A Note from the Older Brother

What if he’s just taking advantage of us? We don’t even ask anything of him and just throw a party?

My favorite passage in Scripture is the Parable of the Prodigal Son from Luke 15. There are so many different dynamics in this story to think about - the younger son, the older son, the father, the faraway country, repentance, forgiveness, grace, and love...

I wrote this from the perspective of the older brother in the story:

As I made my way back home from another long day’s work (even harder since my younger brother recklessly took off), I caught a whiff of the unmistakable scent of my dad’s famous barbecued beef. I heard music and dancing—a party! I must have missed the party memo. There were people everywhere, so I asked someone what was going on. My stomach sank when I was told this celebration, this feast—it was all for him.

My younger brother. The one who left us, the one who broke my heart. The one who squandered everything we gave him. The one who shamed our family name.

This party was for him? I couldn’t believe how reckless this was. How do we know he’s truly sorry? How do we know he has truly changed? How do we know he has learned his lesson and isn’t just looking for a handout? Shouldn’t he have to demonstrate some responsibility? Shouldn’t he have to pay something back, to earn back some of the trust he had broken? What if he’s just taking advantage of us? We don’t even ask anything of him and just throw a party?

I couldn’t take it. But then, I heard the familiar sound of my dad’s footsteps approaching. It was as if he already knew what I was going to say. As I started with all these objections, my father stopped me…

"Son, I understand your objections. But, if our relationship were based on a system of repayments and performance, you would spend your time striving and pretending to be the son you believe I want you to be. You’d hide your real feelings, and maybe even covertly resent me for the pressure placed on you.

What I want from your brother, what I want from you, is freedom. I want a relationship with you where I accept you back, not because you’ve earned it or because you’ve proven yourself worthy, but because you are my son. If I were to bring your brother back with conditions, with all these hoops to jump through, it wouldn’t be a relationship built on love; it would just be a transaction, an impersonal business deal. And that’s not what I want for you, for him, or for anyone else.

I know this whole thing may seem like a risk, reckless even, but this kind of free forgiveness is the only way to build the kind of relationship I’m after. And while it might not always work out the way I hope, what’s the alternative? To base our relationship on terms and conditions? To be there for you only when you’re doing well, but turn my back on you when you mess up? To miss out on the possibility of something deeper?

I’d rather take the risk. I love you, too, son. Always."