Saint John Paul II once said that if we are looking for the best description as to how much God loves us, we can find it in the parable of the prodigal Son. The parable of the Prodigal Son can also be our own personal story as well. Because it’s a very powerful account, it’s so hard not to find oneself in one of the characters of the story if one does a serious self-reflection. The younger son – rebellious, greedy, self-centered and full of himself – decided to go to his father and ask for his share of inheritance. This bold action of the younger son was a total No-No of the Jewish tradition of his time. For them, and still for some cultures today, to ask for one’s share of inheritance while your parents are still alive is just like telling them, “I want you dead right now because I want to have my share already.” There’s no greater pain for a parent to have than knowing that your son or daughter wants you dead because he/she already wants to enjoy the inheritance. But, because of the great love of his Father, the Father gave in – swallowing up the shame and the total disrespect of his son. The younger son, not mindful and sensitive as to what it took for his Father to have all those resources, squandered everything to all kinds of immorality until he found himself eating the food of the pigs. St. Luke couldn’t emphasize it more, with great clarity and impact, how low the younger son found himself when he described him as eating the pods of the pigs. The pigs are the lowest and the most unclean animal in the Jewish tradition, so for one to eat the food of the pigs meant that one had reached the very bottom of life. Realizing what he did to his life and that he was at the very bottom of his life, “he came up to his senses.” This is very crucial to the story. Coming up to our senses is the first step towards conversion – it’s only when we come to our senses and realize the messiness of our own lives that we will take the first step to change for the better. No matter how low we find ourselves, even if it is at the very bottom of life — no matter how many times one has squandered the time, opportunity, the love and care of God and others – one must be able to reach that point of coming to one’s senses in order to find the road back home. At times, because of the gravity of one’s sinfulness and the unimaginable pain one has inflicted to others, there’s that tendency not to consider oneself as worthy of being called son or daughter again, just like what the younger son did. But, what the younger son didn’t know and what we don’t know at times is that the love and mercy of our Father is beyond our imagining. The Father had been waiting every single day at the porch for the return of his Son. But, we can’t enjoy the love, mercy and forgiveness of God until we take it upon ourselves to start the journey just like the younger Son. Taking the journey back home is to reclaim our own identity, to find again wholeness in our own lives.
Most of the time we relate ourselves to the experience of the younger son – as a recipient of God’s love and mercy. But, if we try to look closely the character of the older son, we might also be able to relate to him. It was mentioned in the gospel that the older son was the dutiful son; he remained with his father, diligently working in his fields, but really never felt or considered himself to be part of the family. Listen again to his words, “Look, all these years I served you and not once did I disobey your orders; yet you never gave me even a young goat to feast on with my friends. But, when your son who swallowed up your property with prostitutes returns, for him you
slaughter the fattened calf.’
Words of resentment, anger and pain. In fact, other translations provide a stronger word/translation to the line: “all these years I have served you”; they use this translation: “All these years I have enslaved for you.” He never considered himself to be a son of his father but, rather, a slave, a servant. In the same way, he never considered himself as a brother to his younger sibling. Remember what he told his father, “that son of yours” . . not “that brother of mine.” Like the older son, who remained with his father, obedient to his responsibilities as a son, one can also find ourselves in our practice of faith purely out of obligation, attending Mass and faithfully doing all those required of us, like confession, but never having felt as a son or daughter of God. The Father lost both sons — one to a foreign land, and the other to a foreign heart. What we see in a story of the older son is that we don’t have to physically leave home in order to be lost and estranged to our loved ones. The older son, without leaving home, was actually thousands of miles away from home; like his younger brother, he was submerged in selfishness and resentments. We may stray apart from God, spiritually or emotionally, even sinfully in wanton abandon, or we may do our duty in a cold, calculated and self-righteous way. In any case, we can always come to ourselves and find our way home knowing that the shepherd comes in search of us, and we come home only because he found us first. To belong to God’s family is to experience the joy of it and not just doing things out of obligation or the fear that we might end up somewhere other than heaven. Joy, my friends, is a measure of being convinced that we are here because we celebrate who we are as a son and daughter of God. A simple test of this is by asking ourselves: What’s really my disposition whenever I attend Mass? Am I open to the Holy Spirit to transform me? Do I get upset or agitated whenever the Mass goes a little bit longer than usual? It’s about time that one moves from simply doing things out of obligation to a real personal encounter with God. The thing is, if one is just going through the rhythm simply out of obligation, we will find ourselves one day complaining to God just like the older son – Why is my life not joyful? I’ve done everything right, I never left home. I did what was externally expected of me, but why are people more blessed than me? Some of them aren’t even as faithful and obedient as I am? And, just like the Father responded to his older Son, God will say: “What are you talking about? Everything that I have is yours, but you wouldn’t claim your identity; you aren’t able to fully possess or enjoy what you have because you never really exerted effort to be part of the family — you’re simply doing it out of obligation.”
St. Luke didn’t tell us whether the older son had a change of heart and joined in the celebration. That detail is up to us to answer. If you are that older son, will you have a change of heart? Will you enter into the Father’s house and reclaim your identity, or will you simply stay outside the house and nurse your resentments and anger? Are you in, or are you out? – Fr. Cary