I just finished Henri Nouwen's book,
The Return of the Prodigal Son. As I read through this book I was impressed with not only how much of my own story fits into this
parable and painting, but how much the journey to return home to the Father appears in other stories and scriptures. I realized that we rarely give this parable justice, lumping into the tales of why sinners turning back to Jesus is a good thing but this parable means so much more than that.
So because of that I am going to be writing a lot more about how the Prodigal Son narrative plays out in where I see Jesus move in the lives of students on campus and my own life.
What stands out most to me in this book is Nouwen's analysis of the elder son and stating the son's lostness. At Urbana 12,
Ram Sridharan stated that elder son mistook proximity to the father for intimacy with the father. As I read throughout the book and saw the desperate lostness of an elder son who was by the father the whole time I see myself as one easily caught up in resentment and bitterness that I never felt I could "run away" and have wild escapades. I was responsible, the good child in my own family and in my Christian family. But here the Father ceases to become a father and becomes a slave driver where instead of joy, the elder son is filled with anger and resentment for never being "good enough" to be celebrated.
"Here I see how lost the elder son is. He has become a foreigner in his own house. True communion is gone. Every relationship is pervaded by darkness... There is no longer any trust. Each little move calls for a counter move each little remark begs for analysis; the smallest gesture has to be evaluated. This is the pathology of the darkness. Is there a way out? I don't think there is - at least not on my side. It often seems that the more I try to disentangle myself from the darkness, the darker it becomes. It need light, but that light has to conquer my darkness, and that I cannot bring about myself. I cannot forgive myself. I cannot make myself feel loved. By myself I cannot leave the land of my anger. I cannot bring myself nor can I create communion on my own. I can desire it, hope for it, wait for it, yes, pray for it. But my true freedom I cannot fabricate for myself. That must be given to me. I am lost. I must be found and brought home by the shepherd who goes out to me."
What was so profound about the elder son is he has yet to understand how truly lost he is. That is what we see from the younger son. He realizes his lostness and comes home, where he know he will be found. But until the elder son sees his lostness, sees his life in darkness, he can never be found.
In many ways this transition out of college has been my journey home. There are times when I was the younger son - indulging in my own desires and leaving the promise of home. Most of the time I have been the elder son, working hard and expecting praise for every little thing I do. Expecting that my work, my effort, my love should be constantly noticed, reciprocated, and appreciated. But so little do I see my own lostness in that - lost in a world of desired praise without having ever set foot outside the door. This transition has been an invitation from Jesus into trust and gratitude, neither of which I'm natural at (although I would say it's not natural for most humans to be constantly trusting and grateful). Without trust, we cannot be found because we have to trust that the Father actually wants us home, we are important enough to be found. Without gratitude we become buried in resentment and joy becomes almost impossible. We can longer celebrate with those who are found again and feel we have not been given what we deserve.
As I continue on this journey of returning home to the Father, I now carry with me the difficult disciplines of trust and gratitude. We will see how this journey continues to unfold.
