4th Sunday of Lent, C March 30, 2025
Fr. Alexander Albert St. Mary Magdalen, Abbeville
What do you call this story? Parable of the prodigal son, right? That’s not what Jesus calls it. There isn’t a name, actually. Those bolded titles in most bibles are added by editors. I think that, if we asked Jesus what the name of this parable should be, he wouldn’t call it the prodigal son. I think he’d call it the parable of the stubborn brother.
Don’t get me wrong, I love to emphasize the prodigal son’s return and his father’s mercy, especially when I’m talking to someone in the confessional or addressing people who’ve been away from God for a while. But what about the original context? Look at how it starts: “to them Jesus addressed this parable.” To whom? The Pharisees and scribes. Yes, this is a story of the Father’s mercy, but it is originally a warning to the people who already live with the Father. That’s us, y’all. That’s me. I am the scribe, the teacher, the religious leader. I know the law and have belonged to God for most of my life. Many of you have belonged to God for just as long or longer.
So, what is Jesus saying to us who are already in Church on a Sunday Morning? Love your brother, even when he sins. When the younger brother returns home, what does the father do? Runs to him, embraces him, throws him a feast. Take note of what the father says: “this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again.” This son of mine. No distance, no rejection there. The father has never stopped seeing him as his son. He doesn’t even describe the son’s sin, only that he was dead and lost. The sin isn’t part of the son’s identity.
Compare that to the older brother’s retort to the father: “when your son returns who swallowed up your property.” Not “my brother,” but your son. Compare that to Adam when he was caught in his sin: “The woman whom you put here with me – she gave me the fruit.” Not “my wife,” but the woman you gave me. We don’t want to be identified with the sinner, we don’t want to acknowledge the fundamental connection and relationship that means we belong to one another.
The older son doesn’t just ignore his own relationship to his younger brother, he defines him by his sin: “who swallowed up your property.” He even tries to pretend he’s objective, focusing on how the younger one offended the father, on how the Father ought to be offended, as if this isn’t really about his envy and jealousy, his anger that his younger brother “got away” with so much. And how does the father respond? “Your brother was dead and has come to life again.” He belongs to you too and his sin is not who he is. Sin is something that killed him, not something that defines him. So yes, we should rejoice because, until now, the one that belonged to both of us was dead. Him being alive, him coming back to us takes nothing away from us. In fact, all it does is give us back what is ours! Don’t you see, your brother and my son is ours, him coming back makes us richer! Why pout about that? That’s like losing your wallet and getting angry when someone brings it back! You are richer now, so come and feast! You just said you wanted a feast, so come on!
So, why is the older son so angry? Why is it so hard for him to accept the way his father loves his brother? Because he does not actually believe he is loved. We so often don’t believe that we are loved like that. Stingy, sin-blinded souls that we are, some part of us believes that any love given to someone else means less love for us. Just like the younger son at the beginning of the story, the older son sees only his inheritance and his wealth – something that if someone gets more, it means I get less. But notice how the Father never worries about it. Could you imagine mortgaging your home, giving half of it to your son and then just completely forgetting about it when he wastes it all? Like, that’s the kind of thing that could lose you your home entirely. When a few hundred thousand dollars go missing, most of us can’t just… move on.
But the father does. He even throws a party. He tells the older son, “everything I have is yours.” He doesn’t say “everything I have left” or “half of my property” or “whatever your brother didn’t take.” He says “everything” as if the father can magically multiply what’s left to cover both sons and not even worry about it.
Why? Because this is a parable, not investment advice. In a parable, not everything is as it seems. The wealth in this story, the “property” isn’t literal money. It’s a symbol of something else. It’s a symbol of Father’s loving providence. So long as they stay close to the Father, this kind of wealth never runs out. The son leaving with half the property doesn’t actually cost the father anything. God’s wealth can be divided without shrinking because God’s ways are not our ways. The son leaving with his “share” is the son disconnecting himself from the infinite source of love. It’s more like him taking a bottle of water from a spring and leaving. The spring of water is fine, but once the son leaves the spring, his bottle quickly runs out.
The older son, however, stays by the spring. He also has a bottle and he can fill it as much as he wants. What he doesn’t realize is that he doesn’t need to. The spring is right there. He complains that his father never gives him a goat to feast on and the father is almost baffled by that complaint. What do you mean? You’re right here, everything I have is yours! No one is stopping the older son from drinking as much as he wants right out of the spring, but the brother is so focused on what his bottle can hold he doesn’t realize that. It’s not that the father doesn’t have enough wealth to spare, it’s that the older son’s bottle – his soul – is too small to hold it. His envy has so shrunk his soul that’s he’s on the verge of refusing to enter heaven just because his brother is there.
Why does Jesus use money in this parable instead of using a spring of water and bottles like I just did? Because it’s a parable. He wants to challenge our way of thinking. He uses “property” on purpose because he knows we think of property as limited, we constantly compare everything to cost and value and competition. So, by casually acting like this father can ignore all the rules of scarcity and supply and demand, he’s forcing us to question how we view the world and, most importantly, how we view God. God’s ways are not our ways.
I called this the parable of the stubborn brother and said Jesus might say the same. He’d agree with my point, but more likely he’d prefer the title, “Parable of the Generous Father.” Merciful, yes. The younger son receives incredible mercy and for those lost in sin, they need to know this: it doesn’t matter what you’ve done, doesn’t matter how much you’ve “cost” us, just come home. For most of us, however, we need to learn this: God already loves you! Stop trying to earn it! He’s already ready to give you more than you could ever want! The one holding you back from immeasurable wealth is you!
Sin is us putting limits on God’s “wealth,” his love. Either sin cuts us off from God completely – like the younger son – or it shrinks our souls and limits our access to the wealth all around us, like the older son. So, be reconciled to God! Repent and receive the treasure he offers. Repent and rejoice in others who repent, for what God gives to them does not limit what he gives to you. Indeed, we belong to each other and what he gives to your brother, to your sister, he gives also to you. For, we belong to one another and in the end, there’s only one Father, one home, and one feast. Taste it and see the goodness of the Lord… goodness that recovers the lost and even restores the dead to life.
Excellent homily the fourth Sunday in lent. The best explanation I have heard.