During his earthly sojourn, Jesus hated self-righteousness. He still does.

He hated it in the Pharisee who prayed, “Lord I thank you that I am not like this other guy. Eish, he’s such a sinful mess, I’m so glad I am nothing like him. How happy that I have no need for mercy and forgiveness” (Luke 18:9–14, somewhat paraphrased!). He hates it in Donald Trump who said, “I never need to ask God for forgiveness.” But, closer to home, he hates it when I refuse to forgive my brothers and sisters in Christ. He hates it when I refuse to carry the burden of a fellow church member on the path to repentance.

Last Sunday evening we prayed Galatians 6:1–2: “Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted. Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.” Paul makes a passionate appeal for both a compassionate attitude and compassionate actions towards our brothers and sisters who have fallen into sin. He instructs us to bear the burden of the fallen by helping to restore them in their relationship with the Lord. As we do so, we are called to honest self-appraisal and humble assessment of our own temptations and weakness. In obeying it, we help both others and ourselves—for, one day, we too will need others to help us in carrying our burdens arising from our sin. Writing this, I am reminded of John Wesley’s encounter with a General Oglethorpe. Oglethorpe said, “I forgive, but I never forget.” Wesley wisely replied, “Then I hope you never sin.”

Brothers and sisters, may God help us to keep watch against what we might call elder-brother religion.

You are probably familiar with the story, in Luke 15:11–32, of the father with two sons. One was loyal and apparently lived a morally upstanding life. But the younger son was ungrateful, disrespectful, and rebellious. He left home after demanding his inheritance and proceeded to make a royal mess of his life. While starving, he came to his senses, repented of his attitude and actions, and returned home to make right. His highest expectation was to be treated as a servant, certainly not as a son. But, boy, was he surprised! The father embraced him, expressing forgiveness, and seemingly didn’t even give the son opportunity to confess! The father restored him to his position as a son and threw a party for him. “My son has returned! My son has come to his senses! My son has repented! Welcome home!” But not everyone was enjoying the party.

The father’s elder son—who did not waste his inheritance, who did not abandon the homestead, and who, by all appearances, was squeaky clean—was bitter. He was unforgiving. He was self-righteous. His heart was hardened. And so, while the father rejoiced in the return, the elder brother ruminated in resentment. He was offended by grace.

The elder brother’s response cuts far too close to the bone. Methinks that often he is my doppelganger. Is he yours?

Consider: How do we respond to our brother or sister in Christ who has messed up and sought restoration? Do we simply write them off with, “Well, I always knew he couldn’t be trusted?” “After all that I have done for her, how could she?” “Sure, anyone can say they are repentant, but this is probably just remorse that they got caught. I’ve been burned before; never again.” “Well, I will forgive, but I won’t forget.” “I have never fallen like that, so why is she getting all this attention from the church?” “Why is he being welcomed back into membership? Have we forgotten the way he rebelled?” On and on, ad nauseum. Though this parable of the prodigal points to the lavish love of God, it’s main purpose was to rebuke the “elder brother” Jesus was subtly addressing: the self-righteous Pharisees, who hopefully listened with great discomfort. Jesus intended this parable to be an emetic to disgorge the self-righteousness of the merely religious.

We should observe that, in this parable, the “righteous” elder brother had also fallen. The elder brother was equally in need of grace. He needed to repent of his bitter self-righteousness. How often we are tempted, like the elder brother, to heap guilt upon those struggling to be restored rather than behaving like the father who exhibited burden-lifting grace. Since God is gracious to those who have grieved him, how dare we not be gracious to them as well? O how we need deliverance from elder brother religion! May God grant it to us, freeing us to free others of a burden too great to bear on their own.

A rescued prodigal, whose burden others helped to carry,

Doug