The Parable of the Prodigal Son is one of the more well known stories out of Sacred Scripture. Most practicing Christians will know this story. The only problem with having such a well known story is that it is easy to forget what the main point of the story is. Since this is a parable, Jesus clearly meant for us to learn something important from this story. We need to remind ourselves what this tale is all about.
To help us do that, I would like to suggest that we use an exercise that St. Ignatius of Loyola wrote about. St. Ignatius was the founder of the Jesuit religious order and lived in the sixteenth century. As this order was beginning to take shape, St. Ignatius began writing down various exercises that people could do to help strengthen their spiritual life. Just as we need to do physical exercises to strengthen our muscles, so we can do exercises to strengthen our spiritual life. St. Ignatius put all these together into a book, now known as the Spiritual Exercises. One of these exercises involves taking a Biblical passage and picturing yourself in the story. You can picture yourself as one of the main characters, or simply as a bystander or a member of the crowd. You then let yourself become part of the story, imagining what it would have been like to be there, or to see these events happen with your own eyes. One is encouraged to take the time to imagine what we see, feel, hear, smell, or taste as we go through the story. A person might even go beyond the story and consider what we might say to one of the other characters or how we would interact with them.
Since there are three main characters in today's parable, a person could choose any of them and have plenty to reflect on. For this exercise today, however, I want us to focus on the older son: the one who stayed with the father. First, let's picture ourselves as the older son, when the younger son tells the father he is leaving.
Picture the scene of the younger son coming to the father. These two can be anyone you want them to be: maybe it's your own father and another sibling; maybe it's another friend or family member talking to God the Father; or maybe it's just new people you've never met before. This younger, brother, or sister, or friend comes up to the father and says “Father give me the share of your estate that should come to me”. What is your reaction to this? This is not an ordinary conversation between a father and a son, like a teen asking for twenty bucks to go do something. This request is tantamount to saying, “Dad, I wish you were dead! Give me what you were planing to give me for an inheritance so I can just leave!”
As the older son or daughter, what are your feelings? What is your reaction? Your sibling just gave a great insult to a parent. Do you feel anger? He or she should never have said such a thing. Do you feel embarrassment over the childishness of this demand? Perhaps you feel sad that it all had to come this; or sad that this sibling is leaving. Maybe you feel happy or relieved that he or she is leaving after so much stress and frustration.
As you come to grips with your emotions over this demand for the inheritance, you then watch in silence as your father agrees to split the inheritance between the two of you. You feel … what? Anger? Shock? Sadness? Did you expect your father to act differently? Did you expect a fight or an argument or perhaps a flat out refusal to cater to such selfish and immature demand? Do you say something to him, or do you simply leave things unsaid? If you have something to say to the father or to the sibling, go ahead and say it now.
Time goes on and despite whatever feelings you had about the fateful day, you have decided to stay where you are at and continue to work on the family land. Many months have passed since the younger sibling took off for a distant land to seek his or her fortune. Do you ever think about him or her? Maybe your just too busy to give that prodigal sibling another thought. You can't help but notice, however, that your father spends the better part of the evenings simply sitting and staring off in the distance down the road, like he expects someone to come down the road at any moment.
It's the end of a long day, and you start heading back to the house. As you near the house, the sounds of lively music, laughter, and dancing tell you that a great festival is underway. Surprised, you ask one of the servants who is coming from the house what's going on. “Your brother has returned and your father has slaughtered the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.” … What?! Whatever you may have thought or felt the last time you saw him or her is long past. All you remember now is the hurt that was caused by that last demand for money and the hasty departure. You have seen the hurt that has been on the face and in the eyes of your father all this time. The hurt that you have felt over all that has happened. Then a thought occurs to you. Wait a minute, your father has been hurt by this too. Dad has been suffering heartache everyday for the past several months. How could he, of all people, possibly forgive him for all that hurt that he has caused; possibly forgive her for all the pain that she has caused? To welcome back this self-centered, ungrateful, conceited, brat after all that. And to top it all off, your father has never even thanked you for staying around and working so hard. Not even a celebration of your own with your friends. You can feel yourself reaching the boiling point.
Your father sends out servants to come and bring you back for the celebration, but you flat out refuse. Eventually he comes out to meet you. You tell him exactly what is on your mind. After all that you have done for him, where's the thanks? But now this son of his – this daughter of his – comes back and now the party starts.
You're not really sure what to expect for a reaction from your father, but you're definitely not expecting this. “You are here with me always,” he tells you. “Everything I have is yours. But now we must celebrate and rejoice”. You look into his eyes. He's worried about whether you're coming in or not, but you realize that there is a joy there that was not there this morning. That joy hasn't been there for many months. Your brother or sister or whoever you've chosen in mind may have been physically gone to you. But to your father, his child has been dead: never to return. But now that child is back, and he can scarcely contain his joy. You stand quietly for a moment and then he invites you back in. Do you accept the invitation, or do you stay outside? That choice is up to you.
There are many different ways that we can look at this story. You can always look through this again. Maybe you're the father, learning to forgive. Maybe you're the younger son, who needs to be forgiven. Or maybe you're the older son, learning what forgiveness means. But the point is, we need to understand how powerful God's forgiveness is. The Mission of the Catholic Church is to bring God's mercy to those in need. Let us not miss that opportunity.
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