Today, in this homily we will focus on the Gospel of Saint Luke, and the Parable of the Prodigal Son. This parable cuts us to the heart in many ways.
I remember a lady at St. Maximilian Kolbe parish in Mississauga telling me that every time the Parable of the Prodigal Son was read, her husband left church in a very agitated state. Why would this be so?
Maybe part of the reason as to why this parable unsettles us is because it speaks about inheritance and property: how many families are divided upon the death of a parent, over how the last will and testament needs to be applied. Conflicts arise over who gets the homestead, the cottage, the house, the apartment, the savings bonds.
Furthermore, this parable does not have a clear ending. Jesus does not say that they lived happily ever after…it is as if the parable is cut off in mid-narrative, leaving us hanging, so to speak.
In addition, this parable speaks about conversion and repentance. These are not very popular concepts, and it is not easy to preach about them. I must have already shared the story of how one of my former pastors introduced a petition to the prayer of the faithful that more or less asked for “the conversion of this parish”; after Mass, a parishioner came into the sacristy andreally took him to task, really chewed him out, for even suggesting that this parish needed conversion.
Still, there is probably yet another reason as to why the Parable of the Prodigal Son is unsettling. It seems to go against our human standards of fairness, atonement for sins, even common sense. Let’s take a look at some of these points. First, it was very unusual, even shameful, for the younger son to ask for his share of the inheritance before his father’s death. Even today that is the case – think of coming to your elderly mother, your aged father, and saying – Mom, Dad, I’m requesting that you sell the family farm, because I would like to cash out – I need my share of the last will and testament right now. This is in fact what the younger son did. Second, the younger son clearly squandered his inheritance on luxuries and bad living. The last straw, however, is the way that the younger son returns from his little adventure, and is received by the father – the father immediately restores his honour and authority – the ring, the robe, the sandals. The younger son goes from “curse to blessing…[experiences]restoration from spiritual death to eternal life”. This is the last straw – because it looks like the father in the parable is violating his own justice, his own fairness, his own common sense for the sake of mercy. The long-lost younger son comes back, gets a banquet– without properly atoning for his sins – without properly paying back for his sins – we want to say. It’s like, if you just declared bankruptcy, you don’t get a credit card with a $20,000 limit the next week, we want to say.
We too easily forget, when listing the sins of others, that they too have suffered – maybe of their own fault, maybe of their own choice, maybe because of their own ego – but they have suffered. The Catechism puts it this way, describing the younger son’s fault, and ultimately, his conversion: “the fascination of illusory freedom, the abandonment of the father's house; the extreme misery in which the son finds himself after squandering his fortune; his deep humiliation at finding himself obliged to feed swine, and still worse, at wanting to feed on the husks the pigs ate; his reflection on all he has lost; his repentance and decision to declare himself guilty before his father; the journey back”.
I recall a film that was made about the Parable of the Prodigal Son. In it, the younger son is hitching a ride to return home. In conversation with a driver who picked him up, he mentions that he sent a postcard ahead of him, to his father. In the postcard he writes, that if the father wants him back, he can turn on the light on the front porch. As they drive closer to the house, the whole building is lit up.
When someone is reconciled, especially when a person is reconciled with God, there is cause for great joy and happiness. Even if this takes place on a person’s deathbed, after many decades, we are to be joyful and happy. Heaven too is lit up with joy.
So we turn to the figure of the older brother. He stands in the background on Rembrandt’s picture. There must have been bad blood between the older and the younger sibling. Resentment must have been building up over time. Maybe the younger one was too happy-go-lucky, maybe he wasn’t very dependable, maybe he was frivolous, and this didn’t sit well with his serious older sibling. The older brother, on the other hand, saw himself as a hard and steady worker. He knew how to work – and he worked hard, even too hard. Notice what he says to the father – “I have been working like a slave for you”; the challenge for those of us who identify with the figure of the older son, is to learn how to accept that God provides His mercy to those whom we think don’t deserve that mercy.
I’d like to close our reflection on the Parable of the Prodigal Son with a quote from the Catechism of the Catholic Church (1439): “The beautiful robe, the ring, and the festive banquet are symbols of that new life - pure worthy, and joyful - of anyone who returns to God and to the bosom of his family, which is the Church. Only the heart Of Christ Who knows the depths of his Father's love could reveal to us the abyss of his mercy in so simple and beautiful a way”.
(Fr. Pawel Ratajczak, OMI, March 31, 2019)
