Am I a Prodigal and a Squanderer?

Friday, Sep. 27, 2019

Live. Evil. Vile. Veil. The same four letters, depending on their order, spell words of wildly divergent meanings. Likewise, we can arrange our reaction to everyday episodes to see them as good or evil, veiled or straightforward, and more than one response is possible to the same circumstances. Many years ago I was sitting at a writers’ conference, enthralled by the speaker’s presentation, and happened to look at the woman sitting next to me. She was staring out the window, wearing an expression of pure boredom. She and I were in the same room, hearing the same words, but having very different experiences.

So it is, too, with our reactions to the Gospel readings on Sunday. Two weeks ago we heard the parable of the Prodigal Son. Many commentators focus on the wayward youth who went out to experience the world, only to repent of his actions. He is the most obvious character in the story, but in more recent years I have sympathized with the elder son, like him asking God why he is rewarding the returning sinner when I deserve but have not received recognition for my years of service. I have also grown enough spiritually that I can look with longing at the father’s response and hope that someday I will have the charity to watch from afar and run to welcome with open arms the prodigal, and rejoice wildly because they have come safely back from their sinful life. 

This past week we heard the story of the dishonest steward. It seems strange that Jesus would praise corrupt behavior, but a closer reading shows that he was instead commending the shrewd way in which the steward, about to be called to account for wasting his master’s property, suddenly gives it away at a reduced cost. If we put ourselves in the place of the steward, we must ask ourselves what property we have been entrusted with, and the answer is the gifts and talents granted us by God. With that in mind, when at the Last Judgement we are called to explain how we have managed the wealth which was given to us, will we have to admit that we hoarded it for our own selfish use, or will we have been faithful enough stewards of that which we did not deserve that we will be called good and faithful servants who are worthy to be entrusted with the true riches of heaven? 

In commenting on this parable, Asterius of Amasea, a Catholic bishop and theologian of the fourth century, points out that although we would like to believe that we have the absolute right to our possessions, in truth we dwell on earth “as sojourners, and strangers, and wanderers, and when we do not expect it, we are led whither we would not go. And when it seems good to the Lord we are deprived of the possession of our wealth. …”

Asterius has a wonderful explanation of why Jesus would see the unfaithful steward’s behavior as commendable: “Anyone anticipating his end and his removal to the next world, lightens the burden of his sins by good deeds, either by canceling the obligations of debtors, or by supplying the poor with abundance, by giving what belongs to the Lord, he gains many friends, who will attest his goodness before the Judge, and secure him by their testimony a place of happiness.”

 While I am not anticipating being removed to the next world anytime soon, I’m well aware that I know not when the master of the house will come. Therefore, I am working to follow the example of the steward and give away the gifts the Lord has given me so as to have a place in my father’s house when the time does come for me to be called home.