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PARENTING, PATHS, & PRODIGAL SONS:

  • brittbryan1001
  • Jun 18, 2022
  • 6 min read

Updated: Aug 20, 2022

Why knowing it all isn't all there is to know.



PARENTING


In honor of Father’s Day, I thought I’d open today’s post with this quote from Tim Russert: “The older I get, the smarter my father seems to get.”

Which reminds me of another one that goes: “Sooner or later, we all quote our mothers.”


The spirit behind both of these sayings is that the older we get, the more we appreciate our parents. I don’t know why it's this way, but it seems to be a universal truth that we don’t listen to our parent’s wisdom until we are adults.


When we are young, we think we have all the answers.


We don’t need anyone else telling us what to do, thankyouverymuch. Which reminds me of the meme that went around a while back that said, “I don’t need Google. I have teenagers that know it all.” (Those of us who are parents of teenagers know this truth deep down in our exasperated souls.)

I think most parents have experienced the feeling of frustration that comes from watching our kids make mistakes, when we want so badly for them to just listen to us because we know what we are talking about gosh darn it!! And when things turn out exactly like we knew they would, we have to fight the urge to say, “I told you so!”


But us being right means that something went wrong for our children, and as parents, the number one thing we want to do for our children is to protect them. And maybe as part of our attempt at protecting them, we try and impart some of our wisdom onto them, so they will be set up for happiness and success. We know they won’t listen but still, we try.

But even if we successfully equip our kids with all they need to navigate life’s challenges, they still have to walk their own path.



PATHS


Proverbs 3:5-6 says, "Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.”

What jumps out at me in that verse is that God will make our path straight. This implies the path will get pretty twisty and turny if it needs to be MADE straight. So, we ought to expect life to be full of detours and missed turns and altogether wrong routes.


It doesn’t say, “God will determine your path for you” or “God will direct you to your path.” We have to do that work. But when we find our path, trusting in God’s wisdom will allow us to stay on the path, keeping it straight.

The thing is, we all have different paths.


Yours is not the same as mine and our kids’ paths will be different from ours. We can do real damage to ourselves and others when we compare our paths to that of someone else’s, or judge or envy another's path. When we don’t get what we want or think we deserve, we feel offended and indignant and we want justice. We might shun people in hopes they will get what they deserve. This attitude hurts no one but ourselves, and it’s a recipe for a bitter life.

The story of the prodigal son in Luke 15 illustrates this idea well. This story has other implications, of course, but I think it also highlights what happens when we compare our path to someone else’s.

And it’s an example of a kid who knows it all, but a father who knows better.


PRODIGAL SONS


The Return of the Prodigal Son, painting by Rembrandt


Henri Nouwen (1932-1996) was a Dutch Catholic priest and theologian who has this brilliant book by the same name as the famous Rembrandt painting. In “The Return of The Prodigal Son,” Nouwen describes how he worked through stages where he identified with each of the three characters in this parable: the younger son, the older son, and the father.


I think a lot of us have probably spent some time in our lives feeling like the younger son. The one who leaves home, squanders his inheritance, and then returns, broken and ashamed. I’ve certainly felt lost and lonely and full of regret, wondering if there is a way out of the mess I’ve made. And I’ve experienced times in my life where I felt distant and longed to return to my Heavenly Father.


In the book, Nouwen felt like he identified mostly with the younger son for those reasons. But at some point, a friend suggested maybe he was really more like the older son, the one who ungraciously refuses to forgive his brother and welcome him home and who resents the father for doing so. Ouch.


Nouwen wrote, “I suddenly saw myself in a completely new way. I saw my jealousy, my anger, my touchiness, doggedness and sullenness, and, most of all, my subtle self-righteousness. … For a time it became impossible to see how I could ever have thought of myself as the younger son. I was the elder son for sure.”


If we are being honest, we’ve also probably felt like the older brother at one time or another.


We work hard and it really gets under our skin when someone else does well who doesn’t work as hard as we do. They just had it handed to them. They just know the right people. She cheated and didn’t get caught. He lied on his resume. That friend stabbed me in the back. That person doesn’t deserve it. So we get angry and refuse to go to the party, metaphorically speaking.


I don’t think that’s exactly wrong, per se. I think it’s human nature and we have to fight that instinct.

In fact, we have to fight the instinct of both the sons. We have to overcome the immaturity that leads to selfish, rash, destructive decisions; and we have to wrestle with the score-keeping, holier-than-thou-ness we may feel when we compare ourselves to others.


In the book, another friend urged Nouwen to become like the father in the story.

What does it look like to love like the father does?


Think about it. First, he didn’t have to let his son go. He could have put his foot down and refused him his freedom. He was in a position of power and control; but he gave his child the space to make his own choices. Holy moly, that’s the hardest thing for me as a parent…

Then after the son left and royally screwed it all up, the father had every right to be angry and to punish the son or shun him altogether. When someone wrongs us, we have that same right. We can be angry and miserable and refuse to forgive. Or, we can love like the father does.

Look at the father. He’s happy. He calls for the fattened calf and invites the whole town to a party! He’s breaking out the fine china!

The father does not say, “Well, let me wait a few weeks and see if my son proves himself before I forgive him. I might throw a party after a month or so, let’s just see how this whole thing plays out first. Fool me once, am I right??” He could be mad but he lets that go and is happier for it.

Contrast the father’s disposition with the older son’s. How would you rather go through life?

When we compare ourselves to others, or refuse to forgive, it keeps us from the party. Our resentment robs us of a life of joy and ensures that we never break out the fine china.



I think its interesting that Luke doesn’t tell us if the older son ever ends up going to the party. Maybe that’s intentional. Maybe he left it open-ended to make a point that we have a choice in how we respond. If we decide to release that resentment and go to the party, we may never know if our efforts will be rewarded. We may never see the fruits of our labor when we do the right thing.


If we love like the father does and forgive freely, there’s a real chance that we might not ever see the pay off. But the pay off is not why we love.


We do not love because of or in hopes of preferred results. That’s a strings-attached kind of love. That’s called conditional love. Which is not love, actually. And clearly, the father loved unconditionally. And so when we love like the father of the prodigal son, we love as God loves us.

This all makes me wonder how God must feel, watching us make our mistakes. Wanting to intervene to keep us from going down wrong paths that will cause us heartache and pain. But true love does not control, and so we are allowed to make those choices, and we must find our own way.


But when we do finally get it together and decide to come home, he’s there with open arms, just waiting to make our paths straight.

To all the fathers today, I pray you love like that.


Find Henri Nouwen's, “The Return of The Prodigal Son” on Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/Return-Prodigal-Son-Story-Homecoming/dp/023252078X/ref=asc_df_023252078X/?tag=hyprod-20&linkCode=df0&hvadid=532827134322&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=4182383635381869345&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9010778&hvtargid=pla-460510822755&psc=1

 
 
 

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