We are going through Tim Keller’s excellent book The Prodigal God in our Wednesday night adult group at church. Keller is incredibly challenging. I love his style.

Our views on the parable of the prodigal tend to focus on the younger son. Who can’t get into that? We write songs about it. (“When God Ran.” I LOVE that song!)

But the point of the parable, of course, is the elder brother. Jesus is telling this series of stories to trap the Pharisees. The response of the elder brother is the climax of these little episodes.

Keller points out that both sons are lost. The younger brother is all about “self-discovery.” That’s an obvious screw up. Go off and “find yourself” and you end up in the pig trough. No brainer.

But the elder son? His sin? Moral conformity. He had kept all the rules. He was therefore entitled to the father’s blessing.

To the point: Both sons are lost, but both sons are loved. Both sons used their father to get his stuff. They didn’t care about the father himself. Yet, at the end, it’s the younger brother who is “saved.” The elder brother, at least where Jesus leaves it, stays lost.

Ouch.

I am the elder brother. I’ve been the moral conformist doing everything right pretty much all my life. I am owed. I do it right, God ponies up. It’s how the game is played.

But it’s not. I’m trying to “own” God. I’m trying to control him. I am trying to save myself in this scenario.

I don’t have to keep the elder brother’s attitude. I can come into the house. I have come into the house. But there is still the tendency to drift back into that elder brother attitude. I’m doing what’s right and why isn’t God paying any attention to it?

The elder brother syndrome was in my blood. I am thankful for the “blood transfusion.” I was wrong. But I am loved.