When we hear the story of the prodigal son, we need to recognize that as much as it centers on a loving father, a profligate son who needs to repent and return home, there is another: the older brother.
We know that Jesus wants us to reflect on all of the relationships in the parable: the prodigal son and the father, the two brothers, and the father and the older son.
The focus in preaching is usually on the father and the prodigal son who has wasted his inheritance and shame-faced come home. But you’ve also likely heard remarks about the other son, the older one who stayed home, worked loyally for his father, but now is upset by how well-treated his younger sibling has been in light of how little he feels he has had the love of the father.
And that is often taken as an exhortation to the faithful, to those of the church who have been her constant support, in prayer, service and by tithing. We’ve been here, keeping the lights and heat on, keeping things going. We need to put aside any resentment toward those returning to the faith, to be generous, and to be like the father, rejoicing at their coming home.
But you know, I can’t say, in all my years of ministry, that I’ve run into a lot of that attitude among the faithful with respect to those who are coming back to Christ. Rather, I’m more apt to find the very generosity that Jesus commends us to. Now, I do hear complaints, and not many, with regard to the behavior of people unfamiliar with worship, how we are to act in this place as we come before God in a spirit of repentance, but also in the joy of our redemption. And really, the concern here is that people learn and grow comfortable in being here even as they grow conscious of who it is we all stand before when we pray, when we offer the mass as a community of disciples. That is, this isn’t just a big meeting room, a lecture hall or a concert venue. Come in here, look up the aisle and into the sanctuary, and there in the tabernacle, as indicated by the presence lights, is Christ in the Blessed Sacrament. God is here, and in a real sense, he’s been waiting for us like the father in Jesus’ story.
What I’d like to suggest about this older brother, is that in our day, that brother isn’t necessarily us, those engaged in worship, fellowship and service. Indeed, I think the sulky sibling could be seen as the Christian who has stayed away from the mass; and when confronted, however gently, with the fact of their absence, responds in part or entirely with resentment.
And to be clear that resentment isn’t aimed at the prodigals among us, if at all, but at the father, just as in the story our Lord tells. And that father could very well be the pastor who is commonly referred to as “father” – and I don’t mean that in the personal sense (However, that’s very possible) but rather in the sense of the clergy as representative of the Church as an institution – that is, the person has an issue with the Church, and not so much, with God. I also think there is resentment toward the father who is our God; and that comes of a sense of disappointment in God who seems absent to them. Both of these possibilities are concerning.
In the story of the prodigal, I think it fair to say that if there had been no celebration of the prodigal’s return, if instead he was quietly welcomed back with an agreement that “we won’t speak about what has happened” then maybe the other brother could have born the situation better. It’s the party he can’t stand; and so, he says in evident anger to his father, “Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends…”
There are so many Catholics who are not here who aren’t horrible people. They aren’t prodigals who are living dissolute lives, but instead, they’ve taken what they’ve learned as children, what they might regard as the spiritual inheritance, and effectively, left the Church but for those few family occasions (baptisms, wedding, funerals, etc.) when the sense of obligation brings them home. They think of themselves as basically good people who live moral lives. They have a sense of right and wrong rooted in Christian teaching. As far as they are concerned, they are walking in God’s ways, and really don’t need the Church, some priest, to go over again what they’ve already learned. To them, it’s as logical as repeating elementary school to come here every Sunday.
As I mentioned, there may be some anger with the Church, for its many failings, for its scandals; for the fact that so many of us can be caught out in hypocrisy. We say we believe, and yet, there are times when our actions don’t align with our confession of faith. That’s all of us, me included. That’s why we go to confession, and are appropriately humble before God. We are his children very much in the sense that we have a lot of spiritual maturing yet to do!
The absent Catholic might well ask, who are we to be celebrating? We’re all sinners and hypocrites. What do we have to be happy about? And so, why do we put on this show of devotion, of penitence, but also of joy?
Well, that shows a lack of charity. This isn’t to excuse the Church’s sins, but rather, it’s a call for generosity toward us, the mass-goers, the clergy, those in ministries of prayer, service and worship, who are yet perfected in Christ. I know we mess up; I know I mess up, and come here many a day as much a penitent as a priest, to lead all of us who have arrived with our faults, but also in our joy, to celebrate, to worship and adore a God who is always happy to reconcile with us, and bring us home.
The more disturbing of the two concerns I have, is the second: the resentment toward God, even anger toward him. I know of it because I have had people speak to me about it; but more so, because I have felt it.
In my spiritual journey there were days of confusion: I was a good person, I’d gone to church as a child and youth with my parents and I had paid attention, and was doing my best to keep the law as Jesus taught it. Now, to be honest, upon reflection I found I hadn’t really, but in my mind at the time I had thought that as I did murder people, steal from widows and orphans, that I helped my friends move apartments, was kind to strangers, held the door for older folks, and so on, I deserved better than what life was giving me. Indeed, at one point, life was not giving me much: I was unemployed and miserable. More grievously, I could no longer recognize the many good things I had even then. So, there was no joy, no sense of celebration. You could have brought me a fatted calf, and I would have found a problem with it: what am I supposed to do with this? Do I look like a farmer?
There are so many in our Catholic community who are in this same spiritual state, some less so, some far worse. God is absent to them even as they can acknowledge, in a philosophical way, that there must be God, he just has nothing to do with them. He might as well be in a realm beyond the universe because nothing of him is seen here, except for, maybe, the beauty of his creation, and that is the one consolation that can be had.
Today is Laetare Sunday, “pink” Sunday and so, we are called to rejoice as a community of prodigals who’ve found their way home either recently or from some time in the past; but we need to remember those who aren’t rejoicing, who hold themselves apart from this celebration because for them God is not generous, but rather unfair in dispensing his largesse.
We may have discouraging days ahead for a great many people, those we know as friends, family, but also many more. We must ask ourselves how can we bring them into this spiritual space of rejoicing, how can we convey to them the words of the father heard today in the parable of the prodigal: “… all that is mine is yours.”
For our absent brothers and sisters, this is theirs, this place, this spiritual space, this holy refuge, this ark in the sea of chaos that the world can be, and right now, probably is.
Our parish stewardship initiative is very much about this, of bringing to bear our time, talent and treasure, on the restoration of our family of faith that is all the baptized, to have us all in celebration and rejoicing in Christ our Saviour, with God our Father.
Amen.