Then Jesus said, “There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, “Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me So he divided his property between them.”
Luke 15,11-12
We’re all rather familiar with the opening lines of the parable — so called — of the prodigal son (Luke 15,11-32). It is among the best loved and most used parables, especially for catechises, but — as often happens — we tend not to stop and meditate on it enough, perhaps because we think with know it too well already. Nowadays, some prefer to call it — and with good reason — the parable of the merciful father. In this Lectio, I call it the parable of the resentful brother: the open-ended nature of the parable, as we shall see, wants to place us in his shoes.
A quick pointer, before we start, to some indications on Lectio Divina, and pratical suggestions how to pray. These may be particularly helpful for those who are new to this blog, and to Lectio Divina.
As we start, let us pray, with bishop St Richard of Chichester, for the grace:
O most merciful redeemer, friend and brother,
may I know thee more clearly,
love thee more dearly,
and follow thee more nearly, day by day. Amen.
Lectio
We probably know the parable very well already, but it is always important to re-reading the text again, which we find in Luke 15, 11-32 [online version here, NRSV, external link].
We know the general plot of the story:
- The younger son asks for his share of property, and leaves the house of the father.
- The younger son lives a dissolute life.
- The famine, with the younger son reduced to working as a swineherd; his nostalgia for the house of the father, and the decision to return as an employee.
- The return of the younger son, and the father’s welcome, with the celebration.
- The return of the elder son, his refusal to enter the house, and the dialogue between the father and the elder son.
We can now look into some detail:
[13] he squandered his property in dissolute living. Note that the text only speaks of dissolute living, but does not specify. This is interesting to point out, as we shall see later.
[15] sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. For Jesus and his Jewish audience, pigs are ritually unclear and not kosher (not permitted as food). The younger son is not merely reduced to becoming a herdsman, but to an unclean/pagan animal at that. He has really hit rock bottom.
[17] “How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger!” Let’s not be too impressed: the younger son is not moved by some new understanding of the love of the father … but at least the sheer hunger leads to nostalgia of home, and a deep awareness of his misery.
[18-19] “I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.’ ” The younger son rehearses his speech to his father. Note the full form of the speech, which will be significant later.
[20] But while he was still far off, his father saw him. Good to ask ourselves: how did the father see him from a distance? The story implies that the father was waiting for him, hoping in his return. No wonder that he is ready when the son returns … was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.
[21] “I am no longer worthy to be called your son — ” The younger son starts his speech, but the father seems to have cut his speech short. Compared with vv. 18-19, the speech is not complete. The father than replies not in words, but in action …
[22] Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. The father’s orders to his servants are very meaningful: the best robe is a sign of celebration, the ring on his finger is the ring of authority, a signet ring (the ancient equivalent of being signatory to the family estate!), while the sandals on his feet are the sign of a free man, as the slave and the servant went barefoot.
[23] the fatted calf is the one prepared and kept for a very special occasion. But what feast could be more important than that for the son who is alive again?
[25-28] Now the focus shifts on the elder brother, and his refusal to join the feast. Worth pointing out some details:
[29] “Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command” The words of the elder son show that he has never really understood the father either. He lives as a servant/slave, not as a son. His relationship with the father is characterised by obedience, more proper of the servant, than the son. He fails to understand that whatever the father has is his too!
[30] “this son of yours” The anger in these words is clear. The servant [v. 27] had spoken of your brother, whereas the elder son takes his distance: not my brother but this son of yours. Perhaps it happens also to us when we are anger, taking our distances even in family relationships.
“devoured your property with prostitutes.” Where does this come from? How can he presume it, except that he has already judged his brother? The parable itself had only spoken of dissolute living [v. 13] … it is the elder son who fills in the blanks with his own prejudice.
[31] “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.” The father gently reminds that he is a son, not a servant, something the elder son seems not to have really understood [v. 29].
[32] “But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.” As we may also see in the other two parables [Luke 15, 6.9], the attitude of mercy on finding what has been lost (here, it’s the younger son) is joy. The father also reminds him not to disown his brother: “This son of yours” is “this brother of yours”.
The parable leaves us with an open ending: we do not know whether the elder son enters the feast. This, of course, is not coincidence in the construction of the narrative, but is asking us: what would you have done? Would you have joined the party? Or stayed outside, all resentful?
Meditatio
Moving on to the second moment, on to reflection/meditation, we re-read the text, now enriched by the various notes and comments. We then pause to reflect on the text, and on ourselves. The following question may help reflection, and feel to add your own questions emerging during prayer:
- Which of the two sons do I identify most with: the younger son, who left the father’s house? Or the elder son, who remains with the father, but lives as a servant/slave? In all this, how do I relate to God and to the Church? Do I feel “close” or “distant”?
- Where have I, like the younger son, distanced myself from God? Where is my land of escape, of exile, far-away from the father? Where do I live famine, which leads me to return? If I am still far away, do I desire to return? Maybe I still lack enough motivation, but at least some desire to go back?
- What is my image of God? That of stern father, a task-master? Or a merciful, loving father?
- Where do I resemble the elder son? Perhaps I feel close to God and the Church, at least not distant … but somewhat a resentful Christian? If my relationship to the Father that of a true son (based on love), or of a servant (based on obedience, rather than love)? Is my obedience characterised by the freedom of the children of God to which I am called?
- Do I truly rejoice for the Father’s mercy? Do I truly rejoice at the Church’s call to mercy? Or is mercy only for the Year of Mercy … and now we needn’t pretend any more with this mercy business and return to be the obedient but resentful sons? Do I welcome the younger brother as a brother? Do I welcome those at the margins of the Church and society?
- Do I enter the house and join the party, with the Father and the younger brother? Or would I rather stay outside?
Oratio
In this third moment, I let my reflect transform into prayer, and I speak to the Lord, “as a friend speaks to a friend”. What do I bring before the Lord? What questions, what resolutions? What leaves me troubled?
I remain, without any hurry, in conversation with the Lord, expressing the words I find within me. I also listen to what — in the depths of my heart — I find the Lord is trying to tell me.
Contemplatio
I then stop on the presence of the Lord, letting my prayer become ever more a prayer of the heart, a prayer of presence, a prayer of silence. I stay and rejoice in the presence of the Lord who invites me to celebrate with him.
I conclude praying the Our Father.
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Nova et vetera 
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