The Prodigal Perspective, Part #1
It must have been hard on my sister growing up. She is two years younger than me. And there was a bit of a disadvantage for her while we grew up.
First, I’m a geek and loved school and still do. There is something about learning new things that has always intrigued me. This also means that I usually admire and look up to teachers as having more learning than I do. I’ve mentioned before that in the area I grew up in, my age cohort didn’t have enough kids for two full grade school classrooms but more than enough for one classroom. The solution was a split grade of two grade level kids with one teacher. In order to make it work, the kids in the split grade had to be more independent and internally focused learner types. I fell into this category.
What I didn’t know is how this might affect my younger sister. Her cohort didn’t need a split grade or, if it did, she wasn’t selected for it. Regardless, since the elementary school was small, she had several teachers that I previously had. They would occasionally make comments to her, or our parents, such as “why can’t you be more like your brother,” in regards to her speed to grasp academic learning. Even though I had nothing to do with this, it wore on her.
Second, the gender part. I’m a (very young) baby boomer and of all the changes (good and bad) that I’ve seen over my life, the change in gender expectations has to be one of the largest. For example, I never had a curfew after I started driving. It was expected that I’d let my parents know where I was going and what time I was expected home but that was it. My sister, on the other hand, had a strict curfew and much more of an interrogation of where and with whom she was going with. asked my mother about that once and her reply was very squishy until she got to the part about the potential of getting pregnant. To be fair to my sister and myself, both of us were pretty “goody-two-shoes” and, at least through high school, rarely got in trouble. We were both also very trustworthy. To be fair to my deceased parents, I would say that any difference in how they treated us was almost entirely perceived outside of the framing language used.
I was comparing my sister and my relationship with our parents with the parable of the Prodigal Son.
“And he said, “There was a man who had two sons. And the younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of property that is coming to me.’ And he divided his property between them. Not many days later, the younger son gathered all he had and took a journey into a far country, and there he squandered his property in reckless living. And when he had spent everything, a severe famine arose in that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed pigs. And he was longing to be fed with the pods that the pigs ate, and no one gave him anything. “But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”’ And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to celebrate. “Now his older son was in the field, and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the servants and asked what these things meant. And he said to him, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fattened calf, because he has received him back safe and sound.’ But he was angry and refused to go in. His father came out and entreated him, but he answered his father, ‘Look, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him!’ And he said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found.’” - Luke 15:11-32 ESV
I’ve read this and heard sermons on it many times. But I have always thought about it from the perspective of the Prodigal Son or his father and never from the perspective of the remaining son. You see, after I graduated from high school, I left for college and while I didn’t ask for nor did I receive an inheritance from my parents, from my sister’s perspective, it must have seemed that I left home to have great and exciting adventures while she was stuck at home. Even after she graduated from high school, she gravitated to a trade based technical occupational learning that allowed her to stay at home (and under my parents rules) while I had the freedom and responsibility of independence while I finished my college studies.
In the parable, the son that remained was angry that his brother was getting all the attention after leaving home while he stayed as a faithful child. I can see that, to some level, in my sister after I left for college. We were both blessed to have parents that loved us in our own unique needs. But somehow, they still managed to treat us fairly but in perhaps slightly different ways.
That is what God does for us.
