Prodigal forgiveness

 Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

 Whenever I have read this gospel story of the two sons and their prodigal father, I have tried to imagine what the mother would be saying. So, here’s my attempt to voice her thoughts and emotions. … I give thanks to Free Bible Images website for these wonderful images that tell the story of the father with two sons. 

Mom says:

My name is Esther. I have two sons, and they are as different as they can be. Samuel is the older boy and he is much like his Dad, Reuben. They both work hard to manage the land and the animals. There is a lot to do, so we also have some servants to help us, but Dad and Sam are always involved in fixing this, taking care of that, planting this crop, harvesting that one.

Eli is a dear child, but he is very different. He has a troubled spirit. Eli has struggled his whole life and he just can’t find a place for himself on our land. He thinks we are wealthy and that he is important because we have so much. He doesn’t understand yet that we have to work hard to keep what we have.

One day a few months ago, Eli went to Reuben and said he wanted to leave our land. He complained he wasn’t happy here, and he wanted to go to the city and make a name for himself. He demanded – imagine, he demanded – that we give him his share of the family wealth.

Reuben and I were stunned! We don’t have wealth in the form of spendable coin; our wealth is in the land, in the crops, in the buildings, in the animals. Rueben and I prayed and talked about it. We know Eli well, and realized he wouldn’t be happy until he learned what we do to have this land. So, we scraped together some coins; we had to sell a few animals to get it; and we gave those coins to Eli.

I cried as he walked away, so proud of himself, so sure he was going to make a lot of money on his own. And Reuben had to look away so we couldn’t see his tears. It wasn’t long before he went into the barn. He was so angry, and so sad at the same time. I prayed for him, and for us.

Reuben and I talked about Eli. You’re too soft on him, Reuben told me. You expect too much from him. He’s still young, I countered. We were both right, and we were both wrong.

As the months went by, friends told us they had seen Eli. He was at a party, with a young woman on his arm. They told us they had seen him gambling and drinking. He was losing a lot of money. 

Most recently, we heard he was working for some gentiles, feeding their pigs. Can you imagine! We raised our boys to be good Jews, and Eli is feeding pigs! Unclean! Shameful! I pray for him all day, every day.

In the meantime, Reuben and Sam are working extra hard, because there are only two of them. They are sad that Eli is gone, and still so angry that their work lasts from sun-up to sun-down and more. Reuben wants us to see the anger, of course, but I see him looking down the road, every day, hopeful, to see if Eli is coming home. He is sad, so sad. He prays, too, that Eli will come home.

I am sad, too. His place in our home is a void that never gets filled. I have to stop myself all the time from setting four places for our meals. And I, too, spend a lot of time, looking out the door to see if my little Eli is coming home.

One day, there he was! He was so sad, so fearful of coming home. I saw his mouth moving, like he was talking to himself. His clothes were rags, his feet were bare, and he smelled! Oh, he smelled like livestock, especially like swine. And I was so happy to see him. My prayers had finally been answered.

Before I could make it out of the door, I saw Reuben running down the road. I have no idea how his tired old body could run, but he was running. He had pulled up his robes to free his feet, and he was running. Then I saw him grab our son, hold him tightly to him, and hug him as if he’d never let go of him again.

I heard Eli try to speak, but Reuben spoke over him, calling to one of the servants to prepare a feast to welcome our lost boy home. Other servants prepared a bath, a ritual mikveh, for him, to help him know he was welcome and forgiven. And we gave him new clothes. We wanted him to feel like a king!

Unfortunately, Samuel was watching and became frustrated, angry, and jealous. “Mom! Dad!” he yelled at us. “Why have you never given me such a feast!? I have stayed and worked faithfully all this time, never causing you any trouble. Don’t I deserve a feast, too?”

Reuben replied gently, “Oh, my son. I am so proud of you and the way you have helped your mother and me. You have worked so hard, never causing us any trouble. Please understand that your brother needs us right now; he needs to know he is forgiven. Please help me welcome him home again. Tomorrow, we will figure out what his return means, but for today, let’s just enjoy the party.”

I watched Samuel sulk away, but later he realized he was quite hungry, and he came to join the feast. He listened to his brother tell the stories of how he lost his money, and then, almost lost his soul. Samuel told us how, deep inside himself, he knew we were praying for him. He knew he could at least get a meal and a job with the servants. And he knew he hated feeding pigs! So, he decided it was time to come home and ask for forgiveness.

I am weeping with joy as I tell this story, I’m so happy to see my Eli again.

… This parable is often called the Prodigal Son. The word prodigal means wastefully extravagant. The son wasted his fortune.  The word prodigal can also apply to the father, as he forgave the younger son and welcomed him home with extravagant displays of love and forgiveness. I believe it also applies to the mother, even though Jesus didn’t include her in the story.

We all know brokenness. I have rarely met a family that didn’t have a history or a present experience of brokenness. And I know those same families would welcome home the lost person, the lost family. While it might take some time to heal, they would begin the process of reconciliation with asking for forgiveness, and giving it, maybe grudgingly at first, but eventually wholeheartedly.

Isn’t it wonderful to know that with God, there is no grudgingly – that the forgiveness we receive comes even before we ask for it? All we have to do is turn our faces toward home, toward God, and there it is, a welcome home, a hug, drawing us to our feet, and telling all to prepare the feast, because we have come back to God at last. Amen