Hello friends,
This is Mark Gladman,
Also known as Brother Frederick James,
Your friendly neighbourhood monk in dogs.
Welcome to our new series,
The Way Home.
This is a series of reflections on the great stories of return that run like a river through scriptures.
Again and again,
We meet people who wander,
Who lose their way,
Who become disconnected from themselves,
From others and gods.
Beneath every story is this beautiful movement of grace,
A God who searches,
Who waits,
Who welcomes and who leads us home.
So today we begin with probably the most famous homecoming story in all of the scripture,
The parable of the prodigal son.
So as you settle into this time of prayer,
Just find a comfortable position.
Allow yourself to be fully present,
Body,
Spirit,
Soul,
Mind.
Take a slow breath in.
And a gentle breath out.
Nowhere else,
Nothing else that you need to be or do right now for the next few minutes.
Just be here.
And as we start,
Let us pray.
God,
You are the one who watches the horizon for your children.
You are the one who never stops searching,
Never stops waiting,
Never stops loving.
As we listen to this ancient story,
Help us recognize our own story within it.
Show us where we've wandered.
Show us where we long to return and remind us that home has never stopped waiting for us.
Let's begin with the text from the Gospel of Luke chapter 15.
There was a man who had two sons.
The younger of them said to his father,
Father,
Give me the share of the property that belongs to me.
So he divided his property between them.
A few days later,
The younger son gathered all he had and travelled to a distant country,
And there he squandered his property in dissolute living.
But while he was still far off,
His father saw him,
Was filled with compassion.
He ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.
And as you sit with these words,
It is a truncated version of the text.
But here again.
Just the beginning words of those last sentences in that last verse,
While he was still far off,
His father saw him.
Now probably the most surprising thing about this story is that it begins with leaving.
The young son leaves his father's house,
His family,
Everything familiar and safe.
And heads for what scripture calls a distant country.
But distant countries aren't always geographical places.
Sometimes We leave home in different ways.
We leave home emotionally,
Spiritually.
Sometimes we leave through disappointment.
Through seeking ambition.
Through grief and through success,
There's seasons.
When we become strangers to ourselves,
We become busy and distracted.
Sometimes it's just exhaustion.
We keep moving,
We keep accumulating,
But somewhere deep within there's this quiet ache of feeling that we've lost touch with the person that we were created to be.
So maybe take a moment to ask yourself,
What distant country.
.
.
Have I been living in?
Maybe it's the country of achievement.
Maybe resentment.
Maybe endless distractions.
Maybe it's the country of needing to be self-sufficient.
Don't pass judgment on whatever arises as you consider this.
Just notice what it is.
The younger son believes freedom means independence.
He believes that life's going to begin once he escapes the limitations he has around him at home.
And I think a lot of us sometimes have believed the same thing.
We imagine that fulfillment lies somewhere else,
That peace will arrive when we achieve enough,
Own enough,
Accomplish enough,
Become enough.
And we can't do that in the confines of the space we are.
But this story suggests something very different.
The sun's deepest problem.
Isn't that he's broken the rules,
It's that he's forgotten who he is.
He's forgotten that in that space he has already been loved.
And the turning point.
In the story comes with one small phrase.
He came to himself.
Now that's really interesting.
He didn't come to God?
Or come to religion or spirituality.
Not even he came home,
Not yet anyway.
He came to himself.
And I want you to think about.
.
.
That phrase and maybe how beautiful it is because it suggests that even from within the Christian tradition the spiritual journey isn't about becoming someone else.
It's about returning to the truest self that's been buried beneath fear and expectation and exhaustion and noise and disappointment and grief and all those other things.
The sun remembers.
He remembers the warmth of home.
He remembers the goodness of his father and his family.
He remembers who he really is.
So spend a few moments just sitting with this question.
Who was I?
Before life became so complicated,
Before disappointment hardened,
Or anxiety consumed,
Or before the goal of success became our identity,
Or failure defined us.
Who am I?
Beneath all of those layers,
Who was I before life became so complicated?
Now imagine yourself walking along the road in the story.
The sun's low in the sky,
The dust rises gently from your feet as you take each step.
You're tired,
You're carrying regrets,
You're rehearsing the words that you want to say.
Maybe you feel ashamed or uncertain or afraid.
But then in the distance you see someone running,
Not walking,
Running.
It's the father.
Who?
Has been watching,
Waiting.
Looking.
And he doesn't wait for any explanations or apologies,
Doesn't want to know where you've been.
Doesn't chastise,
Just embraces you.
Imagine that embrace.
What does it feel like?
What emotions rise within you?
What words do you long to hear?
Just stay with that image for a moment.
It's interesting that Jesus could have told this story really different.
He could have described a father sitting on a throne or in a boardroom.
Or in his office or something,
Calling the son in and demanding an explanation.
But rather Jesus tells the story of a father who's out watching and waiting and when he sees,
Runs.
This is important because in the ancient world,
Dignified men did not run.
To run was to lose composure and appear foolish.
And yet Jesus says that love runs,
Grace runs,
Mercy runs.
Maybe Jesus wants us to know that love doesn't mind losing its composure and that love doesn't mind appearing foolish.
Anyway,
Before the son can prove himself worthy.
The father closes the distance.
And maybe this is one of the deep truths of the good news that Jesus had to share about God,
That God is always moving towards us before we ever begin moving towards God.
Even now.
Even in doubt and uncertainty and wondering,
God is moving.
Towards you.
So the question is never,
Does God want you back?
The question is whether you're willing to believe that you're already loved and that God might be running towards you.
Regardless.
There's another character in this story,
The older brother.
That he never physically leaves home but I'd suggest that he was probably just as distant.
He's resentful and angry.
He believes love has to be earned.
He believes acceptance is a reward for good behaviour.
And I think that there's an older brother.
In all of us.
The voice that whispers,
You're not enough.
You haven't done enough.
You should be better.
That you need to prove yourself.
But it's interesting in this story,
The father says to his son,
You're always with me and everything I have is already yours.
Maybe those words are meant for us as well.
We don't have to earn our belonging.
We don't have to perform for love like so many of us have been raised to think we do.
You don't have to prove your worth.
You belong.
And you already are loved and you always have belonged and been loved.
As we prepare to close,
Just bring your attention back to your breathing.
Slowly breathe in.
And out.
Imagine standing before the door of home.
And when I say home,
Don't think about a physical place,
But the place within yourself where God has always been waiting.
And listen carefully,
What invitation is God speaking to you?
Today.
Maybe it's come home.
Maybe it's rest.
Maybe it's let yourself be loved.
Maybe it's stop striving.
Maybe it's begin again.
Whatever words rise up,
Receive them and carry them with you into your day.
Let's pray,
God.
When we wonder.
Call us home.
When we forget who we are,
Remind us when.
We're carrying shame that weighs heavily upon us.
Embrace us.
Teach us to trust that your love is greater than our failures and deeper than our fears.
And as we continue on this journey,
May we discover that home is the place where your love has always been waiting for us.
And may grace,
Peace and love envelop us and hold us in that home and in that belonging today and always.
Thanks for joining me today.
Until next time,
May you remember that no matter how far you've wandered,
There's always a road that leads home and that love is already waiting there.
Till tomorrow,
Bye for now.
