As with a lightning flash, St Luke dispels all darkness of despair. The lost coin and the lost sheep prepare us for pardon and for peace. The immortal story of the lost child resounds across time and distance with eternal echoes of healing and of hope. A mirror is held for us. We see our own story. Our infidelity and our folly, our rejection of truth and our relentless pursuit of falsehood now confronts us in translucent parable. Wisdom and comfort and healing await us. If today we hear his voice let us not harden our hearts. We respond in generosity and in love, "speak, Lord, your servant is listening".
Christ shared meals with those like you and me. The reputable were angry, scandalised and dismayed. The cry of reproach echoed far and near: "this man makes sinners welcome and even eats with them."
Jesus chose his moment. He had a story to tell that would carry redeeming hope for all people and for all time. The setting and the family values were clear. A younger son was restless and bored with what seemed like the dull routine of peace-filled days. "Give me my share of the inheritance. I want it now." Like ourselves he took for granted the security and comfort (and genuine love) that he had always known. With little gratitude or concern he headed for a far-off country, remote indeed in regions no map could record. How wonderful to be free from all restraint. With much money and little wisdom he was thrilled with his cheap and transient popularity. He would learn that the shallow friends of his full purse would vanish like last year's snow on the mountain heights of home. Unexpected famine struck. He found himself penniless, friendless, homeless and unemployed. In a rapid and painful awakening to reality he saw himself for what he was - a spoiled and useless waster who had taken all and contributed nothing. In his misery and shame and in the desperation of unaccustomed hunger he, an educated Jew, accepted the degradation of feeding swine. He was driven to eat from the same trough. He could sink no lower.
Rejected and despised among hostile aliens, what could he expect from those he had abandoned and betrayed? He could not forget the loving care given to servants in his father's house. Hunger and misery, failure and contempt opened his eyes to startling reality. God can make even our wretchedness a time of Grace.
"He came to his senses." He discovered his real self. Could it be possible that the ever-generous father would grant servant status to a foolish, arrogant, and faithless child, a son no longer. He prepared his speech of sorrow. He never got to use it.
He left the place of foulness and failure. His homeward journey of repentance was travelled less by weary feet than by broken and repentant heart. And now an astounding detail from St Luke. While he was yet a "long way off" the father saw him. How? Day after lonely day, with prayers and tears, the father, from a chosen vantage point, had waited, watched and prayed. He never gave up. Now his hope was fulfilled. He did not see a dirty, starving, half-naked prodigal. "He saw only his beloved son." The father (no longer young) ran to him, embraced him and kissed him tenderly. No word of reproof or condemnation. No eager ears for contrite speech and deep apology. New robe. New ring. New shoes. We rejoice and celebrate. Your brother was dead and has come to life. He was lost and he is found. Could anyone despair again? "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want." "I will arise and go to my father."
F.MacN