The Good Sons

I'm the eldest child, and my daddy's favorite. In fact, everyone says I look exactly like my dad: I've got his eyes, his bad skin, his color, his hair, even his walk. The only thing he didn't give me was his speedy metabolism. Darn.

Anyway.

Like most good, obedient eldest children, I always had a problem with some parts of the Bible. If you're the eldest child, I bet you know what I'm talking about.

I mean, come on. Why did God say "Jacob I have loved, but Esau I have hated." Say what? I thought God loved everybody. Why did he hate Esau? Esau was a good boy, did what his mommy and daddy wanted. They told him to hunt, he hunted. Daddy told him to get stuff for stew, he did. And Jacob, sneaky younger brother that he was, cheated him out of his inheritance. It was just a blessing, but it meant Esau would always be second fiddle to sneaky ol' Jacob till the end of time. But God loved him and hated Esau. What's up with that? I'm not even going to go into how annoying Jacob's son Joseph probably was, saying he had dreams where his brothers and parents would bow down to him, showing off the coat daddy gave; to the point that his brothers decided to throw him down a pit, and then sell him to the slave traders. God knows how often I wanted to sell my sisters off by the pound. But I digress.

Then there's poor Cain. Why, in heaven's name, did He reject Cain's nice clean fruits and veggies, and preferred Abel's stinky sheep? I mean, I can just imagine why that pissed off Cain so much he resorted to murder. Bet he was thinking, "My, that Abel's just the biggest suck-up-- and those sheep, he didn't even MAKE those sheep! That's so annoying. I think I'll kill him. " God knows, I was close to murdering my second sister when I was a kid. She got away with things that got me spankings. Then again, she's also considered the "black sheep" of the family. Which brings me to another story I had a huge -- the biggest, actually -- problem with.

The Prodigal Son. Now that guy was a jerk. Took his inheritance in advance and just blew it on wine, women and karaoke. Or whatever else they had in those days. So he runs out of money, ends up hungry in a pig sty, and decides to come running back to daddy. And what does daddy do? Does he kick him out? Nah. Does he even say "I told you so?" Nah. Takes the huge ring off his finger (probly the one with the family crest, I bet) puts it on the prodigal, takes the cloak off his back, puts it on the stinky pigsty dude too, and tells his good elder son to roast the fattest calf they have and throw a party for the homecoming. No wonder elder brother grumbled while roasting the fatted calf.

Ever since I was a kid, that was my problem. It really annoyed the heck out of me. I mean, that wasn't fair. Esau and the rest, they were good kids. Like me. Worked hard. Like me. Did everything their daddies said. Like me. Took care of the family and the family business. Like me. So what was wrong with them?

What was wrong with them was that they didn't think there was anything wrong with them. Like me.

The first order of business in getting right and close and personal with God is repentance. You can't do that if you think you're good, and you can't be sorry if you think you haven't done anything wrong.

You can't humble yourself if you think you're perfect. It's called pride, and it's a terrible sin, because the more you have it, the less you think you need God. The less you think you need God, the less chance there is you're going to come humbly running to Him, begging for His mercy. Like me, those sons thought they deserved special treatment. (Again, like me.) Cain was proud of his produce, thinking it was all his brilliant farming that yielded those cool veggies and stuff. He wanted to be praised, not to praise the Lord. Abel, on the other hand, knew he was only taking care of the sheep that God made, and gave back the sheep, and the glory. Esau was most likely proud too, he-man, cool hunter, daddy's little man. "Hey, dad, guess who brought home the bacon today! " Oh wait, make that mutton, bacon was a no-no for those guys. But. Anyway.

It's pride, plain and simple. So you work and work and work, grumbling because you think you're doing everything, but not getting blessed, and wondering why, when you're not doing the one and only thing He really wants you to do: repent, and tell Him you need Him.

And there you are, grumble-thinking "I'm the good one, dammit, why are you giving them everything?!!! It isn't fair!"

Then God says, like the daddy in the story, " Oh? Haven't I? Weren't you always here and with me? Wasn't all I have yours for the asking?" But you never asked. It was all just a chore to you. At least that's what I think the daddy said.

And one last thing. The biggest mistake we can ever make, like me, is to think we're nothing at all like the prodigal son. In the eyes of God, ever since Adam, we all are the same as the pigsty guy. Stinky, smelly, far away from Him and His love, protection and provision, until we decide to repent and ask to be under Him again.

And yes, it isn't fair. That's a blessing. Because if we're going by what's fair, by God's own rules, man, we'd be dead now.

I'm not the good child, none of us are. There was only One good and perfect Son, and He had to die on the cross for us pigsty people. And because He did, we all can come home, and enjoy the party daddy's holding for us, in honor of our return.