Lectio:
“I am the prodigal son every time I search for unconditional love where it cannot be found.”
— Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son

Meditatio:
In Luke’s Gospel (15:11-32), Jesus uses the parable of the prodigal son to explain our relationship with God and God’s relationship with us. The first thing we are told is that the younger of the two sons, presumably feeling unfulfilled and believing that wealth will bring him the fulfillment he lacks, asks for his share of the father’s estate, which the father gives him without question. Still unsatisfied and believing that his environment is the cause of his unrest, the son then leaves for a distant country. When this does not bring him fulfillment, he squanders all his inheritance “in dissolute living,” but this, too, leaves him feeling empty. Then, in a far-off land that has nothing left to offer him, he finds himself broke, hungry, and alone, and, in a moment of grace-filled clarity, realizes that even his father’s workers have a better life than he created for himself.
The younger son then decides to return home, repent of his wrongdoing and his wrong understanding, and beg his father’s forgiveness and a place amongst his father’s workers, not as a son but as a hired servant. As he returns, however, the father sees him in the distance, runs to him, embraces him, and kisses him. The son attempts to make amends, but the father begins to rejoice, treating him not only like a beloved son who has returned, but like a prince of the kingdom, with a robe, jewelry, sandals, a fatted calf, and a celebration, saying, “This son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found” (24)!
Leaving aside the older brother’s reaction and his father’s subsequent response, one thing we notice in this story is that the father allowed the younger son to have exactly what he thought he wanted. The father does not protest or give chase. He gives the son what he asks for and allows him to go on his way. The father knows that if the son believes that the cause of his dis-ease is a lack of money or property, his present circumstances, relationships, or location, or from a lack of worldly experience, nothing he will say will change his son’s mind. The son needs to learn these lessons on his own.
We notice that the father never leaves. The son does. The father remains at home, his love for his son intact and unchanged, patiently awaiting and hoping for his child’s return, but also assuming that he may be gone forever, dead to the very love he so freely gives him, both in allowing him to leave and in allowing him to pursue the things he believes will bring him fulfillment. When the son returns, however, beaten down and weary from the world’s broken promises, he is greeted with the father’s abiding love, which pours itself into him, in joy and celebration at his return and rebirth.
The Father’s Love, Jesus tells us, is like this. When we ask, Love gives. When we leave, Love remains. When we repent, Love forgives. When we return, Love rejoices. When we are reborn, Love overflows, pouring itself out from its source, in, on, and through us.
Oratio:
Where were you
where are you
comfort me
I’m hurting
I left you
I’m sorry
speak to me
I’m listening
I was angry
and prideful
I see now
I need you
I’m here child
come to me
I never left
I love you

Contemplatio:
Where in my life am I still searching for love in distant places instead of returning to the Love that has been waiting for me all along?
Related Scripture:
“Return to me, and I will return to you, says the Lord of hosts.” (Malachi 3:7)
For Further Reading:
If you enjoyed this post, you may also like Oratio Divina: How Long Lord

Leave a Reply to The Still Small Voice and Korean Stew (Lectio Divina) | Grappling With DivinityCancel reply