A Reflection for Saturday of the Second Week of Lent
Find today’s readings here.
“This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.”
Today’s Gospel is a classic. Most people, regardless of faith background, are familiar with the story of the prodigal son. The term itself has become a staple in pop culture. Fans of “The Office” will remember Michael Scott’s hilarious pronunciation blunder during his reunion with Jim Halpert in season three: “Prog…the progidal…my son returns!”
It’s easy to think of the parable very simply. It could be about the character arc of someone who was lost and found their way again. It could also be a playbook for how to show mercy. And those interpretations would not be incorrect.
But as I read the parable this time, I thought about it as the telling of a type of grace and forgiveness so extreme, it falls beyond human comprehension.
I would submit that the majority of us identify most closely with the older son in this story. We likely have not “squandered [our] inheritance on a life of dissipation,” like the younger son, nor do we necessarily possess some sort of massive inheritance to give away, like the father. Most of us are out in the world, working, trying to do right by our friends and family. And we get upset or frustrated when things seem unfair.
The older son is relatable because he has a very human reaction to learning about the party being thrown in his brother’s honor: “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 returns who swallowed up your property with prostitutes, for him you slaughter the fattened calf.” His father’s reaction to the prodigal son’s return feels like a slap in the face. It is clear that the older son does not understand it.
And I feel I would have reacted similarly. I’m human. Despite my best attempts to give second chances and not judge folks on their worst mistakes, these thoughts of frustration and doubt would have also swirled around my head. I too would have struggled to understand how the father immediately reacted with joy.
This predicament is a representation of our attempt to recognize the mystery of God. We are not necessarily meant to understand. We are meant to try to emulate it.
And in striving to emulate God’s love, it is important to note that the father did not condone the prodigal son’s actions in any way. His mistakes were not without consequence. I’d be willing to bet that there was a stern “talking to” that followed the celebration. This point is essential, because love that allows one party to be walked over and disrespected is not love at all. But in the moment of the prodigal son’s return, unconditional love matters more than scolding. Forgiveness matters more. Making someone feel like they belong and have a home matters the most.
This parable presents an ideal to strive toward. We resonate with the older brother, as good people who work honorably, but fall victim to human emotions. When that happens, it is even more important that we try to make meaning out of these moments. The act of someone immediately forgiving and welcoming a person who has thoroughly wronged them is difficult to wrap our heads around. That is why the parable is meant to teach us a lesson and serve as a beacon.
An ambitious basketball player may model their game after Michael Jordan. Same goes for a young swimmer and Michael Phelps. In the sport of giving grace and making people feel like they belong, we look to this story. While we may never reach that status, we have a model to which we can aspire.
I was particularly struck by the way the Pharisees and scribes complain about Jesus’ actions, before he shares the parable: “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” In a world of division, it is more important than ever to drown out critical voices and choose grace. Even if we come up short, choose it again. The effort is always worth our while.
