There are several books written on this theme. But the parable and the painting still speak more, hence the following reflection. This reflection has to be used together with the painting. The texts within brackets invite the reader to focus on details of particular parts of the painting. The following text is to be treated as an original writing of Sahaya G. Selvam, sdb. The copy of the painting is now in public domain, hence no copyright is required.
This is my story.
It is our story.
It is the story of how I negotiate with my self, my Father, and my brother.
It is the story of my life.
The story of my encounters with the self, God, and the other!
(The feet of the kneeling boy, the younger son, notice the torn shoes and dirty feet…)
Often I am tempted to stray away.
Away from my self, my father, and my brother.
Away from my home.
Away from the purpose of my own life journey.
(The clothes of the younger son, notice the patches…)
Everything that the Father has is ours.
Yet I want my share.
I want to hoard up, accumulate, gather.
Mine, mine, mine!
I have my little territory, but I can’t enjoy the spirit of the universe.
I throw away my true freedom, my peace, my home!
In wanting what is mine, I lose the privilege of being the son of the universe.
(Other paintings of Rembrandt on the Prodigal Son…)
My experiments and adventures with the false self
take me to places – away from my home.
I go looking for ‘freedom’ – of wanting to do what I want.
I enjoy myself, without being happy.
I am in the company of others, and know not what is love.
I achieve a lot without a purpose.
I am busy, but know not for what?
I am popular because of my many masks.
But I am not me.
At times, my waywardness only hurts me and others!
I am thrown to the rock-bottom.
Even that rock-bottom-ness,
the filth, the hunger, the loneliness can bring me to my true self.
The harshness of life forces me to surrender.
I admit, I am powerless.
I think of the possibilities that await me at home,
at my father’s bosom.
Now is never late.
My father loves me here and now.
This realisation brings me back to my own self.
Coming to my own self is a journey.
It is a single movement: to my self, to my father, to my brother.
I am home!
(The embracing father and son as a whole…)
I return to the embrace of the father.
I feel safe, loved, and at home.
I belong here.
This is home.
I am in his embrace. I listen to his heartbeat.
There is a new type of freedom in that security.
I can just be my self – the true self.
My father needs no account of the past.
I want to show how much I regret, but he cuts me short.
He does not warn me about the future.
I am here and now with the father.
That is what truly matters.
This is celebration – of life.
There is fun, gratification, happiness, meaning.
(Other four people in the painting…)
There are others too in my life.
For sure, they are all in different circles of relationship.
I want to love my brother, and be kind to all.
(The person standing on the right, the elder son…)
My own experience of the embrace of the father
sheds radiant light on my brother’s face.
(The person seated next to the elder son…)
It invites another to express repentance, and
the desire to be in the embrace too.
(The other two persons…)
Everyone is free to respond in their own way.
(The elder son…)
However, could the opposite be true too:
when I go away from the embrace of the father,
my brother becomes estranged too.
Sometimes, I am that brother: hesitant to respond,
suspicious of the prodigal love of the father,
standing aloof unable to understand the ways of the father.
(The face of the father, particularly the eyes…)
I wish I could be like my father:
so generous in freedom,
so magnanimous in acceptance (Romans 2:4),
so humble in going out to welcome.
(The hands on the shoulder,
notice that the right is of a woman and the left is of a man…)
He is strong and tender.
He is full of truth and grace (Jn 1:17b).
He welcomes me, he invites my brother, he wants everyone
– to be part of the celebration (Jn 10:10).
(Face of the younger son…)
Come to think of it, I am actually in His image (Gen 1:27).
So, is the purpose of life just realising that I am in his image?
I come to this realisation in his loving embrace.
(The whole painting…)
I realise my brother is in his image too.
After all, I am not alone in my journey back home.
I want to journey with my brother.
We all need healing and grooming.
This is home coming, then:
Realising deeply that I am in His image,
and responding compassionately to my brother who is in His image too.