Reflection on the Fourth Sunday of Lent

Luke 15: 1-3; 11-32

The story of the Prodigal Son is one of the most famous parables of Jesus.  Many of us could repeat this story almost verbatim. 

The traditional interpretation is that the two brothers represent two extremes of behavior, and the father is a metaphor for God’s all-encompassing, forgiving love. God loves us and always wants to welcome us back. I can relate to both brothers. Like the one who left, I have wasted time and money on things that do not last. I have been very foolish. But I am also like the other brother — reliable, hardworking, maybe a little overachieving and too proud of my accomplishments. And I believe with all my heart that God’s love is always waiting for us, whether we are the prodigal child or the resentful, self-righteous and indignant child.  

Because this is a parable, we are allowed to entertain some other interpretations. When I was younger, I saw myself more clearly in the sons. But now that I am older, I am interested in what we can learn about ourselves from the father.   

The parable is set up by a dramatic event. The youngest son asks the father for his inheritance so he can leave forever. I am sure many of us can remember threatening to run away from home or even from time to time being so mad at our parents that we were tempted to run away and never look back. But did we do it?  I really cannot imagine saying, “Give me my inheritance so that I can leave and never return.” What went on in that family to make this young man do something that drastic? And the story goes on to say that when he has spent all the money and the country he has gone to is deep into a famine, he still doesn’t go home. He gets a very low-wage job feeding pigs. I remind you that in Jesus’ time this type of job would be almost unimaginable because pigs were considered so spiritually unclean, and Jews were never to touch them in any way. When he finally decides to return home, it is because he is desperate, malnourished and completely out of options. The father welcomes him with great love, but what was the father’s role in making the son want to leave in the first place?  

And the other son. Why is his experience so different? For one thing, he is the oldest.  According to the inheritance laws of that time, he will inherit twice as much as the youngest. Perhaps he likes the idea of getting that much money. Perhaps he has a greater sense of obligation. He doesn’t seem to like his brother. He is not happy to see him, and in turn, the younger brother doesn’t seek him out. In many families, the younger one would have snuck back onto the farm and gone to find his brother. “Is Dad really mad at me?”  “Will he take me back, do you think?” That is not part of this parable. These brothers are not friends.  

The father loves them both but has a funny way of showing his love for the son that stays at home. His comment to the oldest son, “You can have a party anytime” does not reassure and, in fact, seems cold and dismissive. 

Let’s imagine this father raising two boys. There is no mention of a mother. Is she dead? Is he a single parent? Perhaps he feels he must be strict. He is busy running a successful farm. He has little time for his sons, and when he sees them he is not warm and loving. He is preparing them for a life where they will have to be tough. Years pass and the younger one, always a problem, asks for his inheritance. The father is deeply hurt but makes the accounting arrangements and gives him the money. The other son is also hurt. His brother is abandoning the family, leaving him alone with the father. 

Once the son is gone, the father takes time to think. Perhaps he realizes he should have spent more time with his children; shown them more love. Let the farm not be run perfectly. The father prays, hope against hope, that the son will return. Every day he looks out to see if he can see him, and one day he does. 

He has a second chance, and he makes the most of it. 

What second chance do we need to give someone?  What second chance do we need to give ourselves? When have we been too strict? Too distracted by other concerns? How have we acted like the father to someone close to us — taking them for granted and being a little too offhand in our comments? 

It is never too late to shower ourselves and others with love, to forgive ourselves or someone else without even needing to talk it through. The younger son needed to seek forgiveness, but the father needed forgiveness as well. 

As older people, we have a calling — we are called to be as loving and caring and accepting as possible. In a polarized world full of judgment, cancelling, doxing and the like, we can stand with open arms — welcoming home parts of ourselves that we pushed away, and welcoming others who come to us spiritually malnourished and out of options. The parable is about how it is never too late to be alive with love.  

Amen