(In case you'd like to read the scriptural account of the story he's talking about, here it is.)
“In Rembrandt’s painting, the elder son simply observes. It
is difficult to imagine what is going on in his heart. Just as with the
parable, so also with the painting, I am left with the question: How will he
respond to the invitation to join the celebration?
“There is no doubt—in the parable or the painting—about the
father’s heart. His heart goes out to both of his sons; he loves them both; he
hopes to see them together as brothers around the same table; he wants them to
experience that, different as they are, they belong to the same household and
are children of the same father.
“As I let all of this sink in, I see how the story of the
father and his lost sons powerfully affirms that it was not I who chose God,
but God who first chose me. This is the great mystery of our faith. We did not
choose God, God chooses us. From all eternity we are hidden ‘in the shadow of
God’s hand’ and ‘engraved on his palm.’ Before any human being touches us, God ‘forms us in secret’ and 'textures us’ in the depth of the earth, and before
any human being decides about us, God ‘knits us together in our mother’s womb.’ God loves us before any human person can show love to us. He loves us with a
‘first’ love, an unlimited, unconditional love, wants us to be his beloved
children, and tells us to become as loving as himself.
“For most of my life I have struggled to find God, to know
God, to love God. I have tried hard to follow the guidelines of the spiritual
life—pray always, work for others, read the Scriptures—and to avoid the many
temptations to dissipate myself. I have failed many times but always tried
again, even when I was close to despair.
“Now I wonder whether I have sufficiently realized that
during all this time God has been trying to find me, to know me, and to love
me. The question is not ‘How am I to find God?’ but ‘How am I to let myself be
found by him?’ The question is not ‘How am I to know God?’ but ‘How am I to let
myself be known by God?’ And finally, the question is not ‘How am I to love
God?’ but ‘How am I to let myself be loved by God?’ God is looking into the
distance for me, trying to find me, and longing to bring me home. In all three
parables which Jesus tells in response to the question of why he eats with
sinners, he puts the emphasis of God’s initiative. God is the shepherd who goes
looking for his lost sheep. God is the woman who lights a lamp, sweeps out the
house, and searches everywhere for her lost coin until she has found it. God is
the father who watches and waits for his children, runs out to meet them,
embraces them, pleads with them, begs and urges them to come home.
“It might sound strange, but God wants to find me as much as,
if not more than, I want to find God. Yes, God needs me as much as I need God.
God is not the patriarch who stays home, doesn’t move, and expects his children
to come to him, apologize for their aberrant behavior, beg for forgiveness, and
promise to do better. To the contrary, he leaves the house, ignoring his
dignity by running toward them, pays no heed to apologies and promises of
change, and brings them to the table richly prepared for them.
“I am beginning now to see how radically the character of my
spiritual journey will change when I no longer think of God as hiding out and
making it as difficult as possible for me to find him, but, instead, as the one
who is looking for me while I am doing the hiding. When I look through God’s
eyes at my lost self and discover God’s joy at my coming home, then my life may
become less anguished and more trusting.
“Wouldn’t it be good to increase God’s joy by letting God
find me and carry me home and celebrate my return with the angels? Wouldn’t it
be wonderful to make God smile by giving God the chance to find me and love me
lavishly? Questions like these raise a real issue: that of my own self-concept.
Can I accept that I am worth looking for? Do I believe that there is a real
desire in God to simply be with me?
“Here lies the core of my spiritual struggle: the struggle
against self-rejection, self-contempt, and self-loathing. It is a very fierce
battle because the world and its demons conspire to make me think about myself
as worthless, useless, and negligible. Many consumerist economies stay afloat
by manipulating the low self-esteem of their consumers and by creating
spiritual expectations through material means. As long as I am kept ‘small,’ I
can easily be seduced to buy things, meet people, or go places that promise a
radical change in self-concept even though they are totally incapable of
bringing this about. But every time I allow myself to be thus manipulated or
seduced, I will have still more reasons for putting myself down and seeing
myself as the unwanted child.”
Don’t you just love that? I can so relate to him in having that view of God sometimes: up there on His throne, one ear half-turned away from me until I shape up and turn again to Him. So wrong. His hands are always extended out to us. Always! But being that we're human and [hopefully] fighting that daily uphill battle to overcome tendencies of the natural man and temptations of the devil, odds are we mess up a lot, further distancing ourselves from Him. And yet, “For all this . . . his hand is stretched out still.” Jacob reminds us “how merciful is our God unto us, for he remembereth [us] . . . and he stretches forth his hands unto [us] all the day long.” I think of the father of the prodigal son, imagine him going outside every day to see if today would be the day his son came back to him. I think of his joy in knowing that his son finally came to himself and realized that, regardless of the appeal of the world, the greatest happiness he’d know would be with his father. I just love that connection we can make between this story and of ourselves making that painful, mistake-and-temptation-ridden journey back to our Heavenly Father. “When I look through God’s eyes at my lost self and discover God’s joy at my coming home, then my life may become less anguished and more trusting.”
(Other images of the prodigal son:)
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