A Holy Family

St. Luke, Evangelist

My son is dealing with a bully in his kindergarten class.

Perhaps I should not be so blunt.  I am still trying to work out whether Thomas is annoying this other child and provoking his wrath, or if this other child is going out of his way to be cruel to Thomas.  But it does seem that the other boy has spoken to Thomas in an inappropriate and violent way.  

Last night Thomas fell asleep in our bed.  He is going to be too big to want to cuddle soon, so I am soaking up every minute of affection I can get.  As I lay beside him and watched him sleep, I felt a surge of protectiveness and indignation well up in me: how could anyone be cruel to him, tell him that they wanted to kill him, threaten him?  How could anyone exclude him or insult him?  I can't fathom it.  It fills me with anguish. 

My son is my heart embodied.  When he hurts, my heart is replete with pain.

Then it occurred to me: this is how God feels towards us.  When He sees any of us excluded, insulted, threatened.  God is father, God is mother, to each and every one of us.  He is not generically a father or mother, distantly and vaguely.  He is my father, personally, intimately.  He is your father.  We are, all of us and each of us, God's heart embodied on earth.  His adopted children.  When we hurt, He hurts.  

His anger towards sinners is because sin hurts the children whom He loves.  It is no different from my anger towards this bullying child.  God gets angry when His children are in pain.  He gets angry when His children hurt each other, insult each other, exclude each other.  

When we hurt, God wants to gather us in His arms.  He wants to console us.  He wants us to turn to Him.  Imagine the pain, as a parent, to have a child who does not trust you, who will not confide in you.  God feels that way too, when we refuse to share our sorrows with Him.  He longs for us to lay our heads on His chest, to unburden our souls onto Him, to tell Him all our worries and our anxieties.  He hungers and thirsts for us to come to Him, so desperately.  Come to me, all you who labor and are weary, and I will give you rest.  He does not speak these words idly.  They are words of longing.  He wants us to let Him care for us, as tenderly as any mother cares for her children.  

This is the Good News.  God as our Abba.  We do wrong to God when we withhold our tears and our pain from Him.  He wants to share them with us.  This is what He sent His Son to do.

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If God is our Father, then of course Jesus is our brother: the elder brother, perhaps, who shares His birthright with us, though we, rebellious younger siblings, do not deserve it.  Jesus is the older sibling in the tale of the Prodigal Son: the one who stays home, serves His Father - but who, instead of arguing when the Father welcomes back the wayward son, rejoices with the Father, celebrates and shares with us what is rightfully His.  

Elder brothers get short shrift in Scripture.  Cain and Abel: it is the sacrifice of the younger brother, Abel, that is arbitrarily accepted by God.  Cain has to decide: to accept God's will - "to do what is right."  God's acceptance of Abel's offering is a test to Cain: if  you let go of your jealousy and anger and "do what is right," you too will be accepted.  But Cain does not pass the test: he kills Abel.  God, however, does not wholly abandon Cain: Cain is cursed because he is a murderer, but God still grants Cain his protection.  The "mark of Cain" is a sign both of Cain's crime and of God's everlasting watchfulness over him.

Jacob and Esau: by trickery and deception, Jacob steals Esau's birthright and blessing.  Esau wants to kill Jacob; Jacob flees.  But later, Esau does better than Cain: he eventually forgives Jacob.  When Jacob returns, Esau "runs to meet" him - forgives him before Jacob can even apologize.  For Jacob, receiving Esau's forgiveness is like encountering the "face of God." Nor does God forget Esau: his descendants, the Edomites, lurk on the sidelines of Jacob's family. They too are part of God's family.

It is in this context that we must understand the Parable of the Prodigal Son.  Jesus is the elder brother.  It is Jesus' birthright that we make claim to when we approach God hoping for salvation.  But Jesus is not Cain: He is not jealous, He does not deny our right to be accepted by God.  Jesus atones for Cain's sin: He "does what is right," accepts God's will.  Jesus is like Esau: when we return to apologize for stealing what is not rightfully ours, Jesus runs out to meet us, welcomes us into His arms.  Jesus is not like the older brother in the narrative of the Prodigal Son: Jesus understands that God's inheritance is broad enough for both children - that God has a place for both Cain and Abel, Jacob and Esau, Israelite and Edomite, Gentile and Jew.  Jesus undergoes the test of both Cain and Esau - and Jesus defeats temptation.