the other brother

from my sermon from Luke 15:11-32 on 9/19/10

The prodigal son! The prodigal son! I am sick and tired of hearing about the prodigal son! I am the elder son, the other brother. I demand equal time. I want to tell you my story.

That particular day, I had been out plowing in the fields all day. Now, you may think driving a bid John Deere tractor is a cushy job with a/c and power steering, but I am here to tell you that tractors break down and get stuck and planters get clogged. There are plenty of things to worry about: the price of fuel and the commodity markets. At the end of that long day, I parked the tractor at the shed at the back of the house. I took one more look at the sky to see what the weather might bring. I walked in the back door of the house where the wash room was. I took off my work boots, not wanting to mess up the floors in the rest of the house. I hung up my "gimme" hat on the hook there inside the door. I stood at that deep sink where the Lava soap was and began scrubbing my hands. It was then I noticed that something was different. Weren't there a lot of cars parked around the house? Was that music coming from beyond the louvered doors that separated the wash room from the kitchen? Did I hear lively conversation? Did I smell barbecue? Just at that time, I noticed one of our hired hands crossing the back yard. I opened the back door and yelled, "Earl, what's going on?" He came over, "You don't know?" "Know what?" "Your brother, the one called the prodigal, has come back, and your father is throwing him a party. Isn't that great?" And I said "Snigglefritz, Shibboleth,*&%$#@, or whatever you favorite curse word is." I stood there inside the wash room, just inside the louvered doors, clenching my fists, my jaws tight, and said, "I don't get it. I just don't get it."

(walking to the other side of the chancel) Of course he doesn't get it. He doesn't know what it is like to be the second born, the younger brother. He doesn't know what it is like to compete with Mr. Perfect, Mr. Straight A's, Mr. Polite. He doesn't know what it is like to set down in class and have the teacher say, "Now, Lynn, will you answer number10 please?" And for the one thousandth time, saying, "My name is not Lynn, that is my older brother. My name is David." And the teacher saying, "Oh, Lynn did so well; I am sure you will also." I found a way to get my own attention. I found I had great hand to mouth coordination (mime drinking a beer). I found out that if you were buying you were very popular. I wanted to be as different from him (pointing at the older brother) as possible. I had to get out of there, so as soon as I could, I said, "I want what is mine." And I got out. Of course, he doesn't understand. He doesn't get it.

(walking back to the side representing the older brother) I don't get it. My old dad came out to get me. He said, "Won't you come in and join the party?" I said, "It' s not fair! All of my life I have worked hard for you, I have never disobeyed you, and you have never even cooked for me and my friends cabrito. But when this son of yours who has blown the family fortune on sex and drugs and rock and roll comes home, you throw him a party! It's not fair."

I grew up with a script that life was supposed to be fair. You work hard, you fly straight, you are polite, and you get rewarded. I acted this way, and life had been good to me. My senior year in high school was going to be the best because of this. I had been elected student council president. My good grades had set me in place to graduate as valedictorian of my class at Littlefield High School. But the most important thing of all (putting on my high school letter jacket) was that I was captain of the football team. You see that star on my jacket? That stands for captain. I was the starting quarterback on offense and the cornerback on defense. You know the national religion of the state of Texas is football. Friday night lights and all that.

Now, as you can see, I am not very big, nor particularly fast, nor strong. So how did I get to be captain? The other guys were not that good. I remember Floyd, a lineman, in the huddle, asking, "Now, which side are we on?" "We are the maroon and white, Floyd! Block those other guys!!" And my linemen who perform a "look out block." That is when the ball was hiked back to me, they would lie down on the grass, and yell, "Look out!"

My senior year was supposed to be great. We had moved down from AAA to AA, so people said we were going places. Now, we had lost all of our games as 8th graders, 9th graders, and Junior Varsity, so I didn't see it, but expectations were high. The first day of 2 a day practices ( I still get sick to my stomach in late August when I small fresh mown grass of the practice field) in a warm up drill in the first 5 minutes, I sprained my ankle. Instantly I go from first string to third string. By the time we go through scrimmages and the start of the season, I work my way back up.

The first game of the year, we are winning. But on a routine sweep around the left side, one of my linemen rolls over my ankle and it is sprained again right before halftime. We are still winning. There is time for only 1 more play. The other team is on their own 20 yard line. They throw an 80 yard touchdown pass over the guy who took my place on defense. We lose the game. That weekend, our head coach has a heart attack. He lives, but the team is thrown into chaos, as an assistant coach takes over as acting head coach.

We lose ball game after ball game. One time we are driving down the field, and coach calls a timeout. I go over to get instructions. Coach says, "Go out there Lynn and run our offense." I was kinda hoping for a little more specific instructions. We keep losing. Towards the end of the season, coach calls me out of history class into the principal's office. He asks me, "Do you know why we are losing all of these games, Lynn?" "Doh....why coach?" He said, "It's because of you." As a 17 year old, I didn't take that real well. AS you can see 40 year later, I don't have any remaining issues at all. (laughter) I said to myself, "It's not fair. It's not fair."

(stepping to the middle position, the omniscent point of view) It isn't fair. Is life fair? You may have heard that life isn't fair. You know what life is? It is full of grace, not fairness. There is grace, God's unmerited love, for a son who runs away and makes a mess of his life. There is grace for the dutiful one who is super-responsible, but not compassionate.

We call this the parable of the prodigal son, but it is not. Do you know what prodigal means? It means extravagant, lavish, overgenerous. This story is the parable of the prodigal father, who lavishes his love on 2 sons. Before the younger one can even choke out his confession, the father has run out to him and embraced him, and forgiven him. And the father goes out to the older son, the other brother to let him know how important he is to him, and to beg him to let go of his self-righteousness and simply celebrate the fact that his brother was dead and is now alive, was lost and is now found.

I want you to know as the older son, the other brother, I accepted grace. That senior year in high school when everything was so bad, my girlfriend, Mary Gail, took me to a revival, held at the school auditorium. Before it even began, she showed me a verse that has defined me, Ephesians 2:8-9, "For by grace, you have been saved through faith. It is the gift of God, not because of works, lest anyone should boast." All of my life I had been trying to earn God's favor, to prove that God should love me. I now have only 1 sermon that I just dress up a little differently each week: that we cannot save ourselves, only God can do that, and it is a gift. Now the lifetime super-responsible script as the older son is still deep inside of me. If you are to wake me up at 3 a.m. and ask me what are you most afraid of? I would say, "that I am not good enough." That is the burden that the older children bear.

Who is further from home? The younger one had to nothing to lose. When you are a Jewish person out feeding the pigs, you have hit bottom. I think he had everything to gain by going home. Ah, the older son, the other brother, how hard it is for him to give up his supposed perfectionism. He knows all about rules and regulations, but does he know about loving relationships? He lives in the house, but does he know it as his home, where he is accepted?

I like the way Luke remembers Jesus telling this story? It is not resolved. Does the elder son, the other brother, go in and join the party? I don't know. What would you do?