There was a man who had two sons…
To be honest I didn’t get much further than that opening line when I had to stop. That describes me, I thought. And truly… over the years I’ve met many men with two sons.
The gospel of Luke spins a story of a man parenting two sons. Frankly the sons are like day and night. They each make their decisions. They each embody distinct characteristics, different personalities, and different world views. These two brothers are who they are. And what we know is that they are both loved. It’s hard to believe that these two sons have the same parent and yet be so opposite each other. This shouldn’t surprise us. We’ve all seen it, if not experienced it in our own children. Each child needs to be parented according to who they are and what they need.
So, on the one hand I feel for the father in today’s reading from Luke. And on the other hand, I really admire him. He accepts the decisions that each son makes and comes alongside both of them. There is no judgement on either of them regardless of the decisions they take. Ironically, I would suggest that we the readers specifically and history generally, are more likely to be judge and jury. Most often we say the younger son is immature, irresponsible, wasteful, and entitled. We tend to admire the older son’s maturity, his responsibility and accountability to the family farm. And I suspect we also wince a little at the celebration held for the stray son who returns after an eye-opening and desperate time. Was he really that deserving, we wonder? Yet through it all, the father holds the container for both kids. His love for them endures. And there is gratitude and celebration that the younger is home. Safe.