The Prodigal Son
September 16, 2007

Readings for the 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Reading 1: Ex. 32:7–11, 13–14

Responsorial Psalm: Ps. 51:3–4, 12–13, 17, 19

Reading 2: 1 Tim. 1:12–17

Gospel: Lk. 15:1–32 or 15:1–10

Link to Readings

By Father Ray Ryland, Ph.D., J.D.

The Parable of the Prodigal Son is probably the best-known and most-loved of all of Jesus’ parables. It has been called "the pearl and crown of all the parables of Scripture." It has even received the title Evangelium in Evangelio, "the Gospel within the Gospel." Together let’s savor some of its richness.

The younger of two sons asked for his share of his father’s property (Lk. 15:11–12). We know from Deuteronomy 21:17 that under Jewish law, the younger brother’s share would be half of what the elder brother would receive. This request by the younger son expresses a desire that has plagued us human beings from the beginning.

I mean the desire for independence from God, the desire to be in charge of one’s own life. Recall Satan’s promise to Eve when he tempted her to disobey God and eat the forbidden fruit: "For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil" (Gen. 3:5). "That is," the tempter was saying, "you can decide for yourself what is good and what is evil. You can be your own boss." This is the sin of pride: the illusion of self-sufficiency, the illusion that a person can be his own source of his fulfillment. This is the root of all sin.

So the father divided his property between the two sons. The father did not argue with his younger son. The son’s request showed the father that the son wanted to leave. He was already something of a stranger in that home.

That’s how it is with us and God. By His creation, God gives us a free will. When we begin to think we want to be free from God’s service and find our liberty somewhere else, God lets us make that vain attempt. Eventually we learn that in turning from God’s will we inevitably become slaves of our own selfish desires. Our God-given free will gives us our grandeur, but our misuse of that free will gives us our misery.

Immediately, it seems, the younger son went into "a far country" and spent all he had. For us, says St. Augustine, "the far country" is forgetfulness of God. In the slavery of his own desires, the younger son used up all his resources in a vain attempt to find happiness.

Eating Pigs' Food

A famine arose in that country, and the younger son was broke and hungry (Lk. 15:14). He found a job that must have been abhorrent to him as a Jew: herding and feeding pigs. Here was a man who started out to use the world and its pleasures and who wound up becoming a slave to the world. St. Luke tells us the man "would gladly have fed on the pods that the swine ate"—which means that he was reduced to eating pigs’ food (Lk. 15:16).

Notice that the Greek says, he would gladly have "filled his belly" with the pods. He could deaden his hunger pains, but pigs’ food couldn’t ease his hunger for meaning and purpose. Recall St. Augustine’s familiar words from his Confessions: "Thou has made us for thyself, and our souls are restless until they find their rest in thee." This very day there are multitudes of people vainly trying to satisfy the hunger of their souls with pigs’ food. And what are some examples of pigs’ food? People filling their bellies with alcoholism, pornography, drug abuse, promiscuity, tv-addiction. . . . And the hunger of their souls just gets stronger and stronger.

That prodigal son’s suffering in that far country is itself a parable of the suffering which sin always brings.

And then the man "came to himself"—opened his eyes to the truth about himself (Lk. 15:17). When we come to our true selves, the selves God created us to be, we have to come to God through His Son. As the Second Vatican Council reminds us, "Christ the Lord, . . . in the very revelation of the mystery of the Father and of his love, fully reveals man to himself and brings to light his most high calling" (Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, no. 22).

None has described our turning from self to God more eloquently than St. Augustine:

Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you! You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you. In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created. You were with me, but I was not with you. Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you they would not have been at all.

You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you. I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more. You touched me, and I burned for your peace.

Having come to his senses, the prodigal son decided to return to his father (Lk. 15:18).

Why would he dare go back home? Probably because he knew he had once been a member of that family, and perhaps still was. When you and I turn away from our sin and back to God, we know we shall not be rejected. At our baptism we were adopted as sons and daughters of God, and nothing—not even our worst sins—can cancel that adoption.

And what was he going to say to his father: "I have sinned against heaven and before you. . . . " (Lk. 15:18) Now the prodigal son is being realistic. Now he recognizes the reality of sin: Now he has taken the first step in repentance. "I have sinned against heaven and before you." That recognition echoes what the Psalmist said many centuries earlier: "Against you [God], you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight" (Ps. 51:4a). By our sin we hurt ourselves, we wrong other persons, but worst of all, we set ourselves against God Himself, the very source of our being.

Welcomed Home

The prodigal’s father was waiting and watching for him. He saw his son coming at a distance, ran to him and embraced him (Lk. 15:20b). The father gave his prodigal son a kiss, which was the pledge of peace and reconciliation among the Hebrew people. There is an Eastern proverb: "If a man draws near to God an inch, God will draw near to him an ell." ("Ell" is a unit of measurement equal to 45 inches.)

Our Father in heaven is always watching for us. Watching for us even though we’re far from Him; watching for us even though we give little thought of the holiness of God; watching for us even though we don’t recognize the true enormity of our sin. And the moment we begin to open our hearts to God, He embraces us, draws us to Himself.

Notice that the father welcomed back the prodigal son even before the son made his confession. Imagine the son’s surprise. And imagine his immediate awareness of how totally undeserving he was of such mercy!

In our return to the Father, the more we receive his love, the more grievously do we look on our sins. Repentance is a continuing process: As we grow in understanding God’s forgiving love, we mourn that we have sinned against that love. When the saints urge us to bemoan our sins, they’re not talking about remorse—"why did I do such a thing?" No, indeed! Bemoaning our sins means sorrowing because of the suffering our sins inflicted on our Lord Jesus on the Cross. The more we know and love our Lord Jesus, the more we despise our sins.

The father ordered a great celebration of thanksgiving for the return of his son (Lk. 15:22–24). This reminds us of Jesus’ words about heavenly joy over repentance. "I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance" (Lk. 15:7).

Clearly, in speaking of the righteous persons who needs no repentance, Jesus is speaking of righteous persons who at a given time did not need repentance. But like all of us, eventually they too would need repentance.

The elder brother responded sullenly to the news of his brother’s return (Lk. 15:25ff). He could only complain that his father had given a feast for his wayward brother but had never done the same for him. The elder brother counted as nothing the fact that he had always enjoyed his father’s company and pleasure. The father said to the elder brother, "Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours" (Lk. 15:31).

Nor should the elder brother be jealous of the prodigal son. Some times people think that a person who has led a life of self-indulgence and is then converted has had "the best of both worlds." This notion is completely wrong, for three reasons. A person’s self-indulgence only does the person harm. When he repents and is forgiven, his guilt is taken away, but the effects of that harm remain. And if the person is truly repentant, he devoutly wishes he had never done those things; they leave him no lasting good.

The Church proclaims this parable to us, not to entertain us, but to hold up a mirror to us.

In the prodigal son, can we see an image of ourselves? Who of us has not turned away from the Father? Who of us has not put great distance between ourselves and the Father, by our sins?

Or take the scornful, self-righteous, unforgiving elder brother. Who of us has not harshly judged persons who grievously distort their own lives? Who of us has not withheld forgiveness—or at least been reluctant to grant it—to those who need our forgiveness?

In these and countless other ways, you and I too often wander off into far country and squander or grossly misuse God’s good gifts. That’s what sin is.

God grant that every time we go away from God, we will accept His grace to come to ourselves. Come to our senses, and turn back to the Father. His Son has made it perfectly clear that the Father is always waiting for us, always watching for us, infinitely eager to welcome us back home.

Father Ray Ryland is CUF's spiritual advisor.

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