I've been reflecting on the story that we call the Parable of the Prodigal Son recently, though the parable is really more about his brother, and especially about his father.
We all know the basics of the story: a younger son asks for his inheritance while his dad is still alive (before it's due to him). His dad gives it to him, and then he takes it out of town and squander it. Eventually when times are tough, he formulate a repentance, and returns home with his tail between his legs to tell his dad how he doesn't deserve anything but asks for a job just to be able to eat regularly.
So he heads home to act out his obeisance, and learns that his dad has never stopped watching for him, never stopped looking forward to his return. Before he can explain his situation and ask for a job, Dad interrupts him, stirs up all the servants, and essentially restores the young man to his former position and status
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The scene shifts to the older brother working out in the field like an obedient kid. As he's coming in at the end of his workday, he hears the hubub at the house and asks a servant what's going on; the servant explains the celebration for the returning brother, at which point the older kid takes a good bit of offense at the father's goodness and embellished his brother's failings (the story never mentioned prostitutes, for example).
So Dad comes out to listen to his whining and help him understand how important it is to celebrate his returning brother.
The part that really stood out to me (this time) was that Father addresses both boys exactly the same: as "Son."
He interrupts the submission of the prodigal, calling him "Son." Then he sits through his religious brother's complaining before addressing him also as "Son," and explaining why we celebrate.
I get it why the "good kid" older brother is addressed as "Son." He's the good boy, the obedient one, and I've grown up in a culture that encourages that. And since the younger brother has spent his inheritance, the older brother will inherit the entire farm. Of course he's "Son."
But as much as I know better, I still find myself stumbling over the younger kid. If he'd gotten his repentance out, if he'd worked it out for a few years, then I'd understand the "Son," but Dad calls him by that name before he's even gotten the repentance out.
The two boys had been walking two entirely different tracks, but both of them were based on lies. One lie was that getting away from the family would be where he'd find freedom. The other lie was that steady obedience should lead to reward (the desired goat) and preferential treatment.
Apparently God doesn't actually care about our history nearly as much as we do. He is determined to love us, determined to lead us in truth, regardless of how rebellious or how religious we have been.
Apparently careful repentance doesn't impress our Father as much as we thought. Apparently consistent obedience doesn't impress Father as much as we expected either.
He corrects our thinking and treats us as "Son" regardless.
Dang, he's good.
