As I turn the page of my missalette to the Gospel for the 4th Sunday of Lent, my mind sighs, “Here we go again”. How many times since childhood have I read and pondered “The Prodigal Son”, an age-old parable of love, sin and forgiveness. Turning from the son’s transgressions, these days my focus lingers on the longsuffering father who lovingly and mercifully welcomes the errant son back home. Amazingly, the father asks no questions but envelops his son in an embrace of warmth and forgiveness. I find myself asking, “When have I been a forgiving person? When have I been forgiven?” Ah yes – my mind settles on the forgiving mother!
When I was a little girl, my parents went to town for groceries, leaving me and my siblings at home. They weren’t more than in the car when my sister and I began running around making noise and having fun. Somehow, we chose the revered spare bedroom to cavort and play. As fate would have it, I bumped into the beautiful golden hued antique lamp and sent it smashing to the floor. Imagine my horror as I surveyed the treasured lamp now in shards. We pondered what Mom would say when she arrived home.
Finally, the back door opened, footsteps crossed the kitchen and into the hallway. The house was ghostly quiet. I’ll never forget my mother’s shocked countenance as she entered the bedroom and surveyed the damage. Not a word was said as she bent down and began to clean up the mess. the two of us sadly crouched on the floor handing her delicate fragments of gilt-edged glass. There were no angry words, no reprimands. I felt complete forgiveness wash over by being. My soul was quietly restored to peace. We had a forgiving mother.
If my mother’s love was beneficent and merciful how much more expansive and universal is God’s loving, healing presence as portrayed in the magnificent parable of the wayward son and his magnaimous father.
- Jean Moylan, csj
You might enjoy this lovely song by Keith Green, The Prodigal Son Suite, which tells the story of the Prodigal Son is such a loving way.