I HAVE SOMETHING TO WRITE ABOUT AGAIN
as always, I hope its coherent. For the past couple days I've been reading Henri Nouwen's
Return of the Prodigal Son, which deals with the parable of... the Prodigal son. What makes this so interesting is that he does this with the aid of a Rembrandt painting of the very parable, delving into a bit of art history as well. Fun elements aside, it made me think about various things, and once again I find myself in a bit of confusion. Nouwen is a pastor, so his analysis is taken with a religious undertone, which is fine. Actually, it makes it better for me, since I'm at a time when my faith is... not as strong as it should be.
Let's get the easy portion of the parable aside. This parable is famous cause it gives a very picturesque example of the unbound and everlasting love that God has for everyone, sinner and "saint" alike. His love is shown through the younger son, the prodigal in question. In the parable, the younger son asks for his inheritance (which apparently is tantamount to wishing your father dead... nono) and squanders it in a "distant land" on a life of debauchery and lust. He finds himself working for an employer which deems him unfit to eat the very husks that he feeds the pigs. The prodigal finally decides in his destitute state that he would rather work like a slave under his father, so he returns to his father. Upon his return, the father is overcome with joy and slaughters the calf that they have been fattening for the prodigal's feast.
It is an example that hits close to home. Unconditional and unquestioning is His love, despite what shortcomings we may face. It is very comforting to know that there will be someone out there who will love us for who we are, no matter how deeply we may fall into sin. However, there is a conditional in this relationship, so there still exists a need for morals and good works. However unconditional His love may be, the person in question must be willing to accept that love, with all of their heart, with open arms. It is a relationship that works both ways. I think thats what makes this relationship with God so hard, cause we have to be willing to accept it. And with the faith I have now, I don't think I'm in the position to say what accepting His unconditional love really entails. But, what I do know is that his love is still there, waiting for the moment that I finally figure it out and just make that step toward those open arms. It might take me my whole life, through various pits and valleys, body battered and spirit exhausted. But, the hope that will sustain me is that despite all that, it will still be there, waiting. That is the beauty of the younger son side of the parable.
The role of the elder son is the more interesting one, the one that I take issue with. In the parable, the elder son is working in the fields while the sounds of festivity reach his ears. He heads home and his father runs toward him, beckoning him to partake in the return of his lost younger brother. The elder brother then replies (not verbatim, just what I think I would say in the situation) "I have worked diligently, without complaint, for all these years and not once have I had a celebration in my name. And now, when my brother comes back from a life of debauchery, you kill the calf we've been fattening for his celebration." The elder son refuses to go in, but the father pleads with him, saying "And for that, I do love you. All I have is yours."
Hopefully I captured the spirit of the elder son. As much as I can relate with the younger son, I think I sympathize with the elder son more since I am the eldest in my family. He addresses this, and I think this hit me the most. The eldest son has this weight on his/her shoulders, to be upstanding and succeed, to be an example for their younger siblings, to be the most temperate and obedient. Although lately I can concede that I haven't really felt all that recently, I have felt this sort of weight throughout my life. At times, it feels like someone younger than you has this ability to be a little less stiff, to be a little more reckless. It feels like a freedom that the eldest isn't entitled to.
Aside from that, the eldest son sets up an example for those who feel that fault does not lie with them, that they have done all that is "required" to be one of God's children. It is a testament to how imperfect we are. The elder son is in fact a sinner like his younger brother, even though his sins might not be to the same extent. Its a very dangerous place, makes people judgemental and critical of others. It leads to arrogance, to a self-assured feeling that you can do no wrong. So, on the surface, the message I brought home from all this is that we are all sinners, and if we cannot accept that, we do not have the humility that is next to divinity.
This made me pretty angry. To the elder son, it feels much like a betrayal, almost an injustice. If I was in the same situation, I would have a similar outburst: Why does love come so easily to someone who doesn't seem to deserve it at all? Why did I have to work so hard to live up to my fathers expectations, only to see such recognition given to my brother who deserted us so long ago? Whats fair in all this? What was so wrong with me that you don't give me the same love?
Of course, the answer is His love is unconditional and impartial, so both sons are loved equally. After all, the father did say "All I have is yours." Ok, now the love is equal. But, why did I have to work so hard to attain what my brother got by just messing up his life and coming back? This... I didn't find the answer for.
What is it to live a good life? What is it to be moral? This is what I hate about ethics, cause its never one thing. The hardest dichotomy I found when I studied all those useless ethical theories (they didn't help me anyway... and I didn't do too well in that class... blah) is that between the intention, the heart of our actions, and the results of our actions themselves. What is more important, if there is such a hierarchy?
If you state that the heart of actions is the most important, you run into many problems. I think there was a saying from somewhere... I forget "The path to hell is paved with good intentions." The actions undertaken might have been to benefit someone, but the very action might have indirectly hurt many others. Does an action still have the same impact if you fail? You really want to help the person, but by doing so you may hurt them even more. Is this a call for inaction? Not by any means. I'm in the crowd that says doing something is better than doing nothing. Even still, I think the intention of any action is insufficient, cause the results do matter.
If the results of actions are the most important, than it would undermine the very parable I described. The elder son has done everything "right," and yet there is something missing. By questioning the love that his father has for him in such a manner, his intentions might have not been in harmony with what good acts entails. Good acts are those that are done because there is a desire to do the very act for itself, as in you do them cause they are considered "good." I might be writing myself into a corner, but basically you intend to do good cause they are good, and nothing much else.
To make a long debate short, there is a place for both the intention and result of an action. I don't think anyone will make a convincing case for the greater importance of either (which incidentally seems the same way in ethics... as far as im concerned) So, even though I can understand the situation of arrogance in the elder son, I still can't come to terms with the contrast between the younger and elder son. It just seems so... unfair.
Well, "not everyone who worked hard succeeds. But, everyone who succeeds works hard." Life is too tough this way, I think I still be asking "Why does he have it so easy (making money, working out, getting girls, etc etc)." Guess this is one of those "the journey is more interesting than the destination" sort of things. More to come later.
