Recently at Mass we heard the Gospel reading of the return of the Prodigal Son, from Luke 15:11-32. Since it is a good reminder of the expression of God's steadfast love for us, here it is:
Jesus said, “A man had two sons, and the younger son said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of your estate that should come to me.’ So the father divided the property between them.
After a few days, the younger son collected all his belongings and set off to a distant country where he squandered his inheritance on a life of dissipation. When he had freely spent everything, a severe famine struck that country, 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. While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him. His son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son.’ But his father ordered his servants, ‘Quickly bring the finest robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Take the fattened calf and slaughter it. Then let us celebrate with a feast, because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and has been found.’ Then the celebration began.
Now the older son had been out in the field and, on his way back, as he neared the house, he heard the sound of music and dancing. He called one of the servants and asked what this might mean. The servant said to him, ‘Your brother has returned and your father has slaughtered the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’
He became angry, and when he refused to enter the house, his father came out and pleaded with him. He said to his father in reply, ‘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.’ He said to him, ‘My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours. But now we must celebrate and rejoice, because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.’”
In the parable, the father represents God. The younger son is a person who ignores God's will and goes off and seeks pleasures for himself or herself. The elder son is someone who has been faithful to God for years. When the younger son asks for his share of the inheritance, the father gives it. That is to say, God gives us our freedom; he gives us free will. He lets us do as we please. When we come back to Him, even after years of focusing on our own pleasures, God gladly welcomes us. The elder son, that is, the faithful servant of God, might be resentful of joyous celebration of such events, after having been so dutiful for so long. God and the angels in Heaven celebrate at such a marvelous, wonderful turn of events: he or she who was once lost, is now found. Someone who used to be concerned so much with his or her own pleasure, is now much more concerned with serving God and his or her neighbor.
Although I don't feel like I particularly identify with the elder son in the story, when we were listening to this Gospel reading that day during Mass, my tear ducts opened when I heard the father in the story say, "Son, you are always with me. All that is mine is yours." Even though I don't especially feel that the elder son in this parable resonates with me, I think that I felt so touched by these words because the words still speak to me. Furthermore, I believe I had that emotional reaction because of who in the story was speaking them. I was interpreting them as God's message to each one of us, and, consequently, to me.
I write this blog post from a position of relative comfort with my vocation, with my calling to the monastic life. I know, both intellectually as I evaluate my reasons for beginning a postulancy, as well as spiritually, just in terms of how my spirit feels nourished and warmed in being here, that I have discerned well my decision to live a monastic life here. However, already during my postulancy, there have been periods when I have felt spiritually dry. At times God has seemed to be not close to me. Sometimes I have prominently felt deprived of the spiritual nourishment and encouragement and guidance from the Holy Spirit which I felt on previous visits here. Thus when I heard, in this Gospel reading, that God is always with me, and that everything He has is mine, I knew that God has been assuring me of His presence and warmth and love and guidance, even when He has seemed far from me.
I also thought of this Gospel reading in another significant way in the last couple of weeks. Although I don't focus on the interpersonal conflict between the two brothers in this story when I hear it or read it, I think that the dynamic between them can exist to various extents in any interpersonal relationship. We are always at risk of becoming jealous of others, rather than sharing in the joy of their triumphs, whether it be their realizing their true vocation, or their overcoming a personal challenge. We always have the choice of insisting on our own perceptions of a situation, rather than trying to view circumstances from their point of view.
Accordingly, I felt a certain choice I recently had to make was clear. During Lent, we offer additional prayers. Thus in Lent we meet in the church on Sunday evenings and say Compline, which we normally don't practice in our recitation of the Liturgy of the Hours. Just before Compline starts, here at the hermitage there is a brief reading about the lives of some of the Desert Fathers. Normally the novice monk here at the hermitage reads this excerpt, but on this one particular night he wasn't going to be present, so he charged me with selecting and reading a quotation. In looking through the book before Compline, given the interpersonal tension we had just reviewed in the Gospel reading of the return of the Prodigal Son, I immediately chose the following reading when I came across it.
Two brothers would often argue. Finally, one of them said, "What are we going to do? We are always arguing." The other replied, "I know what we will do. From now on, I will argue your side, and you will argue my side." They followed this practice for the rest of their lives.
- paraphrased from "By Way of the Desert: 365 Daily Readings"
compiled and modernized by Bernard Bangley
Jesus said, “A man had two sons, and the younger son said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of your estate that should come to me.’ So the father divided the property between them.
After a few days, the younger son collected all his belongings and set off to a distant country where he squandered his inheritance on a life of dissipation. When he had freely spent everything, a severe famine struck that country, 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. While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him. His son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son.’ But his father ordered his servants, ‘Quickly bring the finest robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Take the fattened calf and slaughter it. Then let us celebrate with a feast, because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and has been found.’ Then the celebration began.
Now the older son had been out in the field and, on his way back, as he neared the house, he heard the sound of music and dancing. He called one of the servants and asked what this might mean. The servant said to him, ‘Your brother has returned and your father has slaughtered the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’
He became angry, and when he refused to enter the house, his father came out and pleaded with him. He said to his father in reply, ‘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.’ He said to him, ‘My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours. But now we must celebrate and rejoice, because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.’”
In the parable, the father represents God. The younger son is a person who ignores God's will and goes off and seeks pleasures for himself or herself. The elder son is someone who has been faithful to God for years. When the younger son asks for his share of the inheritance, the father gives it. That is to say, God gives us our freedom; he gives us free will. He lets us do as we please. When we come back to Him, even after years of focusing on our own pleasures, God gladly welcomes us. The elder son, that is, the faithful servant of God, might be resentful of joyous celebration of such events, after having been so dutiful for so long. God and the angels in Heaven celebrate at such a marvelous, wonderful turn of events: he or she who was once lost, is now found. Someone who used to be concerned so much with his or her own pleasure, is now much more concerned with serving God and his or her neighbor.
Although I don't feel like I particularly identify with the elder son in the story, when we were listening to this Gospel reading that day during Mass, my tear ducts opened when I heard the father in the story say, "Son, you are always with me. All that is mine is yours." Even though I don't especially feel that the elder son in this parable resonates with me, I think that I felt so touched by these words because the words still speak to me. Furthermore, I believe I had that emotional reaction because of who in the story was speaking them. I was interpreting them as God's message to each one of us, and, consequently, to me.
I write this blog post from a position of relative comfort with my vocation, with my calling to the monastic life. I know, both intellectually as I evaluate my reasons for beginning a postulancy, as well as spiritually, just in terms of how my spirit feels nourished and warmed in being here, that I have discerned well my decision to live a monastic life here. However, already during my postulancy, there have been periods when I have felt spiritually dry. At times God has seemed to be not close to me. Sometimes I have prominently felt deprived of the spiritual nourishment and encouragement and guidance from the Holy Spirit which I felt on previous visits here. Thus when I heard, in this Gospel reading, that God is always with me, and that everything He has is mine, I knew that God has been assuring me of His presence and warmth and love and guidance, even when He has seemed far from me.
I also thought of this Gospel reading in another significant way in the last couple of weeks. Although I don't focus on the interpersonal conflict between the two brothers in this story when I hear it or read it, I think that the dynamic between them can exist to various extents in any interpersonal relationship. We are always at risk of becoming jealous of others, rather than sharing in the joy of their triumphs, whether it be their realizing their true vocation, or their overcoming a personal challenge. We always have the choice of insisting on our own perceptions of a situation, rather than trying to view circumstances from their point of view.
Accordingly, I felt a certain choice I recently had to make was clear. During Lent, we offer additional prayers. Thus in Lent we meet in the church on Sunday evenings and say Compline, which we normally don't practice in our recitation of the Liturgy of the Hours. Just before Compline starts, here at the hermitage there is a brief reading about the lives of some of the Desert Fathers. Normally the novice monk here at the hermitage reads this excerpt, but on this one particular night he wasn't going to be present, so he charged me with selecting and reading a quotation. In looking through the book before Compline, given the interpersonal tension we had just reviewed in the Gospel reading of the return of the Prodigal Son, I immediately chose the following reading when I came across it.
Two brothers would often argue. Finally, one of them said, "What are we going to do? We are always arguing." The other replied, "I know what we will do. From now on, I will argue your side, and you will argue my side." They followed this practice for the rest of their lives.
- paraphrased from "By Way of the Desert: 365 Daily Readings"
compiled and modernized by Bernard Bangley
I really like the reading you chose from "By Way of the Desert..." - Thank you. Almighty God's providential love is truly perfect.
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