There is an unspoken understanding, especially among older Christians, that it’s OK to be a hellion and an extravagant sinner—as long as you are an outsider, a pagan, one who has never served Christ. But if you have served Christ and then you act in a way that is unbecoming or that makes the rest of us look bad, you’re going down, baby. And it’s going to remain on your permanent record. You can be “bad-to-the-bone” as a heathen outsider and be forgiven. Hey, we will probably ask you to testify from the platform about it—but not after being a connected insider. If you knew the ropes or held some official position, and then go prodigal, you need to kiss your acceptance good-bye.

But I don’t think Jesus holds the same opinion.

The thing many overlook in Jesus’ story of the prodigal son is that the son held a prominent position in his father’s house before he went AWOL. He wasn’t an outsider, but a connected insider. He knew the ropes. He understood the inheritance he had and the position he held. Yet, in a blaze of utter stupidity, he grabs what he can and becomes unconscionable—he goes prodigal, which means he became rash and extravagantly wasteful.

After he wasted everything he had on all the wrong things, the Bible says, “he came to his senses” (Luke 15:17). In other words, he realized he was an idiot wrapped up in a moron. After thinking it through, he set off to his father’s house to humble himself and to take whatever punishment the father would dole out. But an angry father didn’t meet him. Instead, he was surprised by a father’s boundless love and tender embrace. Jesus used the father in this story to represent his Father, God.

The prodigal story isn’t a message of a pagan coming into the family of God; it is a message of a family member returning home after being completely rebellious and patently destructive. Jesus said this guy wandered into a “distant country” and ended up “feeding pigs.” Being in a “distant country” symbolized being estranged from God’s kingdom and from God himself. Feeding the pigs signified that this young man had hit rock bottom. Pigs were detestable to the Jews. These minor elements of the story communicated to Jesus’ listeners that this guy was a lost cause. As he was telling it, they presumed the prodigal’s sin was unpardonable.

But it wasn’t.

Not only was his sin pardonable, Jesus reveals that the father was actively watching for and anticipating the deadbeat son’s return. And once he sees him from a distance, the father bolts toward him and embraces and kisses him—pig stink and all.

The message is clear: Fallen people everywhere, those of you who once did well in the faith but somehow lost your way; those leading destructive, wasteful lives in “foreign countries,” estranged from the church and from God—listen: the Father wants you home. And the instant you turn toward “Father’s house,” you will go from being a prodigal to becoming a pilgrim. God will run to meet you and to hug and kiss you—even though you may still have the smell and grime of swine on you.

A DARKER TALE

But there is another side to the prodigal story, a much darker side. It has to do with the elder brother. The prodigal’s elder brother was not at all excited about his younger brother’s return. In fact, he was mad about it. Jesus said he “refused” to take part in celebrating his brother’s return and argued that his father was being too lenient..

There are “elder brothers” all over the church. These guys and gals are the ones who, like the elder brother in the prodigal story, are disciplined, diligent, and all-around model saints. They wouldn’t dare demand anything from the Father. But, also like the elder brother, they have an agenda: performance. That’s what they believe the economy of the kingdom of God is all about. They work to earn God’s blessing and are quick to jump on anyone who might be trying to secure blessing without working for it.

Though the elder brother refused to ask for his inheritance, he kept working hard—and cross-fingered—hoping to get the father to notice and reward him. When he sees his father celebrating the loser prodigal with a fatted calf and a party, he is angered. He says to the father, “Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!” (Luke 15:29–30).

The elder brother completely misunderstood how things work in Father’s house. The father responds, “My son, you are always with me, and everything I have is yours.” The truth was, the elder brother never had to “slave” to earn what was in his father’s house—everything there already belonged to him. His “right” to the goods of Father’s house was based on the father’s love, not on his performance. It, too, was grace.

When those of us who are older in Christ see the failure of others and God’s unwarranted and incautious restoration of them, His kindness, forgiveness, and love often seem irrational and even unfair. We don’t understand the Father. How different this story would have read if the prodigal had run into the elder brother first. I am certain he would have turned back to the pigs.

I have witnessed folks being written off by the elder brothers. And for good reason—the prodigals acted improperly and hurt their fellow believers. And now they are labeled. Labels are always paralyzing.

Has anyone ever labeled you a “misfit” or “rebellious” or “inconsistent” or “untrustworthy”? If so, you probably agree that it wouldn’t be so bad if the labels were said to your face and the accuser actually commits to helping you work through your stuff. But more often than not, the labels are a kind of insulation between you and others. They are reminiscent of the “kick me” signs people used to stick on your back without your knowledge in grade school. People may be courteous to your face, but you can see it in their eyes—something’s up. And when you walk away, you know you have about as much a chance of belonging as a snowball in hell. It’s easy to think about going back to the pigs under such conditions. At least pigs don’t reject you.

But don’t let the elder brothers keep you from running to the Father and coming back home. Let God deal with those folks. You just head into the house and enjoy the party (I personally love “fatted-calf”). God has your back here.