Saturday of the Second Week of Lent
There are three main characters in the Parable of the prodigal son. They are the father, the younger son and the elder son. Usually as I read this parable I find myself asking if I’m like the younger or the elder Son right now. Am I returning to the father with my tail between my legs or am I indignantly refusing to celebrate another’s return to the Lord? Today, though, I was drawn to a different character; the father.
My attraction to the father began with confusion. I was surprised that the Gospel opened with the scene of Christ eating with sinners and tax collectors and then being confronted by the Pharisees (Lk 15:1-3). Then it skips ahead 8 verses and dives into the Parable of the Prodigal Son. My initial confusion was dismissed by what Pope Benedict XVI shared in Jesus of Nazareth, “In this parable, Jesus justifies his own conduct by relating it to, and identifying it with, the Father’s. It is in the figure of the father, then, that Christ-the concrete realization of the father’s action-is placed right at the heart of the parable” (208). With this point the wisdom of leading in with the first scene broke through my thick skull. It is also this point that drew my gaze to the father in the parable.
If Christ is acting as the father does and I am to act as Christ does; then I need to read the parable with new eyes. Yes, there are times that I need to remember that I am the lost son or the self-righteous son and that the Father’s mercy can still reach me. Now, however, I’m convicted that I need to be reflecting the action of the father. Which raises the question, “How does the father act?”
In this parable, the primary action of the father is to move toward those in need. He runs out to the prodigal son (cf Luke 15:20), and he goes out to the elder son (cf 15:28). This motion is important because he goes out to both. So often it is easy for me to choose one and not the other. To bring it to the scene of Christ speaking to the Pharisees; it is easy for me to choose either the sinners and tax collectors or the Pharisees. There are time’s I want to sit at table and say good riddance to the Pharisees with their self-righteous attitudes, they are beyond help. At other times I want to stand apart from the whole scene and wonder if this could really be allowed.
What I see in the person of Christ is the bridge between the two. This Parable is addressed to the Pharisees. It ends abruptly without the elder son’s response because it was never about the fictional character (cf Luke 15:32). It was about Christ inviting the Pharisees to the table too. Not calling them self-righteous gits, but telling them, “I know you’ve always been here, now come celebrate your brothers and sisters who have come home.” Christ is trying to help the Pharisees see that they aren’t slaves, but children. As Benedict writes, Christ is calling them to “simply admit that God is right and accept the feast as their own” (211).
Somehow this is who we need to be. Christ calls us to be peacemakers in the beatitudes. I think this might be a peace that we are called to influence. We need to communicate to those who have been away that we are willing to run out and meet them. The path of conversion is difficult, but they are not walking it alone.
We also need to go to those who have never left, inviting them, in the words of Benedict, “to convert from the Law-God to the greater God, the God of love. This will not mean giving up their obedience, but rather that this obedience will flow from deeper wellsprings and will therefore be bigger, more open, and purer, but above all more humble” (211).
"Lord, we will always struggle with the ways our lives reflect the younger son’s and the older son’s flaws. We know that you come out to meet us in that mess. We also know, that with your help, we can reflect the father and stand as peacemakers for our brothers and sisters. In Jesus’ name, Amen."
- Spencer Hargadon