The Fourth Sunday in Lent (Fr. Robinson)

Of all of our Lord’s parables, the Parable of the Prodigal Father is my favorite. The story of a young man who asks his father for his inheritance, goes and lives in a far country, squandering his inheritance in reckless living, and then returning home, asking to be taken back as one of his father’s servants, is a poignant story that when reading it I am always moved. The Parable of the Prodigal Father is the Gospel in story form. Is this Parable of the Prodigal Father one of your favorites as well?

Have I made a mistake? Did I say Prodigal Father? Is it the Parable of the Prodigal Father or the Prodigal Son? You know, Jesus never gave it a title. As far as I can tell, the word prodigal never occurs in the story. The dictionary definition of prodigal is recklessly wasteful. Then obviously we should call it the Parable of the Prodigal Son. But there’s another definition of prodigal as extravagant, profuse in giving, exceedingly abundant. Doesn’t that describe the father? He was exceedingly extravagant in his love for his son. If we use that definition, shouldn’t this be called the Parable of the Prodigal Father? In the end, isn’t that the lesson we want most to learn from the parable, that while our sin is great, God’s forgiveness is even greater?

And then there’s the elder brother. He doesn’t appear until later in the story, but aren’t we supposed to gain some insight into our own lives from the elder brother? Isn’t he a prodigal, too? While he doesn’t squander his inheritance in reckless living, he does squander his inheritance by never really knowing how much he’s loved by his father, and in that doesn’t he also waste his father’s love? So maybe we might call it the Parable of the Prodigal Elder Brother.

It’s the Parable of the Prodigals. With whom do you identify in the parable? Are you running from responsibility? Are you wasting your inheritance as a child of God, turning your back on your loving heavenly Father, for whatever reason? Or have you been there, done that, and returned, accepting the love of your heavenly Father? 

Maybe you identify with the prodigal father. Of course, he stands for God. But he’s also a wonderful example of how we should treat others. Maybe it gets even closer to home than that. Perhaps you have a child who has run from your love and returned and you’ve welcomed him or her with open arms. Or perhaps the child hasn’t yet returned and you yearn for the opportunity to welcome your child back. So you identify with the prodigal father.

There’s part of us that really does identify with the elder brother. There’re a lot of good qualities in the elder brother. He’s responsible. He knows what’s expected of him and he does it. When the fields need to be planted, they’re planted. When the crops need to be harvested, they’re harvested. His father relies on him. He doesn’t have to go behind him and make sure he did a good job. He trusts him, because he knows he can trust him. Those things that are essential for the family business to prosper are done by this man. And he does it all without expecting commendation. Society needs elder brothers. We couldn’t function without them. If you want something done and done well, you don’t go to the prodigal son; you go to the elder brother.

And there’s something else that we like about the elder brother. He leads a morally upright life. He lives in the way his father taught him to live. The younger son does everything his father taught him not to do, but not the elder brother. We don’t have many morally upright people in our society today. There are all kinds of examples of reckless living, but the person who strives to live according to the way he was taught from childhood is rare. Society needs desperately the example of the elder brother. Good qualities worthy of emulation. There’s part of us that cries, “Go for it, elder brother, you’re right on the mark!”

But there’s a great sadness about him. He really is prodigal, for he doesn’t realize in his life that he truly has the “good life." He’s always been at home, in the presence of his father, but he’s lived without joy. He hasn’t known how wonderful he’s had it. There’s always been in the back of his mind that his brother had the really good life, doing what he wanted to do, no responsibilities. His anger was always just beneath the surface, and when his brother returned home and was accepted back freely, and a party no less was thrown for him, that anger came quickly to the surface. 

The elder brother all too often characterizes the attitude of religious people. We try to live a disciplined life, and sometimes we look at those who do exactly what they want to do whenever they want to do it and we secretly, perhaps subconsciously, think they’re the ones who really have the good life. It comes to the surface when someone who hasn’t lived a Christian life has a deathbed conversion, and you’ll hear a Christian say, “Well, he had the best of both worlds!” 

The elder brother also has a huge moral problem. He doesn’t recognize his relationship to his brother. “This son of yours,” is how he refers to him. And he sulks outside, not going into the party. He couldn’t rejoice that his brother had returned to the fold, that he had repented and changed his life. He saw himself as superior, not recognizing his own faults. That, brothers and sisters, is a big one for us Christians. How easy it is for us to pass judgment on others. We can see the splinter in someone else’s eye, but not notice the log in our own. Jesus never condones the sins of the flesh, but neither does he see them as the worst sins. Jesus is always much harder on the sins of the spirit, that sense of moral superiority so prevalent in the religious people of that time and of every age. But elder brothers, take hope. The loving Father stands ready to receive you back as well. Join the party!

It’s the Parable of the Prodigals. With whom do you identify? Perhaps you’re a mixture. Let’s seek the love of our heavenly Father and show forth that love in our lives.