Today, I was thinking about prodigal sons and older brothers.

Everybody in the world falls into one of those two categories, in terms of their life and their relationship to God. (If you don't get this, see the story Jesus told: Luke 15:11-32).

Prodigal sons (or daughters) don't need much explaining. They're the wild ones, the black sheep of their families. They're getting pregnant, sleeping around, drinking too much, partying, doing drugs, out on the street, selling themselves, homeless, acting out, in serial relationships, cutting their bodies, in prison or in the psych ward, getting tattooed and pierced and dressing to shock, seduce or intimidate. They come in all shapes and sizes and we all know them. They may not be honest about exactly what they're doing but everybody knows they're messed up.

Older brothers are the "good" people in life. They're the ones with stable jobs. Good families. An education. They work hard. They keep the rules. They obey the law. They do everything "right". They keep good relationships with people, at least superficially. They pay their bills, show up on time, have a good reputation, dress carefully, save their money, own a home. They're always at church. They don't drink too much, don't party, don't sleep around, don't watch porn, don't do any of the things "prodigals" do—or, if they do, it's a carefully hidden secret behind the facade of a "good" life.

Older brothers are often religious. They're the ones who are convinced—despite what they would tell you, that their good behaviour and abstention from sin somehow (a) makes them superior to others; and (b) gives them a better standing with God.

Older brothers come in all denominations and religions, though some seem to breed them more than others. They can be the faithful Catholic. The ultra-conservative Baptist. The Methodist. The Wesleyan. The Lutheran. The Pentecostal. They're often in church leadership.

Older brothers believe that their righteous living and avoidance of the things that the prodigals do, gives them favour with God. It might not save them, but it sure does give them points. Deep down, they believe that they are good people.

Older brothers can recite the gospel, and they usually believe that they are saved by grace, through faith. They will tell you that it's Jesus' blood and Jesus' death alone that justifies. No one is saved by works.

But correctness on a theological exam or ticking off the boxes does not reveal an older brother. He, or she, is known by his reaction and interaction with other people.

How do you know if you're an older brother? A prodigal knows he's a prodigal. But the sadness of being an older brother is that you don't usually know that you are, or if you do, you're proud of it.

I was an older brother once. I've been a prodigal too (one can be both at the same or different points of one's life), but my tendency is older-brotherness. So here's my test to let you know if you might be an older brother. It's not exhaustive, but it can help:

1. Do you look down on people who are in open sin or living "bad" lifestyles? Do you condemn or speak critically of them?

2. Do you feel that there are some people that you are "too good" to befriend, or who are "not good enough" to be your friend?

3. Is there anybody you won't speak to, in your family or outside, because you are disgusted by their lifestyle?

4. When someone close to you, in your family, church, or friends, is caught in sin, how do you respond? Do you shame, shun, scold, or snub them? Do you make your acceptance of them or association with them dependant on their "repentance"? Do you long to see them "get what they deserve"?

5. If any or all of the following people walked into your church, how would you respond? Would you be angry and indignant? Would you avoid them? Would you refuse to talk to them, welcome them, or shake their hand? Would you say, "I'll be their friend if they become a Christian and clean up?" Take time to envision it before you answer:

• a tattooed, pierced teenager dressed in black, with a mohawk
• a drug addict
• a prostitute, dressed for the street
• a gay couple
• a single mom
• a homeless man, smelling of alcohol
• an unmarried couple living together

6. When somebody comes to Christ out of a horrific lifestyle and is openly celebrated or allowed to minister, are you miffed? Do you think, "I've been a faithful Christian all these years, serving in church, and I'm never recognized like that?"

7. Is there anybody that you feel doesn't deserve God's, the church's, or your mercy because they've sinned too much?

8. Do you look down on or despise people with eating disorders or mental illnesses such as depression, thinking, "Why don't they just get it together? Exercise some willpower and get over it?"

The tragedy of being an older brother is missing God's mercy. None of us are deserving of it. He offers it to all freely. But if you're an older brother, you may not ever think you need it.

The good news is there's hope for older brothers. It lies in the same place hope does for the prodigal: recognizing that you're far away from the Father's house and from his heart (even if you live there), bowing down before him, confessing your undeservingness, and receiving his joyful forgiveness. That's when the party starts.