Whenever I get to read the parable of the prodigal son, I never identify with that awful son who left home. I am always the eldest son who followed my father’s rules to the letter. I am annoyingly good - annoying in the sense that I expect something in return. Or at least expect my father’s good graces, as though He owes it to me.
Thus, when the prodigal son makes a dramatic comeback and the father makes an equally dramatic if not spectacular response, I’m madly envious, mad as hell.
I’d be keeping tabs of what I’ve done for him through the years like the best accountant in town. I will shove in my father’s face the fact that I stood by him while the one who didn’t stand his guard and instead stood up the father’s expectations is welcomed back like a returning hero, like one who’s bringing home the bacon.
Today, I didn’t expect God to console me anew with His answers to my painful plaint: “Son, you have always been with me. All that I have is yours.”
Indeed, what greater reward is there than to be constantly in the Lord’s presence? What greater consolation is there than the thought that we are loved, His graces at our fingertips clasped in prayer, assured of salvation? What greater joy than to be in the loving company of a father?
We non-prodigals have no right to complain. When the going gets rough - or when the going gets smooth - our father is always there to run to. He has given us all the resources we need in our struggle.
Clearly, whenever we are given to complaining, it could be that we are just being selfish. It is a glaring omission for non-prodigals not to rejoice at somebody’s else's conversion. It is very telling of the disposition of our souls. Our being green with envy is exposed and it is slimy. We ought to be ashamed just as the black sheep is ashamed of ever being accepted back to the fold.
We behave this way because we ourselves haven’t grasped the logic of the Father’s love for His creatures. We have failed to see that it is all up to Him whom and when to forgive and to love. We are but His creatures; who are we to dictate the terms and conditions when we were not even there a the crafting of the contract.
2.16.2001
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