It is a very natural progression that the young are eager to leave home, to go their own way, and be free from family and rules. All take flight from the comforts and confines of home. Yet, when independence leads to rejection of the values, which the familiar spent much effort helping each to acquire, often the results can be less than desirable. A positive grounding in life and a solid foundation of values should enable continued learning in the world. Learning which prompts questioning the known, without promoting devastation. On the other hand because one has consistently played by all the learned rules does not create an entitlement nor a demand for rewards. There is a true balancing act between grounding and freedom. There is no shame, or should be no shame, in returning home for comfort or consolation. Although the hypocrisy of ritual compliance in expectations of rewards might be shameful.

St. Luke tell us that the Pharisees and scribes, the conservatives of Jesus' era, were grumbling about how Jesus would welcome sinners and tax collectors, even dine with these undesirables. Jesus evidently over hears their murmuring and tells them a story of a man who had two sons. One son demands his inheritance then goes off and lives a lavish life, spending all the property given to him. The older son stays at home and awaits "the share of the property that will belong" to him. Yet, both sons were given their portion of the father's prosperity.

The younger son continued to decline until he had fallen so low that he took a job feeding pigs, which seemed to eat better than he did. For a Jew tending something unclean, such as swine, would result in total rejection by the Jewish community. Finally, in his hunger and destitution, the son decided to return to his Father's house. The young man knew that workers for his father had bread enough to eat. He thought that if he confessed his sins, at least he might be able to get an honorable job working for his father.

The father from some distance notices that this young man was returning home. The old man runs to meet his son. This was odd because one with power did not ever run to embrace the weak, but the thrill of the dead returning to life, the lost being found, over whelmed the father with joy. The contrite younger son confesses his sins to the father. The father called his servants to clothe the lad in a robe, a sign of dignity and honor, and a ring, which was a sign of authority, and sandals for his feet, for only servants did not wear shoes. This young man was not a servant, but a beloved of the father. Then the father commanded a feast in his son's honor.

The hustle and bustle of the preparation, and the excitement of the party reached the elder son. When the servants told him that his brother was home and their father having a feast in honor of the prodigal's return, this elder son began to grumble like the Pharisees and scribes to whom Jesus told the story. The son that stayed home could not understand nor appreciate a celebration of a sinner's return. The older brother had followed all the rules, yet not even a small feast was given to him for his fidelity. The anger and self-centeredness prevented him from joining the party for his brother.

In the story, Jesus showed them two types of sinners and two types of repentance: sincere and hollow. The younger son openly and humbly admits his sin to the father, while the older brother is anchored in self-righteousness. The Good News from the story is that G_d's great love extends to all sinners, the honest as well as the hypocritical. The love of G_d for his creation endures the humiliation of both rejection and ritual compliance. All Heaven exults joyously when there is true repentance, as G_d desires daughters and sons, not servants. G_d runs to us, where we are, as we are, not wishing to dwell on our past, but seeking to celebrate and begin a lasting relationship, a new Creation. As we continue in Lent, give thanks to the One, who looks down the road for us, longing for our return. Reflect on the One, who has His arms open to us always, whether we deserve it or not.

Pax,

jbt