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Click here to read some versions of the Story of the Prodigal Son.
Click here to see the Nouwen's book at Amazon.Com.
Click here to see Rembrandt's painting: The Return of the Prodigal Son.
The Elder Son
I am the “Elder Son.” At times, my identity is interwoven with the characteristics that so readily possess him. Anger, resentment and envy rush forth when others, more irresponsible, receive rewards that they do not deserve. After all my efforts to be “good, acceptable, likeable, and a worthy example of others,” I am plagued with the question of purpose and impact.[1] Does it really matter and for what purpose. It feels unjust that others receive so freely and easily.
Like the psalmist, I am prone to ask, “Why do the wicked prosper?” However, my question is probably better phrased, “Why don’t I prosper?” In regards to my relationships, I have especially tried to live rightly. Of course, this is where I feel the greatest sting. In the same regards as the Elder Son, I secretly long for significance and love while trying on my own to attain it. A desire for someone to exercise the same care and consideration towards me, which I wholeheartedly attempt to live out towards others. In that vain wish, I live trapped in the darkness of my heart. Just as the Elder Son steamed and brewed his own vain desire into a dark, thick resentment.
Honestly, the resentful burden is not necessarily due to others receiving or even a lack of recognition or rewards. The weight is due primarily to my own over-achieving perfectionism. The work and the dedication of attempting to receive attention, affection and recognition is the bondage of my heart. As I strive to attain these, out of my own self-righteousness I fail to receive them. What I thought would bring me life ushers in greater degrees of death as I attempt to earn what is freely given without my strife. Once again, I find that I have wandered away from the home of God’s heart.
My heart becomes suspect of the love I have not received, because I think that love should look or feel a certain way based on my efforts to attain it. I begin to live in the pathology of darkness: every move requiring a counter-move, every gesture- evaluation, every remark- analysis.[2] As Nouwen expressed, “There is the fear that I am excluded again.” [3] Having experienced exclusion, I fall victim to this fear. I can visualize a spiral of self-rejection, and rejection in my own life. My strife was always to become something better than I was, because who I was did not seem acceptable enough. Out of my own self-rejection it was easy to perceive that others would reject me as well. Thus, it would lead to what I most feared (and still do), further rejection. [4] Rather than my Father’s house, I occasionally dwell in insecurity feeling unaccepted, disliked, and unloved.
My joy stolen by my own resentfulness, I am faced with receiving what I did not deserve: God’s unconditional love, mercy, kindness, and grace. Still prone to the resentfulness of my heart, God works in me, developing a sense of gratitude. I can celebrate with those who have received knowing that does not diminish my identity or the Father’s love for me. I must be willing to receive the love He so readily gives if I want to experience freedom.
In order to be my true self, free to give and receive love, I must let go, surrender and trust God expressing my gratitude as I exercise a challenging, counter-intuitive, leap of faith. “The leap of faith always means loving without expecting to be loved in return, giving without wanting to receive, inviting without hoping to be invited, holding without asking to be held.”[5]
