Adishuut growled as he dragged the sheaves into the barn, resentment starting to fill his heart as he glared at his brother chewing olives and flicking the small stones, sometimes at him with great precision and sometimes just past him to make him stop. The smirk on Ko’es’ face and the cheer with each successful strike did not help his mood. It was pointless to moan to his Father, the labour had been divided up supposedly equally, the grain was for him to manage, the cattle his brothers. His tasks however brought very little recognition, unlike the grateful grunts for the Lambs and calves His brother Ko’es brought to the table.
“Why are you stacking them like that ? ” he said, revelling in the fact that for this day his work was done, where as his brother had the entire rest of the afternoon labouring. He could indulge in his greatest pastime… correcting his brother.
Adishuut led down on his mat that night like many others, but there was a small shift in his heart that could almost have gone unnoticed, had the stunning views of the night sky not robbed him sleep. “There has to be more than this” rolled round his mind like a mantra. Missing the beauty of the view, “. This feels hard and pointless”
It was dissatisfaction that became his blanket from then on. The boundaries of the farm he had helped to maintain since a boy became oppressive, The wheat he cut and carried into the stores seemed heavier each day and the smell that had once been a comfort and assurance of home, began to cling to his clothes like dust, and choked him.
Bit by bit, almost imperceptibly the joy he’d once felt in his service to his family and to his father started to erode. The respect and love he’d felt for his father was slowly replaced, not by hate, that would have indicated some passion, no it was replaced by apathy and a little contempt for what seemed like a dull and pointless existence.
There had often been travellers and tradesmen passing by the farm, selling exotic goods and sharing tales of the big cities, places without boundaries or borders. The seed of discontent, embedded and sent the smallest shoot out, this must be the “more than this” he felt drawn to.
It probably seemed like it was an overnight decision to his brother that he would ask for his share of the inheritance and the chance to live what must be a bigger life, one filled with adventure…yes and maybe women, and exotic food and wine. Taking his money with him he could make a fortune and live larger, bigger, better than this. No rules, easy life. No more living “small”. That was for the less inspired he was leaving behind.
It was a surprise to his brother, but it was not a surprise to his father who had seen the turning away of his heart from it’s first inklings. He had watched, knowing that no response from him could turn this tide, that actually to forbid or enforce would be more damaging, no it would have to be a waiting game. A waiting and praying game. even so as he watched him leave his heart broke in ways he never knew could be possible.
Ko’es, the older son on the other hand had gone the other way, there was no let up in his regime, the cattle were fed with exacting amounts, moved from field to field with military precision, he had scoffed at his father for giving into the whims of his brother. He resented the apparent weakness of his Father, but carried out his own tasks with a discipline and precision that took on its own life force. His father, knew the dangers of this too, using control and discipline to fill the missing loving of service.
What we can often miss in this story is that its very rare for anyone to make a snap decision to walk away from God, the prodigal sons heart had been infected way before his family watched his back disappearing over the horizon.
Those little discontent seeds were sown way before, then left to grow, take hold and infect the crop of Adishuuts heart.
Perhaps you are wondering why, if the Father really loved him why let him go, why give him the inheritance? Sometimes we choose the world to do the weeding, but always, always it is a more tender and gentler action when it is done by the Father.
A Father who knows his child also knows when allowing them to run to an empty tomb is the only way they will know in their heart that it IS truly empty, it’s not enough to be told.
I wonder if any of these seeds are taking root or germinating in your heart, innocuous looking little seeds that are easily ignored, but if left untended suck the soul dry of its purpose.
Mediocrity- are you giving five minutes to God in the morning but five hours to your phone, tv, console, online shopping habit, or even more to your job?
Are you avoiding worship, Mass, the sacraments community, scripture…has apathy and boredom snuck in somewhere, does it feel too much effort right now ?
Is Indifference to the needs of others surfacing more often than it has before? You cant help them all, right? lacking love, generosity, or compassion is something to be fought.
These are all small ignorable little seeds that start a crop of dissolution or resentment. It can also be the the place of the biggest encounter with the Father if we take those aches and desires to Him.
Maybe this really isnt you right now, perhaps you are on fire for the Lord right now, and none of this resonates.
Then for you I would like you to think who needs to be seen by the Trinity living in you, who needs affirmation, who needs to be embraced for that first step Towards home, who needs their isolation walked right into. Who is holding scraps whilst you have a seat at the banquet.
And thinking of the other son, Who needs that fire in you to catch hold of a dead orthodoxy. Militant observance with no love for the father. Who needs to feel the heat from your passion?
If you don’t know anyone then maybe it’s you …
Ask the Lord now in this time to show you where the darnel seeds have been planted, invite him into the garden of your soul for the weeding, and submit to what He wants done, some no doubt will be left to serve a purpose but those others will infect and destroy if left untended. Take it all into the merciful arms of Jesus in confession.
And if perhaps you are in that blessed place of returning to the deep, tight embrace of the father, a ring on your finger, belly full of fatted calf.. and knowing its worth then who needs to see that in you?
Who needs to hear that the Father is waiting, arms open for that first step towards home?