the un-prodigal child(ren)

show of hands: who remembers the story about the prodigal son? i've heard it what feels like a gazillion times. even though gazillion isn't a real number. it's a beautiful depiction of God's love for us, about being lost and then found, amazing grace, etc. etc. etc.

as of late, my mom has described her feelings towards my brother as the father's from that story. even though the son walked away and fell apart, the father still waited for him. he still wanted his son back. she told me that, unless you're a parent, there's really no way to compare a connection like that. she explained that, in parenthood, all bets are off - you would do anything for them. and of course, the father rejoiced when he got his son back.

since i don't have a child, i don't know that i can relate. and since i haven't deserted my family, i can't relate to the prodigal son either. the person i've always understood on some level, however, is the faithful son. which probably shouldn't be the case, because he's not the point of the story. also, i'm pretty sure Jesus wanted us to know that we are all, on some level, prodigal sons. still, i couldn't help but feel that he was justified in his resentment of his brother. here he was, the faithful son, watching his brother who'd screwed up and made a big mess of his life and his father's life, receive the full inheritance back. i fully sympathize with his anger. he, the faithful son, had stayed behind to work and make something of himself. he, the faithful son, hadn't broken his father's heart. he, the faithful son, had treasured his inheritance and lived a life worthy of it. in addition, which isn't mentioned in the story, but he, the faithful son, had probably spent a good amount of his life piecing his father's heart back together. he'd probably try to show his father that there wasn't a need to be shattered, that one of his children wanted to please and honor him. and then his brother, who he had seen hurt his father so, came back and it was as if he'd never left. in fact, they even threw him a party!

i think that, at times, my parents wish that my brothers and i would show a little more compassion towards the one. that our first desire wouldn't be to slap his face off. i've tried, and i think my brothers have tried as well, but that compassion has become hard to find these days. really.

so in the midst of our discussion, we revisited that story. i said that we've run out of compassion in the same way that the faithful son had. that we strive to honor and obey, and that, in the deepest regions of ourselves, we can't understand why our parents are broken. we all know that, should anything happen to us, our parents would feel just the same, but it's difficult to watch what our sibling does to them and still try to find that same compassion. we wonder, as the son probably wondered, what gives our sibling the right? our parents loved us all the same, gave us all the same things, and treated us the same. so why does this one feel that he should have the right, the ability, the gall, to act the way he does? why should his meager (and sometimes downright pathetic) excuses for faithfulness be rewarded - rejoiced over, and ours accepted or assumed?

i suppose that we, like the son, rest in the knowledge that we're loved and rejoiced over the same, though it manifests itself in different ways. that perhaps, what the prodigal son didn't have, we still have, though it might be difficult to identify or even accept these things. and perhaps, just perhaps, the difference in all this is that the prodigal son displayed humility, something that the rest of us have yet to see.

all the same, it doesn't make it any less difficult for us, the un-prodigal, to understand our brother(s). that son wasn't greedy or even wrong. he might have just wanted to remind his father that, while the other one was doing the destroying, it wasn't easy or enjoyable to pick up the pieces.