Someone said that many of Jesus’ parables have three main characters or groups of characters. This is certainly true of the Parable of the Prodigal Son. First there is the younger son, who takes off with his share of the inheritance, squanders it, and then comes crawling back. Secondly, there is the older son, who stayed at home. He did everything he was asked to do. He is the one who resents his father’s extraordinary welcome home to his philandering sibling. And finally there is the father, who gave the younger son all he asked for, knowing that he would lose it all. Yet he welcomed him home in a memorable gesture of forgiving love. 

All three of these are depicted in the painting by Rembrandt entitled “The Return of the Prodigal Son.” Clearly the older son is in the painting. He is at the far right. If you look closely you can see the resemblance to the father—including the beard. He is dressed richly, like the father—a very similar kind of cloak, lots of jewelry, and other ornate trappings. This is the elder brother. 

Now it is clear that this is not the way Jesus told the story. In a sense the painting is un-Biblical. Jesus said the elder brother was out in the fields, doing his chores. He heard the sound of merriment and dancing, so he asked a servant what was going on. The servant informed him that his younger brother had returned and his father had thrown a party. The older brother refuses to go into the party. The father comes out and pleads with him, and we do not know the results of that particular scene. 

Rembrandt shows the older brother differently. He shows something of the inner drama of the soul. The older brother is off to one side in the painting, watching closely. His hands are clasped tightly together, as though to hold in his own anger and resentment. There is a dark space between the father and younger son, and the older son—almost a chasm of black. The light from the father’s face flows through his whole body. The light from the older son is cold and constricted. In a real sense, the older son simply does not know what to say. 

It reminds me of a letter I read from Ann Landers some years ago. A woman who was about to get married wrote this letter:

 Dear Ann: I need your help in deciding what to do. My brother graduated from Kentucky University with honors in electrical engineering. My father was convicted of rape and spent 20 years in prison. My mother was found guilty of embezzlement and spent 6 years in prison. My grandfather was caught stealing a horse out in west Texas and was lynched by an angry mob. And my uncle has been in and out of jail many times for public drunkenness. What I need to know, Ann, is whether or not I should tell my fiancé about my brother at Kentucky University?  

Rembrandt shows the deep isolation here in the part of the older brother. It is as though there was a black space between them. Is it anger, or jealousy? Is he very put out? Is he full of himself? Is he rigid? Is he resentful? Is he unhappy? A Sunday school teacher was teaching the children the story of the Prodigal Son. She asked the children, “Who was most upset when the Prodigal Son returned?” One child raised his hand and said, “I think it was the fatted calf.” 

Perhaps the older son wishes he had some of that closeness he now seeks between his father and his brother. But he is in bondage to the rules. He has a very sure inner anguish. He nurses his anger. That’s the inner trauma of the soul here. 

Maybe it’s something like the “oldest child syndrome.” Henri Nouwen tells his own story of being the oldest child in his book on the painting. Listen to what he says.

I did all the proper things, mostly complying with the agendas set by the many parental figures in my life… but at the same time I often wondered why I didn’t have the courage to “run away” as the younger son did.

It is strange to say this, but, deep in my heart, I have known the feeling of envy toward the wayward son. It is the emotion that arises when I see my friends having a good time doing all sorts of things that I condemn. I called their behavior reprehensible or even immoral, but at the same time I often wondered why I didn’t have the nerve to do some of it or all of it myself.[i] 

How many of you are the oldest child in your family? I am. I was/am the oldest of three. I stayed at home. I never rebelled very much. I went to church. I became president of the youth group. I sang in the choir. I was not the perfect son, but I guess I was close. (Yeah, right!) 

My youngest sister was not a prodigal, but she was far more spirited than I. She had lots of friends. She was socially active. She seemingly was favored by my mother. She was the one who was forgiven by my dad when she wrecked the car. When she got married, she and her husband went off to Viet Nam for several years and then to several countries in Africa. Mother and Dad followed her—to Viet Nam and then to Africa. When she finally came back to the United States she settled in a cabin in the woods in central North Carolina. When my father died, where did my mother decide to settle? We took her on tours of Asbury Heights and Friendship Village here in Pittsburgh. But she settled about a half-hour from the cabin in the woods in central North Carolina! My other sister and I could always say to my mother of her, “You always loved her best!” 

The story of the older brother is a story of someone who felt slighted, who felt resentment. It was as though he was saying, “How can you be so gracious, Father, after what he did—after he took his share of the inheritance and blew it?” 

What do we learn from this part of the parable? What is Jesus teaching? What is Rembrandt saying about the teaching? 

SEEING THE WORLD IN BLACK AND WHITE 

First of all, God does not see the world in black and white. That’s a hard lesson for us to learn. We want things to be right or wrong, good or bad, fair or unfair, just or unjust. If you live right, the reward is heaven. If you live wrong, well, the penalty is probably hell. 

The teaching in this parable is that God does not necessarily see things that way. Jesus did not see things that way. Jesus was not the hardest on the adulterers or the thieves or the cheats. He was the hardest on the Pharisees, who saw everything as black or white. 

We tend to want to see the world as good and evil. I read a story of the lead hijacker in the 9-11 attacks on the World Trade Centers. His name was Mohammed Atta. He perpetrated a horrendous evil and additionally a wasted suicide. But in a diary that he left behind he had written these words: “God, I trust you. I lay myself in your hands. Allow me to glorify you in every possible way. Purify my heart and clean it from all earthly matters.” After writing these words down, he flies a plane into the World Trade Center. What is that about? How does God receive his prayer? How does God receive that life? 

Jesus says God wants to welcome home the wayward and the lost, and God wants to welcome home the faithful and the steady. God wants all of His children home! 

Jesus reveals a God who is incredibly generous. I just finished reading a new book by Brian McLaren called A Generous Orthodoxy.[ii] He makes the case that God is amazing in His grace and in His acceptance. 

God wants the younger and the elder brother to come home. 

THE RESENTMENT IS HARD TO OVERCOME 

Another thing revealed in this parable is that resentment is hard to overcome. It’s hard to give up—hard to surrender to God. It may be easier to find grace from a dissipated life of wild living than from a life of pent-up resentment. It may be easier to find forgiveness when we’ve really blown it than from a nagging resentment that goes on and on. 

Henri Nouwen writes this about the older brother.

 It is not so difficult to sympathize with a lustful character who indulges in the pleasures of the world, then repents, returns home, and becomes a very spiritual person. But appreciating a man with deep resentments is much harder to do.[iii] 

And later Nouwen writes,

Returning home from a lustful escapade seems so much easier than returning home from a cold anger that has rooted itself in the deepest corner of my being.[iv] 

Rembrandt’s painting shows an older brother with a long road ahead. The younger brother has made his trip home. The older brother has a long way to go. 

Plus we are also reminded of what causes the most damage in life. Is it hard living, or is it resentment? Both, of course, exact a heavy price. But we now know that resentment has its own penalty. A huge number of persons who have to deal with chronic illness and hospitalization are those who carry resentment and anger around for a long time. Perhaps even cancer and heart disease are caused by resentment. 

THE FATHER WANTS JOY 

The third thing we learn about the parable is that the father wants joy in his house. He talks to the older brother outside the house. He says to him, “Come on inside, son. Join the party.” 

In Rembrandt’s painting the older brother looks at the scene, but not with joy. He does not reach out. There is no smile. There is no sense of welcome on his face. 

We do not know what the older brother decided to do. That’s the mastery and the mystery of Jesus’ parable. It’s open-ended. Did he join the party inside? Did he eventually kneel at his father’s feet for a blessing? Or did he nurse resentment for the rest of his days? 

We don’t know. Jesus may have intentionally left that part out. But we know what God intends. God intends joy for all of His Kingdom. God throws a party for the repentant son and eagerly invites the older son to join the party. 

It’s interesting what Jesus says earlier in this 15^th chapter of Luke. He says something like this: “There is more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety and nine who need no repentance.” We are to participate in the joy without resentment. 

The face of the older brother tells me that joy and resentment cannot co-exist with each other. That’s part of the message here.  

Are any of you lost while still at home? Are any of you like the older son? God invites you to give up your old resentments and grudges. God gives you sufficient grace to do just that. There is no need to question God’s incredible generosity. There is no need to compare yourself to others. 

Just join in the joy of the Kingdom. Join in the party for forgiven and forgiving sinners. Join in the festive celebration of Kingdom living. Come on inside. Come to the party.