St Luke 15: 11 – 32
Then Jesus said, ‘There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, “Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.” So he divided his property between them.
A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and travelled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything.
But when he came to himself he said, “How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.’” So he set off and went to his father.
But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.
Then the son said to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.”
But the father said to his slaves, “Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!” And they began to celebrate.
‘Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. He replied, “Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.”
Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, “Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!”
Then the father said to him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.”’
Reflection
Let’s meet the older son, the one we imagine walking away at speed, appalled at the lavish feast that was being prepared. He didn’t care where he was going, anywhere to escape that raucous music.
How he despised his brother. The cheek of siphoning off so much family wealth… How dangerous the curiosity that had drawn him away from home. He has never had any moral compass. Why would a father be so stupidly lenient? Dark thoughts swirled around. The father had always favoured the younger. What a precocious fool. He had never been shown boundaries, and now, with this ridiculous show of remorse, he was still running rings round their gullible old man.
He himself had hurt his father. He’d told him straight how offensive he found the party. Those expletives were not out of order. What choice is there when someone takes leaves of their senses? Home didn’t feel like home any more. His own labour was a waste of time, year upon year of hard graft and no reward, other than keeping the farm going. Fool me, I have subsidized the self-indulgence of that wretched brother! You’ll never find me going back in the house.
Some hours later that older son was sitting out as night fell, his cloak pulled around him. He had found solace in heavy work, as many of us do when faced with challenging circumstances. His own strength had surprised him: a week’s tasks completed in half a day.
He was almost asleep when he felt the slender hand on his shoulder. Whose voice was that, familiar, but so weak. You might even say it was humble.
“I did you wrong.” Father had got tired out and the younger son decided to slip away. “I took off the ring and the robe.” His words were stumbling. “I understand how you hate me for what I’ve done these past few years. I’m not asking you for anything.”
The two kept silence under the starlight.
Prayer
Holy and beautiful God,
the joy of your welcome startles us.
They turn up,
those missing, presumed dead.
They rattle our complacency.
Their eagerness is unnerving.
Give us grace to examine our own lives:
we trudge the daily round so dutifully,
grudges dragging down our shoulders
Take our anger, our remorse.
Kindle in us the flames of joy.
Lead us also from death to life. Amen