The Rest of the Inheritance Is Yours

The prodigal son's brother may have had a point after all.

Sometime ago, I had an experience that made me see his side of the story differently. It wasn't some profound spiritual encounter. In fact, it was a very ordinary church moment, but it gave me a glimpse into what it must have felt like to stand in the shadows while someone else got all the attention.

For context, there are moments I may not be particularly consistent with attending church, The Elevation Church, due to work or personal demands. So, whenever I eventually show up after disappearing for a month or more, there's usually a lot of excitement. People ask where I've been, the ushering team fusses over me a little, and everyone acts as though a long-lost relative came visiting. And yes, before you ask, I am fully aware that I am the prodigal son in this story.

On this particular Sunday, I spotted one of the pastors I have a good relationship with and decided to go say hello. Before I could catch him, he stepped into one of the church offices, so I followed him in. The moment he saw me, his face lit up. He immediately started asking where I'd been, how I was doing, what I'd been up to, and all the usual catch up questions. There were a few other people in the office, one of whom was clearly much closer to him than I was.

As he continued talking to me, she jokingly interrupted and said, "PL is not giving me attention because he sees me all the time. He's excited because he hasn't seen you in forever."

Everybody laughed.

Eventually, he turned to her and replied, "You are my person na."

The moment passed quickly and the conversation moved on, but as I walked out of that office, the story of the prodigal son in Luke 15:11-32, immediately came to mind. For the first time, I found myself analyzing how the elder brother must have felt.

Imagine being the one who stayed.

The one who showed up.

The one who was present every day.

The one who remained faithful while somebody else disappeared.

Then one day, the person who left comes back and suddenly all the excitement is reserved for them. Everybody is celebrating. Everybody is paying attention. Everybody is glad they're back. Meanwhile, you've been there the entire time and nobody seems particularly impressed by your consistency.

I imagine that's exactly how the elder brother felt. Not necessarily angry about the party itself, but wondering why the son who left appeared to receive more attention than the son who stayed. Yet when he confronted his father, the response was fascinating.

"My son, you are always with me, and all that I have is yours." (Luke 15:31)

Not some of it. All of it.

The older brother was so focused on the celebration happening in front of him that he momentarily forgot what he already possessed. The returning son got a feast, but the brother had access. He had relationship. He had position. He had inheritance.