This Sunday of Great Lent takes its lesson from the “Parable of the Prodigal Son”—arguably the most concise, profound, and beautiful of our Lord’s statements on the nature of God’s love. In a story of fewer than 600 words (related in Luke 15:11-32), Jesus depicts the follies of our fallen nature, the shame and self-loathing that lie at the heart of human vice, the tender love that can heal a fractured world, and the price such love exacts. And these grand ideas are all conveyed through characters one might find in an ordinary domestic comedy: “There once was a man who had two sons…”
Like all great works of storytelling, this parable invites the reader to approach it at different times in his or her life—as a child, an adult, a sibling, a parent—to experience it anew, and to discover new rewards, new wisdom, with each encounter.
This Sunday in church is the perfect opportunity to have that encounter, and perhaps to engage in the self-examination that is one hallmark of the Lenten season. In the meantime, to read a reflection on the Prodigal Son, click here.
http://www.armenianchurch-ed.net/wpblog/2012/03/a-father%E2%80%99s-love/
A Father’s Love
Perhaps the holiest moment in the Armenian Divine Liturgy is when the congregation fills the church with the singing of the Lord’s Prayer. We begin with the words Hayr Mer—“Our Father”; but what really do we mean by referring to God as a “father”? Do we mean that God brought us into this world? That He is responsible for our welfare until we can go off on our own? Do we think of God as a stern disciplinarian, who will punish us if we go astray? Or do we expect Him to treat us with fatherly favoritism, and turn a blind eye to our faults and misdeeds?
We are told in the Bible that the followers of Jesus were also struggling with this question. The answer that Jesus gave is probably the best summary of Christian love that has ever been uttered: the Parable of the Prodigal Son.
This gospel passage (Luke 15:11-32) should be familiar to everyone—it provides the reading for the second Sunday of the current season of Lent—but let us try to see it with new eyes.
Bowing to the request of his younger offspring, a man divides his property between his two sons. The younger son takes his share and leaves home, but quickly squanders his wealth. Destitute and disgraced, and feeling unworthy of his father, the boy swallows what little pride he has left and returns to his father’s house, where he expects a cool reception. To his surprise, the father welcomes him with embraces and kisses, ordering the servants to make preparations for a great celebration: “My son was dead, and is alive again,” the father announces; “he was lost, and is found.”
Jesus could have ended the parable here—with the “happy ending” of a father celebrating the return of his lost son—and had a simple story expressing God’s undying forgiveness for man, and His joy when a sinner repents. But Jesus did not stop there: he switches the scene to the field where the older son is working—and has been working diligently his entire life. The older boy is outraged when he learns of his father’s behavior, and corners his father to complain bitterly of the injustice of it.
From a public celebration, we are pulled into a private family argument, and it is as if reality suddenly bursts into the story. In the real world, grand public displays of forgiveness are easy to make; but in private—in the family, so to speak—resentments still linger. The older son’s anger has the ring of truth: he has worked hard to do the right thing, taken responsibility for his life. He has earned his father’s love. One might ask whether a father who throws away his affection on an undeserving child is so very different from a prodigal son who squanders his inheritance.
Part of what makes this such a touching parable is the way the details seem drawn from real life. Jesus shows himself not as a teller of moral fables, but as an acute observer of human behavior and the human heart. An upright son who demands fair play and just deserts; the uneasy feelings of competition which brothers harbor for a parent’s approval and love—these are all too human, and all too recognizable even to us. The father’s response to his eldest son is the same: having already lost one son, he does not want to lose the other; yet he can offer no counter-argument, nor appeal to any greater standard of justice.
The best he can do is to repeat what he said to the onlookers when his wayward son first returned. But this time, in this quiet, private setting, the same words have a different feeling: not a joyful announcement to the world, but a father’s plea for understanding from his son: “Your brother was dead, but now he is alive again.” What person who has ever lost a family member—to whatever circumstance—can hear those words and not be moved? The love of a parent for a child is very strong; but to lose that child, and then to get him back again—this must bring forth the most powerful love of all.
This is what God’s love for us is like. This is what it means for us to be able to call Him “Father.” With regard to God, we are all like children who want to be close to our parents: we wonder which child they love best, and worry that we may become unworthy of their love. These are not small concerns, but in our child-like way, we miss the point about our father’s love, which is not necessarily the same for all, but which is so deep that it makes no sense to set up a ranking of least to most favored. It is a love whose depth cannot be measured, and which sometimes is not even fully recognized until it confronts the prospect of loss.
It is a powerful lesson, and a fine example of the kind of teaching that made Jesus famous during his mission to the world. He offers not a fairy tale where actions have no consequences and love conquers all, but rather a full portrait of what real love requires, and of the obstacles such love presents to real people.
—Christopher Hagop Zakian
“The return of the Prodigal Son” by Rembrandt
This entry was posted on Thursday, March 1st, 2012 at 7:17 pm and is filed under General Interest, Saints and Feasts, Youth. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
2 Responses to “A Father’s Love”
Sandra says:
March 2, 2012 at 7:19 am
I wanted to let you all know that, despite learning this story in my own childhood, and hearing it repeated every year during Lent, your interpretation of the story, Chris, especially as it relates to the human condition, was compelling and led me to understand the deeper meaning of the parable in a way I never had before. That, coupled with the amazing choice of the Rembrandt painting of the subject, made it a very special lesson for me this morning. Thank you for the way you reach into our homes, draw us closer to the Church, and help us understand our humanity. all the best!
Arin says:
March 2, 2012 at 1:41 pm
God is always merciful towards us, human beings. He gives us a hand when we are in danger, He forgives our awful sins and accepts us when we really repent as if nothing has happened.
He always rejoices when one of His lost children is found.
Each of us is a prodigal son who looks forward to God’s mercy and absolution and we must never betray our Father who accepted us with embraces and kisses.
http://www.armenianchurch-ed.net/wpblog/2012/03/a-father%E2%80%99s-love/
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