After another pause, Judah said, “But you know, at least I hadn’t blown my inheritance and ruined my reputation, right? That was something! Maybe I wasn’t as godly as Dad, but I was still better than you! Or so I thought . . . till you came home. Then Dad threw you your big party and invited everyone, and everybody was celebrating the dead brother who came back to life. Everybody except me. I was angry — at you, at Dad, at God, at everyone at the party. I knew my anger wasn’t righteous, and I didn’t care. When Dad came out and pleaded with me to join the party, I lashed out at him. I was mean. No way was I going into that house. I wasn’t happy to see you. And I wanted to make Dad feel bad.”
Ben couldn’t help but cringe at these words. They were hard to hear. But they were harder for Judah to say.
Judah went on. “It wasn’t until Dad had gone back in the house and I was alone with myself that I saw the whole ugly truth: all my efforts over the years to please Dad, all my hard work, all the time I was pouring into everything I did — none of it was really for Dad’s sake. Or for God’s sake. It was all for my sake. My anger toward you and toward Dad, it was all about me — me not getting the recognition I craved and me having my shameful selfishness exposed. And it suddenly hit me: I was as much a prodigal as you had been. I was blowing my inheritance on myself as I chased my heart’s desires. I was doing it in more socially commendable ways, but they were just as selfish at the core. And I was as distant from Dad as you had been.”
Persecution Live 