I have always struggled with the story of the prodigal son; like many of the parables of the Christian New Testament it is a challenging story emotionally, relationally, and I think just logically. Like a good Zen koan a parable of Jesus can keep you wrestling for a long time. 

The story is found in the book of Luke and goes something like this: there was a man with two sons; the younger son said, “I don’t want to hang around the farm anymore, give me my inheritance so I can go make my way in the world.” The father did and off goes the younger son for some fast living. He runs out of money and finds himself in desperate times. Hungry, ashamed, suddenly self-reflective the son says to himself, ‘I remember my father treating the people who worked for him better than I am living; I don’t deserve anything but I can tell him I’m sorry.’ So off he goes. As he is walking up the road to the house his father spots him, shouts to the staff to bring the best clothes, prepare a feast, and he rushes out to embrace his son. His son barely gets the apology out before he is wrapped in fresh clothes and brought into the house to celebrate. 

This is not the end of the story, and we will get to that, but I want to pause because even here I struggle. It can be hard to read about what feels like easy forgiveness when someone has been so thoughtless, so irresponsible. I often read this and wonder about punishment. 

Anyway the story continues and here comes the older brother wanting to know what’s the to-do. Well is he ever mad when he hears that the party if for his dissolute little brother. So dad comes out of the house and says come in, celebrate, this is great news: your brother is back home, we are blessed. The older son has some sharp words for his father and is clearly hurt. But his father, lovingly, gently reassures him: yes it feels like I am taking you for granted, but I promise I see you, I love you, I’m here with you. And that’s the end. 

I always feel for the older brother in the sense of unfairness. But in recent years, rereading this story, hearing it taught by many teachers, I find that I’m not sure there is a side to be on. It’s a story about God, and God’s grace sure. It’s also a story about humans and how we love and how we forgive and the hurt we hold onto. 

Recently I found myself thinking about the story in a whole new way because of a cat. Maybe that’s heretical to say but God does work in mysterious ways and I suppose it’s not so bad if I can learn something about grace by loving a cat. 

The cat, and there are two cats to this story, but the prodigal cat is Pepper. The younger cat. She leaves for days at a time and then comes back in the middle of the night screaming (loudly) for food (which is always available). And we delight every time she comes home; because every time she goes our hearts hurt not knowing if she will come back. Then there is Clementine who doesn’t leave, she comes to her name, she is almost always to be found in the garden. She is easy. 

This last time Pepper was not seen for weeks. There was an idea of her because the food would disappear at night but no eye looked on her for over a month. So when we sat in the family room and she came to the door screaming for food and love and attention we jumped, we scooped and embraced and put out bowls and bowls of food. And then I saw Clem and I rubbed her belly and patted her head and said, “isn’t it wonderful that Pepper is home.” I realized something then  about love that I hadn’t understood before. And maybe I still don’t really understand but I could feel it, something expansive. 

Clem did not seem overjoyed by Pepper’s return. She didn’t seem to feel the need to come to the party. I suppose she could have said, ‘why would you do anything for this little brat that regularly breaks your heart.’ It’s a fair question. But it’s not the answer.

Loving feels better than holding onto pain, even when you know it may not last. And love isn’t quantifiable, you can’t use it up. And also it rarely looks the same when it is sent. I have always identified with the older brother, I have always hurt for him because he feels so overlooked. But I know that he’s not, and I understand what his father is trying to tell him, kind of; it’s something about love being different than approval, forgiveness making room for joy, acceptance allowing us to change. 

There has been no Pepper for two nights again, and when she comes back we will be overjoyed. And I’ll come back to this story again and again, because that’s how it works for all of us.