Thoughts on the Prodigal: Being Brothers

Re-reading this parable I see he squandered his inheritance in wasteful living, also translated “reckless, unrestrained, or foolish living.” After hitting rock bottom he realized that even the animals had it better than him, how much more the servants back on his father’s estate. He rehearses his repentant speech and makes the long trek home only to be so warmly welcomed by his father that he couldn’t even finish his speech. “Quick,” his father cries, “get the robe, get the ring!” He wants to strike while the iron is hot, before his son can think more about it or change his mind. But the problem then becomes his older brother who becomes angry at such preferential treatment that has never been shown him in quite the same way. But did he ever ask for it, one preacher asked? This brother assumes his younger brother has been hobnobbing with harlots, though we are never told that he did that. The older brother thinks the worst and refers to his brother as “your son” but not “my brother.” It’s easier to think the worst if it’s “your son” distant from him. But the father brings it back around as a reminder, referring to the younger son as “your brother.” Harder to think evil when we claim one another as brother and sister. Harder not to enter into the joy and relief of the other, harder not to rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Despite the father’s pleading, though, the older brother is walled in by injured pride, isolated and stewing in his own bitter juices. There is no way he can talk the father out of the family celebration for the one that was dead come back to life, the one that was lost now found. It was right to celebrate and we don’t know for sure that the older brother didn’t eventually swallow his pride like a pill and get happy….