Willing to Enter

“And he said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found.’”—Luke 15:31-32

The truth of the matter is—we don’t think we’re that bad of a people. Sure, we know we aren’t perfect, but who is? We’re not that bad, we tell ourselves. We’re nice, likable people, who are genuinely moral and fun to be around. We know that there is some stuff in our lives that needs fixing, but those things can be glanced over in light of the other good things we do—and so the thought goes. And while such thoughts sound reasonable to us, they aren’t true. They sound reasonable and even good because we want to believe them. To believe something else—that we’re bad—doesn’t help us in our day-to-day lives. We need something to feel good about, after all. This world is bad enough as it is, it’s better to find something good to think about rather than think that I’m a sinner in need of a Savior.

Such thoughts are commonplace in our postmodern, relativistic world where everything is tolerable save intolerance. We’ve become the sole arbiters of truth, determiners of our own fate, masters of our own destiny—or so we think. Reality is far different. At our core, we are lost, lawbreakers who are in rebellion toward God. And this usually takes one of two tacts—the selfish or self-righteous.

Consider for a moment the parable of the prodigal son in Luke 15:11-32. Most are familiar with the story—the prodigal asks for his inheritance from his father, goes off to a foreign land and squanders it in worldly living. After a while, the money dries up, he comes to the end of himself and returns home hat in hand, repentant and ready to do whatever his father asks of him. And then there is the older brother. He often gets overlooked in the story as his prodigal brother’s foolishness gets most of the press. He returns home to see his father throwing his rebellious-now-repentant brother the party of the year. Indignant he refuses to join in the festivities choosing to stay on the fringes of the celebration while castigating his father for celebrating the return of the rebel. He claims to be the victim of a great injustice because his father trumpets the return of the rebellious while he received nothing for staying home and towing the line.

The story is best understood by examining the three principle characters: the prodigal, his older brother, and the father. In the story, the father is the active member. He gives to both his sons, loves them, and wants them both to participate in the joy of salvation. The prodigal is fairly obvious to us—he is the selfish son who rebelled and went after the things of the world until he came to the end of himself and returned repentant. However, it is the older son that needs to be examined more closely. He is how many of us see ourselves—obedient, well mannered, submissive, and non-rebellious. However, his outward obedience is a mask for a self-righteous disposition. He doesn’t care about the father or the son, but only what each one can give to him. His refusal to enter into the celebration, as well as his castigation of his father, only reveals the depth of his self-righteous spirit.

In the middle of the entire thing is the father. He is the one who gave the son what he wanted, waited longingly for the son to return and ran to him when he saw him afar off. He is also the father who goes and pleads for the old brother to join in the festivities and the story ends with a deliberate stop and no resolution—does the older brother enter in? Or does he stay outside?

Which are you in the story—the selfish or the self-righteous? Both are lost, but only one demonstrates repentance. The prodigal came home repentant, but the older brother waits at the door—will he enter in? How about you? Are you in the party or waiting to enter in? Don’t wait—God’s mercy will not be extended forever. Amen.

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