God's Big Wasteful Love

This Sunday we hear the story of the Prodigal Son, sometimes called the Lost Son, and sometimes called the Prodigal Father. Reflections about this reading often ask us to identify with one of the sons, but as I read it now, I don’t think I relate to either one. The younger son is wasteful, and, honestly, kind of a brat. He uses his father for his money, he uses other people too, and he never takes responsibility for himself. His apology is insincere and necessitated only by his hunger. The older son is kind of a whiner. He does everything he does out of a sense of duty, so, although he’s obedient, he’s not acting out of love. Maybe in his own way he’s using his father too; eventually he expects his father to give him the inheritance he feels is owed to him. He’s not unlike the Pharisees and Scribes who are on the receiving end of this story. Yikes. I hope I’m not like either of these guys. And I hope you’re not either.

These sons are both pretty hard to like, and yet, their father loves them. Their father is willing to give everything to them. He wants a relationship with them, but they’re both spoiled and incapable of reciprocating his love. You parents out there might think that if the father was stricter or had better boundaries or made his sons take responsibility, they might be better people. I’m not a parent, and I think that! It seems like Jesus is working pretty hard to show that both of these boys are undeserving of anything their father might give them. And yet, their father loves them anyway.

Maybe this story is meant to reflect back to us our own selfishness or unwillingness to accept God’s love. Or, maybe not.

Is it possible that this story isn’t really about the undeserving sons at all? I mean, what if we don’t pay any attention to those boys because it’s not about them? What if they’re just a literary device meant to show us that God doesn’t care if we deserve love or not, because God keeps loving us regardless? If we focus on the father, we see the extent to which God loves, that God is willing to give everything over all the time because of deep, deep love for us. Maybe this story is meant to shock us into recognizing God’s love.

The thing is, God’s love is not about worthiness. Sometimes we turn and recognize God’s love and enter into a relationship with God. And that’s wonderful. Sometimes we take time for prayer, and we notice with gratitude all the ways God is caring for us. Sometimes we don’t. But either way, God loves us. God’s love is not dependent on our response. Receiving God’s love makes life better for us, but it doesn’t determine God’s love. God’s love for us is not a cause-and-effect relationship — if we’re good, God loves us, and if we’re bad, God doesn’t. God only wants relationship, no matter what we do.

So often I think in terms of cause-and-effect. I might worry about worthiness or doing the right thing. Those of us who are people pleasers can get into the hustle for approval sometimes, so it might be easy to think that God is somehow in that hustle too. But if we take this story to heart, we see that God is not in that hustle for approval. God’s love is much deeper than that.

How easy or hard is it for you to think of God’s love as something unearned or unsought but pouring over you no matter what you do? Would believing that change your life in any way?

For me, knowing God’s profound love in my head is one thing, but experiencing it more fully, truly integrating it into my life, is harder. And maybe that’s pretty much what the spiritual life is about – not being good or doing spiritual things but about recognizing God’s giant love that’s just poured over us, sometimes even wasted on us because we can receive it all. Sometimes I don’t know what to do in the face of extravagance. I’m used to having just enough of what I need, and sometimes I admit there are things I want. But there’s no room for want in my relationship with God. There’s only abundance, excess, more than I could ever want or imagine.

Do you know the poem “To Live in the Mercy of God” by Denise Levertov? It’s one that I love, and it seems so fitting here. The speaker of the poem envisions God’s mercy as a waterfall, “flinging itself/unabating down and down/to clenched fists of rock.” That’s such an apt image to describe God’s wasteful love and mercy poured down upon people who can’t fully take it in, who get ourselves caught up in our worthiness, which is just a distraction, something that pulls us away from simply opening to love.

What if, instead of getting distracted by our worthiness or lack thereof, we were to simply be in God’s presence and receive God’s abundant love and mercy? Maybe we could make it part of our Lenten practice to think about how God, with great pleasure, wastes that big, crazy love on us. What if we were to make a practice of basking in that love, even just a little bit?

For Reflection:

Why not do that right now? Instead of pondering on reflection questions, maybe we could take a little time to be with God and open ourselves to God’s immense outpouring of love. After all, it’s there whether we open to it or not, so why not try to receive it?

by Sister Leslie Keener, CDP

Sister Leslie Keener, CDP is the director of God Space, a community-building spirituality ministry in Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky. She’s a Sister of Divine Providence with a Masters in Ministry and a Certificate in Spiritual Direction and Retreats from Creighton University. She directs retreats, meets with people for spiritual direction, and serves as the vocation director for her community. She enjoys music, Girl Scout Cookies, and dancing.