March 27, 2022: The Fourth Sunday in Lent Joshua 5:9a, 10-12 Psalm 34 2 Corinthians 5:17-21 Luke 15: 1-3, 11-32 The Hard Work of HospitalityA reflection by Ann Marie Szpakowsa Fix Me, Jesus – Negro Spiritual
(1957 recording by Robert McFerrin) Oh, fix me, oh, fix me, oh, fix me, Fix me, Jesus, fix me. Fix me for my long white robe, fix me, Jesus, fix me. Fix me for my starry crown. Fix me, Jesus, fix me. Oh, fix me, oh, fix me, oh, fix me, Fix me, Jesus, fix me. Fix me for my journey home, Fix me, Jesus, fix me, Fix me for my dying bed, Fix me, Jesus, fix me. Oh, fix me, oh, fix me, oh, fix me, Fix me, Jesus, fix me.
Today’s gospel reading is commonly called the Parable of the Prodigal Son. Some scripture scholars have made a case for calling it the “Prodigal Father,” while others suggest renaming it the “Parable of the Lost Sons.” Our lectionary reading begins with key verses that set the stage for the parable in Luke 15:1-3: “Tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to Jesus, but the Pharisees and scribes began to complain, saying, ‘This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.’ So, to them Jesus addressed this parable.”
This remarkably familiar parable is the 3rd story in Luke 15, which includes the Lost Sheep and the Lost Coin. These “enigmatic parables” can be seen together as “a controversial Rabbi’s” response to the oppressive grumblings of the religious authorities of his day, as Amy-Jill Levine, a scholar of New Testament and Jewish Studies, details in her book, Short Stories by Jesus. Parables are complex stories. Centuries have passed since they were first told, written down, preached about, and commented on. How can we comprehend their meaning without admitting that our lenses have been clouded by our own experiences as well as with the domination of Western culture on both our society and our religious institutions? How can we recover a Middle Eastern mindset similar to one that gave rise to the parables in the first place?
Another New Testament scholar whose books I have found helpful in gently removing the cataracts from my own perceptions is Kenneth E. Bailey. His foundational study is titled Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes. Among his other works are three titles which specifically unpack Luke 15: Finding the Lost, Jacob and the Prodigal, and The Cross and the Prodigal. Two other books with a more Roman Catholic vision are Henri J. M. Nouwen’s The Return of the Prodigal Son – A Story of Homecoming and Brian J. Pierce, OP’s Jesus and the Prodigal Son – The God of Radical Mercy.
I would be hard pressed to summarize the work of the amazing authors, but I do wish to share this personal encounter with the parable. Many years ago, while attending a class on prayer, we were given Luke 15:11-32 to read and meditate on, and then we were asked, “Which of the 3 characters do we most resemble or are attracted to?” I was surprised and stunned to be gravitating towards the eldest son. It dawned on me that being the oldest meant being the responsible one. My younger brother always seemed to have been given more latitude than I even though he tended to be rebellious. What does the parable tell us about the Eldest? Although Jewish law would require that he receive two thirds of his father’s property, the parable tells us, “the father divided the property between them.” Some scholars read this as a 50/50 split. We are told that the father spends his days looking for his young son, “while he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion.” Bob Dufford, SJ penned “My Son has gone away” which puts into words the father’s lament:
My Son has gone away, left me, gone astray. But I have seen the way he went, and I will bring him back.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how could you run away? Jerusalem, how long my son? I’ll wait for you, I’ll stay. Perhaps my son is weary and cold. Perhaps he’s tired and sad. Tonight, I’ll go and watch again And wait for his return.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how could you run away? Jerusalem, how long my son? I’ll wait for you, I’ll stay. When the younger son returns home, he is given his father’s best robe, sandals, and signet ring. The fatted calf is slaughtered as his father exclaimed, “Then let us celebrate with a feast, because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.” The Eldest comes to find that music and dancing is taking place and refuses to enter the home. His father comes to plead with him. Throwing his brother under the bus, he suggests to their father that his brother spent his inheritance on prostitutes – something he could not have had any knowledge of. His father repeats the phrase, “but now we must celebrate and rejoice, because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.” It is here that the parable abruptly ends and we, the hearers of the Word, are left with the task of completing it for ourselves and for our spiritual communities. Who do we or will we excommunicate from the Feast? “Radical Hospitality” is only a catchphrase until we put into action. |
