George H. Morrison - Devotional Sermons
Devotional For
July 1
The Elder Brother
Now his elder son was in the field--Luke
15:25
Seeing beneath the Regularities
There is not a little that is excellent in
the character of the elder brother, and our Lord, with His eye for what is
fine, is careful to bring that into the picture. For instance, the man was
diligent--he was getting back from the field when all this happened. The
prodigal was returning from debauchery: he was returning from his work. He had
been busy on the farm since early morning, keeping a watchful eye on
everything, and now at twilight he was getting home. Not only was he diligent;
he had also been a pattern of obedience. He could assert, with a perfectly
clear conscience, that he had never transgressed against his father. In all
such excellent attributes of character he was immeasurably superior to the
prodigal, and that the Master freely recognizes. The strange thing about Christ
is how He gets below these outward regularities. He pierces through the
ordering of habit into the secret spirit of the heart. And how He does that
here, till we see the real man, and feel that we should know him if we met him,
is one of the most arresting things in Scripture.
Unappreciative of His Privileges
To begin with, we see him as a man who was
utterly unappreciative of his privileges. He was the kind of person who always
bears a grudge. Every day he had his father's company, and the blessed society
of home. His father's love was round about him constantly, and everything the
father had was his. Yet in the midst of all that wealth of privilege the man
had walked with an ungrateful heart--thou never gavest me a kid. When anyone
breaks out like that, it is not so extemporaneous as it seems. It is the
boiling over, in some heated moment, of what has long been simmering in the
heart. That is the worst of many a bitter word, with its sometimes irreparable
consequences, that reveals, as in a flash of lightning, what has been festering
in the hidden soul. Thou never gavest me a kid--the thought had been there
through many a long day. One trifling little thing had been withheld, and it
had turned the music into discord. With lavish hand the father had given
everything--all that I have is thine--and the man had been brooding on one
thing never given. Are there not many people just like that? God has been
wonderfully good to them; but because some one thing has been withheld they
bear a grudge, and have the bitter heart. And yet they may be industrious and
diligent, and obedient to the daily calls of life, just like the elder brother
in the parable.
Hardened toward His Brother
Again our Lord reveals him as a man who was
utterly hardened toward his brother. He was diligent and obedient--but hard.
There is one exquisite touch which makes that plain--the word brother is never
on his lips. He does not say, "My brother has returned"; he says, "This
thy son is come again"--and sometimes a word (or the absence of a word)
lights up the hidden chambers of the heart. The prodigal was his father's son;
nothing on earth could alter that relationship. "Thy son"--the word
was uttered with a sneer, and a sneer may be deadlier than a sword. But
brother--the word had died out of his speech, because the love it carries had
died out of his heart--the prodigal no longer was his brother. He had ceased to
be his brother long ago. He had ceased when he became a prodigal. The elder had
no kinship with the junior. His heart had no room for ne'er-do-wells. Yet with
that unbrotherly and hardened heart (as the Lord is so careful to remind us)
the man was a pattern of industry and diligence. How searching is the eye of
Christ! How unerringly He sees the deeps! I suppose the Pharisees thought that
they were models, till the Lord revealed what was hidden in the darkness. And
sometimes, in the strict performance of our duties, He gives us also a little
glimpse of that, and we cry, "God be merciful to me a sinner."
Out of Sympathy with His Father
Again we see this man, for all his
excellencies, utterly out of sympathy with his father. His attitude to the
younger brother involves that. Of whom had the father been thinking every day?
He had been thinking of the prodigal. He had been praying for him--he had been
longing for him--he had been watching for him through the weary months. And
always beside him was his elder son, with his heart utterly hardened to the
prodigal--father and son a million miles apart. The real prodigal was the elder
brother. He was farther away than was the ne'er-do-well. Between him and the
father's loving heart there stretched a quite immeasurable distance. Yet he was
at home, and under the same roof, and in his father's presence every day, while
the prodigal was in an alien land. How often we light on that in human life! Two
may be near each other, and yet far away. Two may wake and sleep in the same
dwelling, yet be more distant than if oceans parted them. And that is what
Jesus felt about those Pharisees, to whom this parable was spoken--they were so
near and yet they were so far. Sitting in the very seat of Moses, they were
strangers to the loving heart of God. Thronging the Father's House, they shared
not the Father's yearning for the prodigal. Yet were they diligent, scrupulous,
exact--earnest toilers in the field of Scripture--just like the elder brother
of the parable.
The Father Loved the Unlovable Elder Son
In closing, we should never forget that the
father loved that elder son. He was not lovable, but the father loved him. Did
he run (exquisite touch!) to meet the prodigal? He acted similarly with the
elder brother. He left the song and dance to go and find him. He could not
leave him, embittered, in the darkness. And when he found him--he, the Eastern
father whose prerogative was to command--he stooped in fatherly yearning and
entreated him. Then follows that charming touch of Jesus, for the father did
not call him son. He called him child--so is it in the Greek--and child is a
word of tenderest affection. Doubtless the prodigal was far more
lovable--ne'er-do-wells are often very lovable. This elder brother (like many
other people) was just a little difficult to love. And the triumph of the art
of Jesus is not that He makes the father love the prodigal, but that He makes
him love the elder brother. What Jesus teaches is that that is God. His love
embraces folk who are not lovable. So mighty is it that it sweeps into its
circuit folk who are very difficult to love. "For God so loved the world,
that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not
perish."
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