we all know the much told story of the prodigal son, right? in fact, i even wrote a poem about it once, imagining the prodigal son had gone prodigal again [as one does] which you can take a look at here, but if you in fact don’t know the story, you can look it up in Luke 15.11-32.
and we all focus on the bad son and how we relate and the clever preachers tell us how it should be renamed ‘the good father’ or something like that [i wonder if anyone has ever juxtapositioned it with 'The Godfather' because the comparison/contrast seems like a natural go to] but in the last couple of weeks it is interesting to note how much i keep finding myself comparing myself to the older brother.
which is not a good thing. he was always the wimp and the whiner. it’s like, “dude, free party, go inside” and i think i used to get annoyed with people who would compare themselves to him when i was growing up, cos i just couldn’t see it. He is just a complete lamehead.
so it does concern me to keep finding myself comparing me to him, cos what would ten year younger brett think of me? [that guy has been popping up in all sorts of conversations and scenarios lately, although to be honest i think he would have got arrested or beaten up yesterday in the situation down the street with the police and the neighbors and the car crash, cos that guy sometimes could not hold his mouth...]
let’s remind ourselves:
“But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.
“Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’
“The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’
“‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’” Luke 15.22-32
