The father in the story of the prodigal son suffered much. He saw his younger son leave, knowing the disappointments, rejections and abuses facing him. He saw his older son become angry and bitter, and was unable to offer him affection and support. A large part of the father’s life has been waiting. He could not force his younger son to come home or his older son to let go of his resentments. Only they themselves could take the initiative to return.
During these long years of waiting the father cried many tears and died many deaths. He was emptied out by suffering. But that emptiness had created a place of welcome for his sons when the time of their return came. We are called to become like that father.
emphasis mine
“You are the only person who can forgive yourself. Once that forgiving has taken place, you can then console yourself with the knowledge that a diamond is the result of extreme pressure… The pressure can make you something quite precious, quite wonderful, quite beautiful and extremely hard.”
—Maya Angelou
Holiday Illustrations From the Book of American Life
After the smell of hotdogs on the Fourth day of July
and spark-shooting fountains cause familial glee,
it’s too hot to wear flip-flops. But school starts anyway.
The pools close, and the pumpkins wear silly faces (some with
paper ears like the one Paul designed). The air smells heavy
with the wetness of fallen leaves or exciting, when raked piles
crackle and burn. The turkey’s in the oven,
and the house smells like yams.
After the tree goes up, and the cat pulls tinsel down,
the crèche holds the Jesus-Baby and Advent-candles glow,
we trade Valentine cards, and the snow blows in (a bit
later than expected). Deep snow-drifts pile up—
reaching the roof of the falling-down shed.
Cherry blossoms and azaleas come forth.
The wind blows yellow pollen all over the car.
The sky has grown dark and the firmament shaken.
We place Jesus’ body in a borrowed tomb
and wait together for three days.
Each blossom on the dogwood forms its symbolic cross.
After Resurrection, a butterfly lingers close to my face.
We smell the delicate scent of roses.
Then “Oh [what] can you see” by the light of any dawn,
at any twilight’s gleam? The weather’s hot, and we
can’t help but notice a steady, impoverished stream
penetrating our southernmost rampart.
How do we welcome home our lost brothers and sisters? By running out to them, embracing them, and kissing them. By clothing them with the best clothes we have and making them our honored guests. By offering them the best food and inviting friends and family for a party. And, most important of all, by not asking for excuses or explanations, only showing our immense joy that they are with us again. (See Luke 15:20-24).
That is being perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect. It is forgiving from the heart without a trace of self-righteousness, recrimination, or even curiosity. The past is wiped out. What counts is the here and now, where all that fills our hearts is gratitude for the homecoming of our brothers and sisters.
emphasis mine
“My first duty is to … live as a member of the human race which is no more (and no less) ridiculous than I am myself. And my first human act is the recognition of how much I owe everybody else.
But the world was made by God and is good, and, unless the world is our mother, we cannot be saints, because we cannot be saints unless we are first of all human.“
Thomas Merton. Entering the Silence, Journals Volume 2. Jonathan Montaldo, editor (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1997): 451.
What are we going to do when we get home? When the two sons of the parable of the prodigal son both have returned to their father, what then? The answer is simple: they have to become fathers themselves. Sons have to become fathers; daughters have to become mothers. Being children of God involves growing up and becoming like God. Jesus doesn’t hesitate to say this: “Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect, be compassionate as your heavenly Father is compassionate.” (See Matthew 5:48 and Luke 6:36). How? By welcoming home our lost brothers and sisters in the way our Father welcomed us home.
emphasis mine
Saturday, July 18 – Time TBA – RiverWalk Gallery – Washington, NC
The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature Reading
and Official Book Release Party for Better With Friends
also featuring Carter Monroe, Phoebe Kate Foster, and Val MacEwan
**
Tuesday, July 28 – 7:00 pm - Central Library -Winston-Salem, NC
Featured Poet for “The Word Is Out”
Reading followed by an Open Mic
**
Going home is a lifelong journey. There are always parts of ourselves that wander off in dissipation or get stuck in resentment. Before we know it we are lost in lustful fantasies or angry ruminations. Our night dreams and daydreams often remind us of our lostness.
Spiritual disciplines such as praying, fasting and caring are ways to help us return home. As we walk home we often realise how long the way is. But let us not be discouraged. Jesus walks with us and speaks to us on the road. When we listen carefully we discover that we are already home while on the way.
emphasis mine
I’m back from a two week trip to Joplin, Missouri to visit family and to Kansas to rail fan. Details to follow.
Home greeted me with 220 e-mail messages. That’s just on one account. One of the those messages was the acceptance of a poem for the Fall Issue of Blue Fifth Review. Thanks Sam.
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