The Older Brother

“We may start as younger sons, but when we come to Christ we become older brothers.” – Pastor Adam

Our pastor is spending three weeks teaching us the story of the prodigal son from the gospel of Luke. Last week from the vantage point of the younger son (the prodigal son), this week from the older brothers perspective and next week from the point of view of the father.

In summary, the prodigal son takes his portion of the family’s wealth from the father, squanders it in the city and has to come home begging to work as a hired servant back at the family estate. Instead, the father (Jesus) sees him coming, runs out to greet him (the sinner) and throws a party with a fattened calf. The older brother (the faithful) is livid—here he was, faithful all this time but the father never threw him a party or gave him even a small goat to celebrate with his friends.

Our pastor does a really good job setting this up and delivering the message. He included context about the honor-shame culture that made the father’s grace in response to both sons just out of this world (reconciling with one, being patient with the other), and explains that with the shame the younger brother caused the family the job of the older brother was to serve as the one to reconcile the father and younger son (a role that he abdicated). He also put the story in context. It’s placed in the gospel after a group of faithful are complaining about Jesus keeping the company of tax collectors and sinners. One of the other necessary things our paster pointed out is that Jesus leaves the story open ended—it’s for those who hear it to finish; how will the faithful respond? Do they hear what he is saying?

I mean, I get it. 

The older son is feeling like he did good and “deserves” more or a different treatment because of his obedience. But Jesus works in ways that a person who lived a good and faithful life could be at age 70 and next to them could be a 70-year-old “sinner” who comes to Christ and guess what? Same love. That’s the God we have. It’s incredibly humbling. We don’t deserve God’s love but we get it freely. It’s because of His faithfulness that we are saved, not ours. His love is independent of our actions. 

The other piece I was reminded of was specifically about coming to Jesus. Because, if we are to be the older brother, how we do the work of reconciliation matters. I need to thank God for the people in my life because he knew how to bring me home. As much as my heart “wasn’t open” to Jesus in my early twenties (it was, I just buried it) there were always a couple people that were just living the life and testing the waters around me—I can recall conversations I entertained a decade before I crossed the line of faith from key professors, mentors and friends. Even once I started becoming open to the idea I was a little scared and wary of what I thought I knew from and about the christian community. The delivery during my childhood didn’t stick and I had a string of stubborn assumptions about what life would be like around christians. I wrote about it in 2017 and then ended up in River Falls in the summer of 2019. Like I said, I need to thank God for this. I have a friend here who would tell me something along the lines of, “I’m not sure how or when but you’ll come to Jesus and it will change your life.” And then he let me nod/laugh it off without a second glance and I’d go about my day still being loved and accepted in our group. A cool thing about liking big idea conversations is that you can dig into them whether you believe them or not, so I had that going for me. 

I was speaking with a couple at church yesterday and the wife told me she was 100% German, and went on to describe how the German are known to be stubborn people. I can get behind this. I’m part german (Klein) and I think I have that in me. If my group of people would have shown me less love and affection because I didn’t accept Jesus I would have left. If you would have told me I needed to repent to save my soul and to be welcomed into the kingdom I would have left. If you would have quoted scripture to me without a conversation I would have left—you would have been in a category of judgment and there was no room for that in my life. There was one instance where a friend made a comment about my heart not being complete because I wasn’t a child of God and I remember playing it off but it pushed me away from opening a conversation about how curious I was about God because although the intent was harmless it felt like I wasn’t good enough and that this person was superior (stubborn). We talked about that moment this summer and it was a solid conversation. 

On top of that I was feeling like such an imposter. I remember the complete reservation I had saying I accepted Jesus. How in the world could one day all of a sudden I decide I believe the out out this world Truth and that’s just it? I did what I do—I vetted my truth in it. I sat with it on my own—which was totally unnecessary—to make sure I was ready and really certain I wanted to entertain the convo. I was nervous to put down a stake and then be like, just kidding I’m still struggling with this. But that fear was all about the human and community stuff—I felt like I needed to be cleaned up first, do more good things first, or I wouldn’t be accepted (not Truth). That was me being more concerned with the world’s and my judgement. I felt like I’d wake up one day and just be sure committing my life to Jesus was the right thing. Not true—it’s a practice and a struggle. 

But when I did cross the line of faith, it was like I was weightless. It was a really beautiful thing. I had read The Barbarian Way by Erwin McManus on a flight to and from Texas and in a quick moment of courage I opened up my heart to a bursting conversation on the ride back from the airport and man I had SO many questions and I was so into it and so relieved. It was like everything everyone in my group could have told me but if they tried it would have ruined it. Jesus knew what I needed and that was the tipping point to open the necessary dialogue. 

So knowing this, if it’s the work of the older brother to reconcile then we need to know our audience well. We have to love people even if they don’t want to accept Jesus because they are still loved by Jesus. We’re inviting friends and non-friends from all kinds of lives into ours, and back to Christ. Hearts have to be open to change before that can happen, and the only way for that to happen is trust and connecting as faulty humans. If we’re pushy and superior? That’s a wall to people with questions. I feel like I’m still experiencing welcome in new church spaces as the prodigal son, but I am the older brother now. If you’re a friend or stranger with a different perspective, belief system or no belief at all you’re still welcome to my table. I pray to God to keep that humility knowing exactly where I came from, and I pray to God that it becomes clear to me quickly when I am not. 

I enjoy noting how my mind criss-crosses the secular and nonsecular world. In church I wrote this note: HUMANIZE PEOPLE. LOWER THE DIVISIONS. INVITE. I was reminded of an idea from Brene Brown’s book, Braving the Wilderness, that it’s hard to hate people up close. Jesus tells us, go and make disciples. The story tells us, go and do the work of reconciliation. 

Here are some bullet points I wrote from the sermon. The younger son sermons is linked, here. I will link yesterday’s sermon when it’s updated.

• Jesus’ work is the work of reconciliation with and through others. He has come to bring life to all people. 
• It’s a story for the faithful, challenging the response to Jesus’ work as he welcomes prodigals. 
• We may start as the prodigal/younger son, but when we come to Christ we become older brothers.
• Come in first and then get cleaned up—what “icky” people are we not inviting into our house?
• We’re called to love and meet and bring in the wrong people. 

Much love, my friends. 

//GLK