Fourth Sunday of Lent C
March 10. 2013
Another very tough gospel story. Thanks, Cathy, for illustrating the concern of a parent from your own experience. It's something I can relate to, but an awareness I never had as a priest. Or at least, the heightened awareness that came with having our own kids was way beyond the abstract thoughts of that earlier phase of my life...
It's about the merciful father: true. But I'm surprised at the elaborate detail in describing the plight of the younger one, and the way the two sons are presented as totally opposite.
The younger first:
...and he found himself in dire need.
So he hired himself out to one of the local citizens
who sent him to his farm to tend the swine.
And he longed to eat his fill of the pods on which the swine fed,
but nobody gave him any.
Coming to his senses he thought,
'How many of my father's hired workers
have more than enough food to eat,
but here am I, dying from hunger.
I shall get up and go to my father and I shall say to him,
"Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you.
I no longer deserve to be called your son;
treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers."'
So he got up and went back to his father...
It is shocking to realise that in this account the younger son showed no sign of genuine sorrow. He came to his senses only when he hit rock bottom. If he didn't do something he would starve to death in the pigsty, so he decided it would be worth the risk to go back and beg his father for a job, any menial job so long as he could eat.
What is surprising is that the story offers no excuse for this selfish behaviour. There is nothing good about this young man. The assessment of the older brother is dead right. He's a spoilt brat.
Okay, the story is not about repentence, but about forgiveness. So be it. Perhaps the conclusion is that the merciful father will see nobody damned to outer darkness forever. The young fellow's plea is not even listened to; we have to make merry just because he's back.
***
The older brother, the good and faithful servant, on the other hand is presented as truly warped, for he shows a mean streak, a self-righteous selfishness that has habitually harboured the notion that he is owed his rewards.
In context, in Luke's gospel, this one represents the pharisees. In fact the story was designed and created to confront those self-righteous faithful ones. If there is a young tear-away in all of us, there is also a pharisee. Whether he wears the fancy robes and seeks the first places, or just prides himself in the satisfaction of being so faithful, so earnest, so disciplined and dedicated, in this story he comes in for severe criticism.
Another surprise is that the story stops short of any indication of an outcome. There is no report that the younger one settled down and became a devoted son, nor that the older one went into the party and was moved to compassion for the emaciated wreck of a brother, and learnt there's more to life than being faithful to duty.
This keeps the focus on the father, but it also leaves us with work to do in putting ourselves in the picture and learning the lessons it contains. It would be a mistake to take this story in isolation as if it were the primary template of how we should treat others, particularly if we are in positions of authority where we are responsible for justice, and also fairness to those who may have been injured by any bad behaviour of our 'sons'.
I'm afraid this has been the thinking of some of those who have been found wanting in justice and fairness, showing mercy and even protecting their own to the neglect of actual and potential victims. In fact this 'lovely story' is actually another tough ask.