We gather for Mass each week, and we bring to the altar what’s going on in our world of experience. Some people bring a sense of gratitude. Some bring their tears, or confusion, or discouragement. We’re a ‘mixed bag’ of human longing and joy—as depicted in this week’s Gospel story of the prodigal son.”
Remember that Scripture tells us about ourselves. When reading a page, it’s as if we’re holding a mirror and looking at ourselves—because when reading scripture, each character in a parable, story, setting, or scene is us! At different moments in our lives, we ARE those characters. For example, in the prodigal son story, we are the young son, the older son, and the father. At least, we CAN be each one—if we choose to be.
Keep in mind that this parable is addressed to a first-century, Israelite audience who lives in a culture wherein sons have a well-defined relationship to their father. For us, 2000 years later, we can apply the lessons of this parable to women since the lessons are not directed just at men.
When the young son asks for his inheritance, he’s violating norms and insulting his father. The father in this story is a “God figure,” so when he gives freely of his wealth to this son, we are reminded of how much God has given us. We might also be reminded of how we might be prone to “taking” and not giving thanks to God or to others who have been good or kind and giving to us. We overlook courtesies and make our demands—as we think only of ourselves (and not the community for whom the laws were intended to produce good behavior).
The young son continues to behave in self-centered ways and pursues a lifestyle that sees him waste his time, talent, and treasure. Now destitute, he sinks to the level of being with pigs—an “unclean” or tabooed animal among the Israelites. Famine was everywhere, and he was so starved that he longed to eat what the pigs ate. In short, his story is that of a young person violating cultural norms (which were the same as his people’s religious norms—symbolized in his association with pigs, the much disdained animal of Israelite (and later, Muslim) tradition.
In thinking of his plight, the young man perhaps recalls his religious formation and that his “father” in heaven (i.e., God) will show mercy to him if he returns to his earthly “father” and asks for forgiveness. And so his life is saved by returning to the “father” above and below. Rich in mercy and slow to anger, his father-s rejoiced in his return to the homestead. Behaving this way, the father does what Jesus did—he eats with a sinner—his son, the dregs of society. Remember today’s Gospel passage began by reporting that Jesus ate with sinners.
His behavior, like the father’s toward the son, was not solely him being a do-gooder or humanitarian. Just as Jesus ate with sinners, so did the father warmly welcome back his sinful son to the dinner table. He did not reject or ignore him. The father presumably kept watch for the ne’er-do-well son since we are told he spotted him when he was still “a long way off.” Often thought of as symbolizing our forgiving Father in heaven, this father did what Jesus did. He drew close to a sinner to influence the young man. Ignoring him, or Jesus ignoring the sinners, would keep them at a distance. To influence the young man or the sinners who ate with Jesus, they had to be near.
The parable is often understood as an illustration of God’s forgiveness. But it’s more than that—just as Jesus eating with outcasts is not just humanitarian broadmindedness. In both settings—the father forgiving and Jesus with sinners—the point of this passage is God, in Jesus, outreaching to people in need. Both Jesus and the father broke rules that forbade mixing with sinners, but they did so to save the lost.
How many of us are as solicitous of “bad” people as the father was? Or as Jesus was? Here are the sort of statements we might make when offensive persons surface in our families? Maybe you’ve said them to someone, or maybe they’ve been said to you. They do not appear in scripture but do in homes globally.
1) Are you proud of what you’ve done? We have a lot to talk about
2) I can forgive, but I can’t forget
3) You can’t just come back here & act as if nothing happened
4) You’re going to have to earn back my trust in you
5) Do you know how much you’ve hurt your mother and me? Or ‘Are you aware of how many people you’ve hurt?
6) Give him 25 years to life! No penalty is too severe for him!
BUT–“God’s ways are not our ways” (Isaiah 55:8). The father, a symbol of God, says none of the above statements (that we would be tempted to say). You or I could be the greatest sinner in the world, but God still loves us. God’s love for us is like that of a mother for her child. The hormone “oxytocin” bonds her and the child, making a mother not forget the baby at her breast. The Father’s love for us is shown in the love of Jesus for outcasts and the prodigal son’s father. However, the elder son wants none of this.
Recall that when we read scripture, it’s like holding up a mirror to ourselves. WE are each character in the stories—at some point in each tale told. Within this parable, we can be the prodigal son, the father, or the elder brother. Which one do you choose to be today? Or the next time you deal with someone who betrays you in some way, or who insults you, or breaks your heart?
It’s so easy to be the elder brother. The role comes naturally to us. We envy someone else’s good fortune when we feel neglected and deserving of more than another who is given an honor of some kind. Where’s OUR honor? Our prize? Our reward? Seeing another get privileged treatment stirs anger within us. We fail to see that one’s moment in the sun is just that—a moment. Everyone eventually has to come down from the mountaintop (another symbol of great blessing). The father in the story knew this lesson well. He knew that his son did not need condemnation but consolation. Jesus gave us this story so that we imitate the goodness and example of the father—who symbolizes the Father.
It is God who sees more in us than we see in ourselves—and who looks for us to realize we can be renewed by coming home to his embrace.