The father’s love for both of his sons is unreserved and unlimited. His unreversed welcome of the returned son in no way means that he loved him more than the elder son. I do not find any favouritism for one son over another. The father did not compare them. He responded to them with the same love according to their uniqueness. 

All of us are unique creations of God. As the Scripture says, some of us were covetous, drunkards, or revilers, and are like the prodigal son. However, some of us were like the elder brother, who appeared to be quiet and even obedient. Whoever we were, God loved and converted us to be the citizens of His kingdom. 

I find two issues about the elder son: one, his resentment to the father, and two, his lack of brotherly love for his younger brother. He failed in judging his father to be unfair and unkind to him. The words he spoke to the father showed how deeply he was in anger. “And he answering said to his father, Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment: and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends: But as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf.” His father joy over the return of the prodigal son hurt him deeply. His anger kept him from welcoming his brother. He referred to his younger brother as “this thy son” (v. 30a). He distanced himself from both his father and younger brother. He failed to love his bother as himself. The young brother’s leaving home and his subsequent life were utter failures. He recognised his wrongs and gathered all his courage to return home with repentance. However, the elder brother did not greet and welcome him first. His heart was full of condemnations and resentments against him. Though his responses could be justified in light of the younger brothers’ misbehaviours, after all, they were brothers. The elder brother was not a judge or rival of the younger brother. By calling him “this thy son” to his father, he objectified his father and brother as if they were strangers. He despised his younger brother, and he gave only a cold shoulder to his father as if he was a hard master making his one son do all the work without giving him any reward. One thing is very sure. He did not see his father’s love. 

The father waited for the return of the prodigal son, and he went out to urge the elder son to come into the joy of his family. God is waiting for the return of the prodigal children to Him, and He is urging and pleading with His elder sons to come and stay with Him. He invites them both. 

The most important things the elder such must have are “trust in the father” and “gratitude to him.” He neither trusted in the father’s love nor was thankful for His love. The elder son was angry with his father because he failed to trust in the father’s love and wisdom and to be thankful for his care and love. Henri Nouwen said, “The discipline of gratitude is the explicit effort to acknowledge that all I am and have is given to me as a gift of love, a gift to be celebrated with joy. The gratitude as a discipline involves a conscious choice. I can choose to be grateful even when my emotions and feelings are still steeped in hurt and resentment. It is amazing how many occasions present themselves in which I can choose gratitude instead of a complaint. I can choose to be grateful when I am criticised, even when my heart still responds in bitterness. I can choose to speak about goodness and beauty, even when my inner eye still looks for someone to accuse or something to call ugly. I can choose to listen to the voices that forgive and to look at the faces that smile, even while I still hear words of revenge and see grimaces of hatred” (The Return of the Prodigal Son, p. 85).

That “the gratitude as a discipline involves a conscious choice” means that it takes efforts to be thankful at times. However, when we are disciplined to choose gratitude, next time will be easier and even less self-conscious to make the same choice. An Estonian proverb says, “Who does not thank for little will not thank for much.” In order to have a heart of gratitude, there may be situations for us to have a leap of faith. It is because our gratitude may not return to us in the way that we give. That’s why I am saying that trust and gratitude require discipline. 

As I am closing my stories of the parable of the prodigal son, I cannot but end with the father. Though two brothers are in the distance, the father is connected to both. He was the welcoming father to the prodigal son, and the exhorting and urging father to the elder son. The central figure of the parable is the father. Because of love, he permitted one son to go to a faraway country and to lose everything. Because of love, he desired another son to stay home and enjoy everything at home. In both cases, his love was not imposed upon them, but they must choose to receive his love. On the other hand, I should not ignore the fact that the children’s hearts were not always close with him. The prodigal son had not cared about him until he returned home. The elder son had not honour or love for him. I cannot deny that they were disloyal to him. 

I think about his fatherhood. How was he regarded by them? What authority did he have over them? He released his fortune to one prodigal son. He pleaded with another son to believe and trust in him and his judgment. The prodigal son left with money and lived a dishonourable life. The elder son resisted and opposed father’s kindness to his returned brother. He was angry. How did the father respond to both? There is one word revealing everything in his heart. “And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him” (15:20). It was compassion that welcomed his prodigal son. This same compassion was released to the elder son even to say, “Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine” (15:31b). The father comforted both sons, but no one seemed to have cared for him. Both sons talked about their griefs, but the father was an ever giver. He reached out to both. 

I think about what the father did to the sons. He saw a brokenness in both sons. They were broken by external causes like famine and unkindness of people in case of the prodigal son, and hard work and inner hurt and wounds in case of the elder son. However, I must say that they broke themselves, too. No one forced them to do what they did. The result of their choices brought them down to despair. To them, the father only blessed them by welcoming and exhorting. What he said was comforting – one son was dead but now alive, and another son had everything that I have. He said only good things about them, which is the meaning of “bless” in Latin, benedicere. The father’s deeds and words toward his sons cannot be explained apart from his compassion, which is a sign of love. All he wanted his sons to know was his love. I must be reminded that he called the prodigal son “son” (15:24, “my son”), who was not worthy of being his son (15:19), and he also called the elder son “son” (15:31). This father is a picture of the heavenly father, who is love. As I close my talk about the parable, my last thought dwells on the father’s words in 15:32b, “thy brother was dead, and is alive again.” He pleaded with him to accept and love his brother. Is it a lesson for us, too? The parable of the prodigal son is a story about you and me.

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