“He came to his senses.”
Fr. Henri Nouwen in his book “The Prodigal Son” says
that we can identify with each of the characters of this parable
at different times in our lives.
The young son in our younger years,
the old son in our middle-aged years
and the father in the older years.
Maybe the order can be wrong, but we play all roles at some point.
There are moments in all our lives when we shift our thinking
“come to our senses” moments when something happened
that causes us to rethink the way we live our lives.
I remember when I was about 13 or 14 years old
when I had an incidence of “coming to my senses.”
A friend of mine who lived in the same neighborhood and I
were walking home together when we met his mother.
His mother was a significant alcoholic
and would end up in the bars in the middle of the day
and often stumble out legless drunk, walking down the street.
It was a huge embarrassment for him and hard to watch.
I remember this one day we were coming home from school late.
I lived just off the main street where all the bars were
and we were walking home when she stumbled out of one of the bars.
She caught sight of her son who was walking home with me
and she just berated him in front of all his friends.
I just got upset for my friend and I berated back.
And I was proud of myself thinking,
“I showed her. I put her in her place.”
I went into home all proud of myself.
About one hour later, the doorbell rings and
I hear Mrs. Doherty at the front door, berating my father.
I’m thinking yeah, my Dad is going to tell her what’s what.
And then I heard the following words,
“I’m sorry Mrs. Doherty.
I’m very sorry that he called you a drunk.
Brendan will never do that again. I can assure you.”
And so, my father comes in to me and he is furious. And he says,
“Did you call Mrs. Doherty a drunk?”
“Ahhh no. I don’t think I used that word. I used the other word.”
“What other word?”
“That other word. The big one.”
I couldn’t even think of what the words was. Alcoholic?
My father said, “You are not eating until you tell the truth.”
And I was sent to my room.
But I felt so wronged by it
because she was the one who berated us
and she was the drunk one and out of control.
I was just sort of returning
what she had done to her son for so many years.
I felt I was right, so I sat proud in my room hungry.
Eventually, after two-three-four-five hours,
my hunger started to eat away at me and I came up and said,
“Yeah, you know, I’m sorry I called her that other word.”
I couldn’t even think of it again.
They laughed and said until you tell the truth, you are not eating.
So, back down I went.
It was about seven or eight hours later,
just before midnight, I always remember it.
My mother and father were still faithfully waiting for me.
I came back up and I said,
“Yes. I did. I’m sorry I did call her a drunk.”
My father never said anything at that moment;
he pulled out the hot plate from the oven and said,
“Doesn’t the truth taste good?’
And he puts the food down for me.
Then as I was eating, he said,
“You have no idea what that woman’s life is like.
You have never walked a day in her shoes.
She suffers from an illness.
And you have no business calling her names.
And you will never do that if you ever want to eat in this house again.”
What I learned from that lesson:
it wasn’t just about how hunger brought me to my senses,
like the young man in today’s gospel
but I remember afterwards thinking about
the radical difference between how my father treated that woman
and how I treated that woman.
I treated her according to what I saw.
Somebody who was out of control.
And I met that with the same force with which she was giving to us.
My father met her with compassion, forgiveness and understanding.
It was the exact same action but a different reaction.
My father was forgiving and compassionate.
In today’s gospel, we hear about these two sons.
We always called it the Prodigal Son reading
but really, we are better off calling it the Prodigal Father
because he does the same thing for both sons.
He goes out of the house to greet both sons
because both sons need to come to their senses.
Both are wrong.
The younger son went off and lived a life of dissipation
and does what he wants;
he came to his senses and came back.
And the Father is waiting for him outside the house.
That means it had gone outside of his area;
it is very symbolic,
the Father stepping outside the house is a big deal.
It is the humble action of the father that is so powerful.
But when the older son, who did everything right,
did everything that he thought was right
was refusing to go into the house;
the Father comes out to him as well.
And pleads with him but he does not yet come to his senses.
Here’s the thing for us:
most of us in our young life
will identify with the younger son.
Most of us in our middle to older life will identify with the older son.
And here is the real challenge:
We can think we’re righteous
in our indignation of other people’s behavior;
like we have done things right?
We are the ones who are faithfully coming to Church every Sunday. Where is everybody else?
Where are they all?
Those unfaithful ones!
We can judge them as we have never walked a day in their shoes.
We don’t know what their problems are.
We don’t know what their struggles are.
We don’t know what life has been like for them.
And so, we are called to be the third and final character,
which is to be the Prodigal Father;
to offer forgiveness.
Whether we identify with the younger son;
or identify with the older son,
we are actually called to be the Father, the Prodigal Father,
who offers forgiveness on behalf of God our Father,
who offers us forgiveness for all the times
that we are indignant and the older son,
and the times when we were the younger son.
Today in our own life,
we are called, especially on this Lenten journey,
we are called to come to our senses.
Now maybe it takes a little starvation
like I did when I was younger and
maybe that is what you need to do is fast a little bit
so we can come to our senses to find out
what it is that we are doing that isn’t so right;
or maybe it is just some prayer and reflection
but we are called to offer forgiveness to all.
Those who are close to us and to those who are far away from us.
It is the Prodigal Father who we come to be;
we offer forgiveness to all who have hurt us.
It is time to come to our senses.
