LOIS HART
I am not mentioned in the story, but, nevertheless, I was there, and I remember the day my younger son left home, bearing his share of the inheritance, walking down the road happy as could be while his father watched tearfully.
Unlike his older brother who was obedient and respectful, this younger son had a wild and adventurous streak in him, and he constantly pleaded with his father to give him what was due him, and let him get out into the world where all the fun and opportunities awaited. So his father reluctantly, but out of respect for his son’s freedom of choice, let him go. However, he looked longingly down the road month after month hoping for his return.
And then one day I looked out the window, and saw coming up the road, a dirty, ragged man, weak and debilitated. It was my son, and at the same time I saw his father running toward him with arms wide open and crying joyfully. He wrapped him in his arms and kissed him, hardly giving his son a chance to tell his story. He brought him into the house, dressed him in the finest of robes, put a ring on his finger, and restored him to full status as a son. Then he gathered the servants together to arrange a welcome home party.
I can’t say that I initially approved of all this special treatment. I mean, shouldn’t there be a probationary period? What if he were to get bored with life at home, and go off looking for excitement as he did before?
However, as time went by I could see the wisdom of his father’s actions. And I had to admit it was good to hold my boy in my arms again. I sensed that he had changed. He had grown up, and there was a new energy and responsiveness about him.
His father’s immediate and unconditional pardon had unleashed in him a new spirit of creativity. And his joyfulness in being a part of the family again was evident. It certainly was an eye opener for me. I am now convinced of the transforming and liberating power of compassionate forgiveness, both for the giver and for the receiver.
His older brother didn’t come to the party. He stayed away and sulked. His father had never given him a party to celebrate with his friends. And even though his father assured him of his continuing love and respect for him, he could not let go of his bitter and jealous feelings.
What a shame for him to cut himself off from the joys of family life, and from life itself for that matter. Maybe some day when he, himself, is in need of forgiveness, he will understand. We can only hope so. And if that day ever comes, his father and I will both be there to embrace him.
Louis Hart is a deacon at Grace Episcopal Church in Bath.
Local clergy wishing to write should contact Lois Hart at lhart@gwi.net. Lay ministers as well as ordained clergy may contribute.
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