Some characters in the movies are not really believable. No one is really like Iron Man or Wonder Woman. (Well, somebody might be sorta like Wonder Woman.) On the other hand, there are movie characters that you feel comfortable with. Atticus in To Kill a Mockingbird is someone you would like to know. There weren’t movies when Jesus was around but he did tell stories. We call them parables. The parables are not populated with larger than life characters but with people that we can relate to, identify with. Jesus told the parables in such a way that we have to complete them, figure out what they mean for ourselves. The parables don’t have any pat explanation but depend on our willingness to identify with them in order for them to make sense. In St. Luke chapter 15 Jesus tells the famous story usually called “the prodigal son.” It might be better named “a father and his two sons.” To explore the depth of meaning in this parable requires that we identify with the actors in the little drama that Jesus describes.
We can identify with the younger son. All of us at one time or another have been as self-absorbed as the boy was in asking for his inheritance. By doing so he was basically telling his father to “drop dead.” If you were dead, pop, I’d have my money and then a good time. We might not literally tell people to drop dead but we can relate to the selfish way the younger son treated his father. What I want is more important than what you want. We justify treating people shabbily by saying “I gotta do what I gotta do.” We can also identify with the younger son’s desire to have a good time. If I do this I’ll be happy. If I hang around with those people I’ll be cool. If I drink this or eat this or smoke that, then I’ll feel good. We can relate to the fact that the younger son wasted what he had. “He squandered his inheritance” according to the parable. Maybe we don’t have an inheritance to squander but we do waste time. Every day God gives us 86,400 seconds. How many of them are simply frittered away on TV or cat videos? Instead of using our time wisely we loaf through life. Much of the younger son’s behavior feels familiar.
We must also relate to the fact that when he had no other choice he tried to wiggle his way back into the family. “They are my family. Don’t they have to take me in?”
We can relate to the older son. Haven’t we all felt at times that we were being taken for granted, presumed upon, overlooked? Haven’t we gotten our feathers ruffled because we have been working hard and no one seems to notice? Don’t we at times want some thanks, some recognition, some appreciation for all we have done? We try to do what’s right and all we get is grief. Doesn’t it often seem that those who aren’t doing half what we do get more rewards? Think of the child who does one good thing after a day of cutting up is highly praised whereas the child who always cooperates and does what she is told is barely noticed. And we all know people at work who take credit for things that someone else really did. Experiences like these can create a sense of rivalry. And rivalry, as the older son exemplifies, tends to make us suspicious of the motives of others. We become quick to take offense. And from offense, resentments build up. We can identify with what the older son was feeling. The elder is invited to get over his resentments by experiencing trust and gratitude. “You are here with me always,” the father says. The older son has to trust that the Father truly does want him home, truly does value him, truly does find him worthy. Conversion for him happens when he feels accepted and loved. From trust, gratitude arises. “Everything I have is yours.” We resent when we don’t feel like we’re getting our just desserts. We feel gratitude when we acknowledge that all that I am and have is a gift of love. We can get so worried about what the other person has that we miss how blessed we are.
Finally, we understand the father in the parable. Don’t we all have family members that drive us crazy? Haven’t we had to practice tough love at times when others are acting out? All too often aren’t we the ones who have to reach out to the other. We can relate to the father since we too have to have our hearts broken as we helplessly watch those whom we love make mistakes. And we have been so distracted by the problem child that we neglect others. We can relate as well in having our motives judged, our efforts misunderstood, our desires thwarted. And, yes, family unity which we prize so highly can be fractured in ways that make you want to cry.
So, yes, the people that Jesus described would fit right into the southside of Chicago. What lessons can we draw from the parable? Two points jump out at us. First, forgiveness. The father has to forgive the wayward son. The image of the father running to meet his son is the very epitome of what forgiveness meant to Jesus. The father doesn’t wait for the apology. He doesn’t demand atonement. He doesn’t expect recompense. He is on the lookout to forgive. He is yearning to forgive. The elder son has to forgive his father’s thoughtlessness and neglect. The younger son has to forgive his older brother’s self-righteousness and arrogance. For that family and every family to move toward unity will require forgiveness. The second lesson: festivity. The father said, “We must celebrate and rejoice.” There is something necessary about being a people who express our joy at God’s love by having good cheer. No more sour and dour Christians. No more gloom and doom. We might be as big a mess as the father and his two sons but we how ourselves children of our heavenly Father by celebrating our happiness that we have a God who loves us no matter what, that we are accepted just as we are, that joy today is mine. As we celebrate this fourth Sunday of Lent, Laetare Sunday, Rejoice Sunday, we can join the prodigal family in the parable and remembering the words of the gospel hymn: I told Satan, get thee behind, joy today is mine.
