen sense of justice. I’m not saying that younger children can’t be these things too, but I am saying that oldest children are often more this way.

I’m the oldest child of the father in the parable. I’m not going to stand here and tell you I was always a perfect son, because I wasn’t. But I have been a very good son. When my father told me to get up early in the morning and let the sheep out of the fold into the pasture, I did it; and in the evening, knowing my father would want it, I called the sheep from the pasture back into the fold for the night. Every spring when he announced it was time to shear the sheep, I did it. When he told me to help him plant barley in the fields, I did not complain; and when we had to harvest it, I did not grumble. When we pressed olives for oil, I willingly put my full strength into operating the press. Moreover, I meticulously kept the financial records of how much we owed to whom, and of how much others owed us.

As if all this were not enough, I’ve attended Sabbath services every weekend and served my turn on the synagogue council. I’ve tried to do what God wants. For example, I did not have sex before my wife and I got married. Although I’ve been very busy on the family farm, I still find time to study Torah—one of my favorite scrolls is Proverbs, and I’m thinking about buying my own copy so I can read a little bit of it every morning at home without having to go to the synagogue and using the communal copy. Oh, how I treasure the scroll of Proverbs! One of my favorite passages is this one, just a couple of turns inside the scroll:

Listen, children, to a father’s instruction, and be attentive, that you may gain insight; for I give you good precepts: do not forsake my teaching. When I was a son with my father, tender, and my mother’s favorite, he taught me, and said to me, “Let your heart hold fast my words; keep my commandments, and live. Get wisdom; get insight: do not forget, nor turn away from the words of my mouth. Do not forsake her, and she will keep you; love her, and she will guard you. The beginning of wisdom is this: Get wisdom, and whatever else you get, get insight. Prize her highly, and she will exalt you; she will honor you if you embrace her. She will place on your head a fair garland; she will bestow on you a beautiful crown.” (Proverbs 4:1-9, NRSV)

Those words describe me. But if you want my opinion, my brother is a scoundrel. There—I’ve used that word which is so distasteful to my lips—the word “brother.” He is so unlike me that he might as well have been born in another family to another set of parents. Where I am responsible, he is irresponsible. Where I am fiscally conservative, he is fiscally profligate. Where I am wise, he is a fool. Where I make careful decisions that later turn out to be solid, he makes snap decisions in the moment that he later regrets. Where I go to synagogue every Sabbath, he goes when he feels like it, which is rarely more than once a month (and yes, I keep track of how often he goes!).

When I think of my brother, I think of sayings from Proverbs. Let me read some for you:

“A fool despises a parent’s instruction” (15:5).

“A babbling fool will come to ruin” (10:8).

“Doing wrong is like sport to a fool” (10:23).

“The fool throws off restraint and is careless” (14:16).

That’s my brother—a fool. Let me count the ways. First, he insulted our father by asking for his share of the inheritance while father was still alive! I was there when it happened, and I saw father blanch at the insult to his dignity. But father inexplicably swallowed the humiliation and gave that fool what he wanted. Second, once my brother had the money, he took off on a pleasure trip where he wasted it all on wine and loose women. Why didn’t he have the sense to invest it, or at least to save it? What was he thinking? Well, obviously he wasn’t thinking at all. Third, after wasting that good money he had the gall—the outrageous insolence—to come back home and plead with father for food to eat and a place to sleep.

And do you know what father did? The man threw a party! He ordered the kitchen to cook the best food we had. He hired a live band. He organized a dance. He took out the most expensive clothes in the closet. He even hugged that fool of a brother and kissed him! Ugh!

Maybe you can understand my lament, because what father did is not fair! Father was not operating by the standards of justice and righteousness. I was deeply offended by this turn of events because my inner standards of right and wrong were shaken. It took me a long time to process this, to wrap my mind around how father responded.

But here’s what happened to me. After praying about it, talking with other wise people in the village, and searching my own heart, I have come to realize 4 things.

First, I now see in a deeper way that for as long as he lives, my father’s money is still his money. One day it will be my money; but until then, it’s father’s money and he can do with it whatever he believes to be the best. That’s the rule: it’s his money until he dies. Until then, it’s not my money.

Second, father is still the head of the household; and as long as he lives, he remains the head of the household. He’s responsible to make the important decisions. So if he wants to throw a party for that fool of a brother, then he can do it. It’s a matter between my father and my brother, and I should not interfere. I must continue to respect father’s decisions.

Third, I accept that my brother is once again a member of our household. That means he eats at our table and sleeps on one of our straw mats. Fair enough—I don’t really want my brother to starve. But ever since my brother came back to the household, he has had to work, just as the rest of us work. He has had to take his turn picking olives, threshing barley, watching the sheep, and so on. To his credit, my brother has been working on the farm with remarkable diligence ever since he came back. It seems that something about him has changed, because he’s displaying more willingness to work than I ever saw before.

However—and this is my fourth realization—my brother will never again receive another inheritance. He chose to waste the inheritance he had, and now cannot get another one. Yes, father butchered the fatted calf for him when he came slinking back home, but I want you to notice that in the parable father never promised to give my brother another inheritance. In fact, father clarified to me that the remainder of his possessions and cash is my inheritance—father said so himself at the end of the parable: “all that is mine is yours” (v. 31).

So you see, there is justice and fairness in the world, as I have believed all along. But I am learning that there is also mercy in the world; and by his actions, my father—our father—has helped me to see that.