Helping the "Healthy" - Christianity Today

I have about decided that the most dangerous thing people can do in the church is be healthy. The leadership will either overuse them on committees and ministry teams, until they're no longer healthy, or we will just ignore them. Clergy have a particularly hard time knowing how to care for those who do not appear to be in trouble.

It isn't really that difficult to preach to prodigals. Pastors are well trained for this task, believe it is core to the gospel, and love nothing more than proclaiming the forgiving grace of God to the sinner. But what does the pastor have to say to all of those elder brothers who have faithfully stayed in the pews of the church their whole lives?

Face it—caring for the elder brother is a drag. He doesn't want any of our sexy recovery programs because he isn't divorced, bereaved, or addicted to anything other than playing it safe. He doesn't have a dramatic story to share because he never got around to making a mess of life before returning to the outstretched arms of the rejoicing Father. So all we say is "Well, you have always been here and we're proud of you, too. Now, about the stewardship committee—"

I am not exactly sure that the elder brother is spiritually healthy. The point of the parable, it seems to me, is that the goal is to find yourself in the arms of the Father. It may be that the elder brother was in greater danger of never finding those arms than the prodigal who had to run away to return to them. But that is precisely my concern. How do we preach saving grace to those who just aren't good at sinning?

The preacher has to remember that not being a flagrant sinner is a particularly seductive means of rebellion. This was essentially Jesus' point to the Pharisees. Those who have not broken the rules may be farther from the Father's arms than those who've broken most all of them. Sin is anything that separates us from God, and nothing does that quite like not feeling the need for mercy. Again, the point isn't to be good. The point is to get into those arms, and grace is the only way there.

This means preachers are called to peel back the veneer of spiritual health in the elder brothers, and help them to see that beneath all of those years of careful living lies a soul that is as dangerously parched as that of the prodigals. Their right answers, dedicated volunteerism, beautiful families, and well-marked study Bibles can keep them away from the love of the Father just as much as the prodigals' wantonness.

Whether he realizes it or not, like everyone else, the elder brother yearns to be in the right relationship with God. But for him, that requires repenting of his years and years of living so carefully that he doesn't need grace. This is not an easy point to make as a preacher.

Over the years, I have learned to get at this hard truth by telling short, subtle anecdotes. For example: "A woman is vacuuming one day, praying that God will make her a better mother. As she looks out the living room window, she sees her five-year-old son in the backyard. He is throwing a ball up in the air and clumsily trying to catch it. She doesn't know why, but she can't stop crying."

It is not necessary to interpret the story by making the obvious point that the goal is not to be a better mother, but gratefully to enjoy the child God has given her. With prodigals you have to be obvious, but with their careful, hard-working elder siblings, only subtlety will pierce through the self-righteousness. This is why Jesus liked parables so much.

Other preachers may prefer different strategies for speaking to those who have lived too carefully. But clearly, the healthy members of the church are in just as big trouble as everyone else. If we pastors ever get confused about that, we have only to look just beneath the surface of our own spiritual veneer.

Editor at large Craig Barnes is pastor of Shadyside Presbyterian Church and professor of leadership and ministry at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.