I’ve been pondering the parable of the prodigal son. It’s a wonderful story about redemption, depicted time and again in books, movies, songs, poetry, art. Ever since Jesus told the parable to his disciples and the Pharisees, millions of people have identified with the prodigal son, and gained hope by the redemptive love he is offered by the father.

Personally, it’s hard for me to identify with the prodigal son. I’ve spent my whole life in church, accepted Jesus into my heart when I was six, am a pastor’s kid, work at a church myself. I’ve been – at least in my own recollection – the human version of a white-picket fence. I’ve never smoked, never drank, never really acted out or got into trouble with the law. And so I’ve routinely passed over the parable of the prodigal son. An important story, sure, but not one that I easily identify with. I’ve hardly been lost – I’ve grown up in the church. My testimony is boring compared to everyone else’s! The prodigal son? That’s not me. (In truth, we all start out as separated from God.)

After rereading the story of the prodigal son more and more, I have found a point of connection in Jesus’ parable. But not with the prodigal! I’ve taken to identifying more with the firstborn son instead. I identify readily with the firstborn son. It has often felt to me like I’m the one who has stayed behind, one of the only people or even the sole person who has been faithful and committed. In recent years, our church has seen a greater-than-normal amount of change as people have left in somewhat dramatic fashion. There has been no small amount of hurt, betrayal, frustration, anger, and brokenness left behind. For me, being in a (minor!) position of leadership has left me with a (again, minor!) portion of the burden left behind and an overwhelming amount of pride in myself. I am one of the faithful few! I’ve persisted where other people have failed, I’m the one who has to pick up the pieces and hold everything together, everything is dependent on me!

What a prideful way of looking at the situation! I’ve found through this season that I enjoy being that go-to person for people- the person with all the answers, the person has to solve everything, the person constantly busy. It can be source of great pride and even comfort to me – that is, the feeling that other people need me, that I am important not in terms of aesthetic value but economic value. I also enjoy the feeling of perseverance, but not in a healthy way. I enjoy the feeling of perseverance in situations like these simply because I can scorn other people for NOT persevering. I’m better than they are, because I stayed faithful and they didn’t. They didn’t have the strength, and I did.

The truth is, the moment that mentality enters into our minds, it start to shift our heart towards people. Once you begin to feel pride in your own faithfulness, once you begin to scorn other people for their failings, you look past your own. You set yourself in an infallible class of person, and you stop loving other people and seeing them as Christ would have. You start to see them with the eyes of a Pharisee. And there’s a problem with being a Pharisee. You see, Pharisees portray themselves as holier than other people. More spiritual than other people. Better in relationship with God. More economically central to groups of people. As a leader, it becomes easy to forget about serving other people. You start to think of leadership as dictating to other people instead.

And, point number two, you’re still a sinful person. When you’re a Pharisee, superficial holiness is more important that actual sanctification. You have to hide your sin instead of confessing it, because you can’t really show anyone the deep sin that you’re wrestling with. You can talk about your struggles with pride or anxiety or fearfulness in vague terms, but you can’t share the specific sins in your life because it’ll reveal to others just how wicked and depraved and twisted you really are. And then, they’ll take you off that pedestal. You won’t be economically central anymore. They won’t need you anymore.

See the progression?

The solution to this problem is easy, but it’s hard to implement in real life. Confess your sins; not just to God, but to spiritual mentors or authorities in your life. Spend time with God, in prayer and in His word. Remember, the Pharisees knew their Scriptures better than everyone else, but couldn’t perceive or apply its heart to their lives. And if you need to, remove yourself from leadership entirely. The apostle Paul said aspiration to leadership is an admirable thing- but he is quick to remind that not everyone can or should do it. The prophet Ezekiel likewise cautioned the leaders of Israel about the burdens and responsibilities they had – and the danger if they messed it up. (Check out Jeremiah 23, Ezekiel 34, and 1 Timothy 3). If you find this Pharisee-like mindset to be recurrent, take yourself out of the way of people’s spiritual growth. That mentality WILL hinder people in their relationship with Jesus.

And as a final word of encouragement, remember not to dwell in shame. It’s so easy to live in shame when you desire superficial holiness. But Jesus died and rose again, not just for your sin but so that you would go and sin no more. So that you could live in Christ’s own freedom, and walk with the Father in the confidence of, not an enemy, but an adopted heir.