Sister Sunday School and the Other Brother

Sister Sunday School. That was the name my dear sister gave to me years ago. She was poking fun at the fact that I thought I was the epitome of a good little Christian girl who loved Jesus, the Bible, church, and all the cheesy Christian culture I could consume. I tell you this because it is important that I share some of my story with you in order to make sense of the passage of scripture I want to dissect with you.

You may be familiar with the text. If not, you can click here to read it. It is found in Luke 15:11-32, and it is the parable of the Prodigal Son. I encourage you to reread it even if you know it well.

I have been troubled by this story for most of my life. Why? Because I have always related to the other brother. Let me explain. I grew up in church, and I was taught Christian values in our home. Being “good” was expected, and when I didn’t behave or do what was right, there were consequences. Being someone who thrives from words of affirmation, I learned to love the responses I received from my parents, teachers, and other adults who praised me. I was a good girl. As I got older, I did accept Jesus as the Savior, but it was hard to see change outwardly in my life. After all, I was usually obedient, innocent in my mind, and an all-around good girl. Now if you knew me personally when I was young, I’m sure you are either laughing or coming up with a long list of my shortcomings from my youth, but nevertheless, I was doing well. I strove to be the best Christian. I even led my best friend to Christ when we were in high school. Check. I tried to read my Bible. Check. I prayed. Check. I attended church and revival services and youth camp. Check, check, check. I served as a leader. Check. I was a good Christian. Right?

And because I was a good Christian, I was frustrated and impatient (and to be perfectly honest…judgy) with those Christians around me who didn’t measure up! The kids in youth group who had tasted alcohol (gasp!), were dating (scandalous!), cursing, being physical with their boyfriends and girlfriends, not showing up to Bible study every week, and so on - those kids were the worst in my (albeit sheltered) eyes. I was looking on the outside. And when I read these verses, I would get angry. How could God love them the same as me? That just didn’t compute. I knew it was true, but I didn’t like it. Why was the obedient son in the parable painted as the bad guy? No wonder he was upset! Not to mention that this story made me think that the only valuable testimony was one where someone went and wasted all of their life before making a dramatic turn to the Lord.

That was really how I saw everything.

But as you might’ve suspected and inferred from my story, I was full of pride, anger, bitterness toward God, and selfishness. And I truly didn’t see those sins in my life. I was striving to do things on my own, work hard enough, thinking that my goodness somehow earned the love and praise of my heavenly Father because that is what seemed to work here on earth.

I was so wrong.

One day, when I was about 25 years old, I was walking around the mountains in North Georgia, and the Lord quieted my spirit and I heard Him speak to my heart clearly: You, Amy, are not the good son. You are the prodigal.

What?!?!?! That couldn’t be right. But it was. I am the prodigal. We all are. It was in that moment that I gained a deeper understanding and appreciation for the great love of Christ. It has now been 18 years since I surrendered my life completely to the Lord and 10 since this experience of realizing I was the prodigal. I am a still a work in progress. Over the last 3 years, I have made more outward mistakes than I probably did in the first 25 years of my life. However, now I am quick to repent.

Let’s consider what the apostle Paul (who wrote half of the books in the New Testament) said of himself:

Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. 1 Timothy 1:15

It took me a long time to realize that I, too, am the worst of sinners. I am more and more aware of my sin and my need for a Savior and unending grace.

So if you’re reading the Bible, and you walk away thinking you are better than other people, then you are reading it incorrectly.

I spent too many years of my life thinking that if I worked harder, read my Bible more, and looked obedient and put together on the outside, then I was in good standing with the Lord, certainly better off than the people around me who were obviously failing at the Christian life. I could not have been more wrong. We are all level at the foot of the cross. A good Christian is not the one who is more holy, pure, or righteous than another. No, a good Christian is the one that recognizes he or she is not and never will be holy, pure, or righteous apart from Christ.