It occurs to me…

Reading the Prodigal Son parable again this morning I was struck by the phrase – “and there wasted his substance on riotous living.”  Luke 15:13.

What a turn of a phrase.  It is somehow, both devoid and full of of detail.  My on-line dictionary defines “riotous” as “wild and uncontrolled behavior,” but that definition is meaningless as “uncontrolled” means just that.  One can be “uncontrolled” in any direction.  I suppose if you asked a room of a hundred people what “riotous living” meant to them you would get a wide range of answers.  Only the older son gives us some hint here, when later (v. 30) he complains to the father that the younger son has “devoured thy living with harlots.”  Of course, we don’t know if the older son knows that as fact, or is just spinning an argument.  All we really know is that the younger son “spent it all” (v. 14).

But then it occurs to me that the uncertainty of the meaning of the phrase “wasted his substance on riotous living” was purposefully chosen by Jesus and/or those who told the story in the oral tradition and then ultimately put it onto paper.  I mean, isn’t that the point brought home by the father, who, as best as we can tell is indifferent to just what the younger son did while he was away.  Indeed, the father cares (so much so as to say it twice, in v. 24 and 32) about only one thing, — that the younger son “came to himself” (v. 17) and returned home —  “my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.”

“I respect faith, but doubt is what gets you an education.”  Wilson Mizner

I ran across this quote recently and tucked it away.  It reminded me of another that has, apparently with some uncertainty attached, been linked to Albert Einstein:

“It’s not that I’m smart.  I am merely inquisitive.”

These quotes both remind me that as frustrating as not knowing is, as challenging as new situations and circumstances may be, as difficult as the waters of new relationships are to successfully navigate, they provide fertile ground from which good things (though maybe not the “good things” I had in mind) may grow.  Granted, this requires some effort and/or patience on my part, but it occurs to me that it has, and always will be that way.

A friend recently sent me some information on the seven virtues.  (I think he meant it kindly.)  They are, I assume in no particular order:

Chastity     Temperance     Charity       Diligence     Patience     Kindness      Humility

There is a converse sin associated with each:

Lust     Gluttony     Greed     Sloth     Wrath     Envy     Pride

I note at the outset that the sins are much shorter and contain less syllables than the virtues – just an observation.  But what really caught me at the outset was how the Catechism of the Catholic Church defines “virtue” as: “an habitual and firm disposition to do the good.”  One need not bat 1,000 on the list of seven, one only need have a “firm disposition” to do so.  Whew!

Because I have been hearing it a lot lately, I have been trying to wrap my mind around the popular phrase – “It is what it is.”  It is, clearly, a tautology, like “boys will be boys” or “a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” so one can’t argue with the logic any more than one can argue with “A = A.”  That seemingly suggest that, at least in a strict sense, the phrase has no meaning.  However, as I hear it most often it seems to be said in a somewhat fatalistic tone and context – as in “it is what it is, there is nothing I/we can do about it,” or perhaps, more in the vernacular, “we are/I am screwed.”  Yet, that point is or could be a point of intense opportunity.  I am not Pollyanna.  There are, indeed, those times where the die is cast.  But, they are few and far between, and even in those instances, assuming the “it” is not fatal, there is the post-“it”  (apologies to 3M) time to deal with.  In this I am reminded of the tag line from one of my new favorite songs by Kacey Musgraves – “it is what it is, ‘til it ain’t any more.”

It occurs to me that the “’til it ain’t any more” is almost always a proper addition to the “it is what it is.”

“Five great enemies to peace inhabit us: avarice, ambition, envy, anger, and pride.  If those enemies were to be banished, we should infallibly enjoy perpetual peace.”  Ralph Waldo Emerson

Emerson makes life sound like a Whac-A-Mole game in which we are forever standing there with the mallet attempting (or not, as the case may be) to suppress each of these five things as it pops up from below the surface.  It occurs to me that instead, perhaps my efforts should be focused on getting a sheet of plywood, a hammer, and a few nails to just cover the holes.  Okay, mallet or plywood, hammer, and nails?

Photo taken of a wall in Galveston built in the late 1800s.

Reading the Prodigal Son parable (Luke 15:11-32) for the zillionth time, this jumped out at me:

“And he answering said to his father, ‘Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment: and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends: But as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf.’   And he said unto him, “Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine.  It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.’”

First, I am reminded that, religion aside, this is just great literature worth reading.  Second, I was struck by the patience of the father.  I am afraid that in place of “son, though art ever with me, and all that I have is thine” my response would have been (depending on how my day had gone to that point) something more along the lines “shut up and get in there you ungrateful shit.”  I might have added to that: “Someday, you may understand” – but only on my better days.

I like the father’s response in the story much better.

I have long been enamored with the story of he unfairly labeled “Doubting Thomas” in popular culture.  John 20:24-29  You are out of the house for some reason and return to find your other friends reporting that a dead friend who died a horrible death of the cross a few days ago has just appeared to them in flesh and blood – and you have the audacity to doubt them.  Give me a break!  I received more ammunition in Thomas’ defense yesterday when our homilist noted that not even Jesus is upset with Thomas for his doubt.  No, Thomas famously notes to his friends that he will believe their story he gets to see/feel Jesus’ nail marks and side wound.  This “I’ll believe it when I see it” statement seems infinitely believable to me given the unique circumstances.  On his return, Jesus simply invites Thomas to do so.  There is no rebuke, only an invitation to Thomas to do what he needs to do to believe.  Some 2,000 years later we all get that same invitation, not to see/feel the nail marks, but to do what we need to do to believe.  Heck, if you want to throw the label “Doubting” around, stick it on me, on all of us.

Hello, my name is Doubting ___.

Photo taken in the downtown/Strand area of Galveston – a mural painted on a shuttered building.  Someone else created the art, I added the words.

“Order your soul; reduce your wants; live in charity; associate in Christian community; obey the laws; trust in Providence.”  St. Augustine

Providence is defined in my on-line dictionary  as “the foreseeing care and guidance of God or nature over the creatures of the earth.”  There are, I suppose, many reasons that would cause one to not trust in Providence – God knows I dwell on those often enough.  But today I celebrate a reason to trust “the foreseeing care and guidance of God” – my 25^th anniversary of being married to my beautiful wife.  I suppose I could attempt to put all of that in written word, but I know it would be insufficient.  It is, it occurs to me, sufficient for to acknowledge, particularly on this day, that God is good, and that trusting in Providence is a good thing.