A devotion for the fourth Sunday in Lent

Writing our own ending to the Prodigal Son story

by Sarah Henken, mission co-worker serving in Colombia | Special to Presbyterian News Service

Sarah Henken, mission co-worker serving in Colombia

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

The Parable of the Lost Sheep

Now the tax collectors and sinners were all gathering around to hear Jesus. 2 But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” 3 Then Jesus told them this parable:

The Parable of the Lost Son

11 Jesus continued: “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them.13 “Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. 14 After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16 He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.

17 “When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18 I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ 20 So he got up and went to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.

21 “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’

22 “But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.

25 “Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27 ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’

28 “The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’

31 “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”

BARRANQUILIA, Colombia — It was dark; our only illumination came from the stars and the faint light of electric candles. Frogs and crickets serenaded us, and it struck me as a beautiful and holy space. The labyrinth was in a small clearing, surrounded by trees, under the open sky, so I stopped and looked up at the stars every so often as I walked. It was the final night of camp at Kirkmont Center, and we were concluding our vespers service by walking the labyrinth. As I headed out of the labyrinth, I came across one young man who said, “Which way is out?” so I said he could follow me. As we walked along the path, I could almost hear him wondering what the point of it all was, and if we were ever going to get out of the labyrinth!

Honestly, if we take walking the labyrinth as a metaphor for life as a disciple of Jesus, I can relate to his confusion. There are days when I myself wonder where in the world the path is taking me, whether I’m actually getting anywhere. But when we came out of the labyrinth (and I heard a quiet, “Finally!” waft over my shoulder), I saw how moved other young people were. Some were clustered together in prayer, and as we walked back to our cabins I heard several comments about how much the experience that night and during the week had meant to them.

We had led a special bilingual camp focused on music and peacemaking for young people from Dayton, Ohio, and from Cartagena, Colombia. The week had been challenging for all of us, getting to know people from different cultures, practicing new languages and new instruments, and getting what sleep we could — much closer to nature than any of us were used to! But by the end of that final night, there was no doubt in my mind that it was all worthwhile.

We talked a lot about peace at camp, including the problems the young people see in their communities in Colombia and in the United States. While some issues they named are particular, many — immigration, poverty, drugs, political tensions — are concerns for youth from both countries. We wondered about what it means for us to consider ourselves peacemakers, whatever our age or location may be. One way we reflected on this was in reading the story of the “Prodigal Son.” We acted it out and paused to ask questions, discuss all the details, and consider with which characters we identified most. In case you don’t recall the story, it goes something like this:

A wealthy man, two sons. Younger one requests an advance on his inheritance, squanders money, decides to ask father for work as a hired hand. Meanwhile, father hopes his son will come home. So, father sees son, runs and scoops him up in a huge bear hug. Son, stuck in his own expectations, recites the speech he’s prepared: “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” Father wastes no words debunking son’s notion of worthiness, just orders a celebratory feast and turns up his favorite dance music. Dutiful older brother comes home from the fields, sees welcome-home party for deadbeat younger brother, stays outside nursing resentment. Father begs him to come in and celebrate, wants both beloved sons together. And then …

Jesus leaves the story unresolved, so we wrote our own endings.

According to one group, love prevails and older brother makes peace with undeserving kid brother. Another group imagines older brother sneaking in at night to murder his brother, has change of heart at the last possible second when younger brother wakes up and apologizes for the hurt he’s caused. Still another group insists that older brother turns his back on father and leaves town instead of welcoming his embarrassment of a brother.

Which story do you think is most likely? Which story would Jesus hope for us to embody?

To learn more about Henken’s ministry, visit presbyterianmission.org/ministries/missionconnections/sarah-henken