We have heard time and again, the story of the Prodigal Son. As you become a parent, and especially as you age, it is my opinion that the story becomes easier to understand. 

 

I know for sure that when I was younger, I was always troubled and even annoyed at this particular Gospel story. As a first-born child, I could always relate to the older brother in the story. In most families all eyes are on the first kid. But what the first kid doesn’t realize is that when we “numero unos” are born into the world, all eyes are also on our parents. Parents are scrutinized for their discipline styles or lack-thereof and, as first-time parents, they are heaped with advice and expectation in regard to their new offspring.  The expectations for first-borns can be great sometimes. How we act or react in situations, especially with other adults, somehow reflected on how well our parents were rearing us and teaching us. If we were well-behaved, our parents remain smiling and pleasant and so that helped fuel our desire to keep them that way.

 

Then when our siblings came along, we first-borns also tried to steer our new relatives into acting in such a way that would preserve the little utopia that we had perpetuated for both ourselves and our parents. And of course we all know how subsequent children can upset our little parent-pleasing apple-cart and turn households into unsettling, competitive camps of chaos.

 

This is just like parish life. There are those that contribute all their time, talents and treasures over and over and over. They follow God the Father’s guidance to be the best reflection of God’s love in their volunteering and the practice of their faith. It took a long time to figure out that story in Luke 15 is actually meant to give all those who try to live the faith a great deal to be grateful and happy about. The story of the prodigal son is an example to us that there is hope especially in these days.

 

When I say “these days,” I am referring to the lack of Catholics in the pews. Where have they gone and why have they gone away from our Sunday celebrations of Mass? Why are there so few families joining us around the banquet table of our Lord? Why is there no one volunteering to assist in the activities of our parishes? Why are there no people attending our prayer nights, fundraisers, donut days, dinners or parish missions?  Are they all the second sons in the story of the prodigal son? Have they all taken the riches of the generations and left their spiritual home? 

 

Is the reason for their absence the priest sexual abuse scandals still? Is it because of COVID? Is it because of some previous slight by a fellow parishioner or priest? Is it because the parish doesn’t serve the right coffee? What is it that has kept Catholics away or pushed them out the door of their Father’s house? There are plenty of folks smarter than me, trying to figure out where all the Catholics are and why they aren’t in church. 

 

And the absence of our brothers and sisters cause frustration when having to rely on a shrinking pool of parish participants. And there are days when our faithful parishioners feel very much like the older son in the Gospel who wants to know why there’s not a big “to-do” about their faithful efforts. Instead, all the energy seems to be spent on getting more people, having more outreach, finding out what will encourage the disenfranchised Catholic to return. 

 

But we all must focus on the joy of watching a new individual or new family come through the parish doors. I think about how exciting it is when a new person volunteers or attends a meeting or has a new idea and says, “Let’s try it.”  That’s when I understand the faith the best: when we fling open the doors of our hearts, forgive whatever is past and forge forward with hope and God’s promise. 

 

Let’s keep praying that our parishes will have many days of celebrating  and rejoicing like the father in Luke’s Gospel. May we continue to welcome back all that are lost.