Sabbath Devotional :: As I Have Loved You
My favorite parable is the Prodigal Son. (Luke 15:11-32) I love the story of redemption and love. I never tire of reading this popular parable which is overflowing with lessons for me. Naturally, I usually focus on the prodigal son but there are two simple exchanges between the father and the older son that have helped me learn more about the love Christ offers us and the love he expects from us.
The prodigal was not only whole-heartedly welcomed home with hugs and kisses, but celebrated with the best robe, a ring, shoes, fatted calf, music, and dancing. Perhaps it was the celebration and not the welcome that bothered the elder brother. His jealous reaction is, to me, understandable.
When he found out the reason for the music and dancing, “he was angry, and would not go in: therefore came his father out, and entreated him.”
In his anger, the brother refuses to even enter the house. The phrase that I love is simple and profound: “therefore came his father out.”
I think we all love the way the father greets the prodigal son with compassion, seeing him from a great way off, and running to him. He shows this same love with the elder son when he comes outside and meets his son where he is.
When my own son was in high school, he was struggling with some things and hadn’t been to church for a few weeks. A new Young Men’s president was called, someone who was a stranger to us. He asked to come to our home to visit my son. Initially, my son was rigid, responding to queries with grunts and resistance. The YM president was undeterred. He asked some get-to-know-you questions and then gave my son a handmade Christmas gift. He asked for a hug before he left. During the brief visit, I saw my son’s body language melt. Despite his resistance, he was enveloped in love and compassion. The YM president did not invite him or challenge him or call him to repentance. He offered him love and told him he was welcome.
This YM president reminds me of the father of the prodigal. He chose to visit my son in person, rather than send him texts about upcoming activities. My son would not go in, therefore, this leader came out.
I don’t hesitate to say that that simple visit changed the trajectory of my son’s high school years.
In the parable, after the father comes out, the elder son explains his jealousy that despite his own loyalty and hard work, he had not received the same gifts and party that the prodigal had. He says, “But as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf.”
The father begins his response with reassurance, “Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine.” He had confidence in his eldest son, appreciated him, and assured him that he would receive an appropriate reward for his consistence diligence.
But then he says: “It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.”
In his frustration, the elder son angrily refers to his brother as “thy son.”
His father responds with a gentle correction: “thy brother.”
The elder son wants to distance himself from his brother. He calls him “thy son” in an effort to remove any relationship between himself and his wayward brother. We do this all the time. We try to distance ourselves from people who are difficult or not living the way we think they ought to be. We can learn from the father’s reaction. By referring to the prodigal as “thy brother,” he reminds his eldest son that he has an important relationship with his brother, an element of stewardship for him, and a shared place in the family.
We might ask, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” and the simple answer is yes.
When I was a full-time missionary, I was at a ward missionary correlation meeting. I said, “We’ve been working with a less-active woman named Sandy. She says she would like to start coming to church again if she only had a friend. . . .”
The ward mission leader jumped in. He said, “I know Sandy. I’ve known her for years and she does this. She says she wants to come, so you go out of your way to try to help her, but nothing ever comes of it. She’s not going to change. She’s not going to stick with it . . . .”
He went on and on and on and I didn’t know how to respond. You can imagine my young, hopeful heart deflating. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the stake missionaries, a fairly recent convert named Rose, watching him talk and watching my reaction to him. Rose interrupted and said some of the most Christlike words I’ve ever heard: “Sisters, what’s her phone number?”
At that moment, Rose claimed Sandy as her sister and took responsibility for her. Instead of looking for reasons to distance herself because Sandy might not be worth her time, she found reasons to try to embrace someone who needed a friend.
It was as if she said, “This, my sister, was lost but is found.”
The prodigal’s father’s interactions with his elder son are meaningful to me. His willingness to meet his son where he was to extend to him personalized compassion shows such kindness. And his correction, reminding his angry son that his brother is also a person of great worth has helped me adjust my perception of difficult people in my life. This is the unreasonable love that followers of Christ experience from Him. And it is this unreasonable love that He described when He said, “As I have loved you, love one another.”
Love as He loves. With endless compassion and hope. Unreasonably.
Megan Rawlins Woods is director of the nonpartisan root at Mormon Women for Ethical Government.
