Prodigal Parents
Stories
Object:
Contents
"Prodigal Parents" by John Sumwalt
"Going Home" by Peter Andrew Smith
* * * * * * * *
Prodigal Parents
John Sumwalt
2 Corinthians 5:16-21
All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation...
-- 2 Corinthians 5:18
My friend Loretta called one day to see if I could meet her for lunch at the usual place. Loretta and I are both pastors, though of different denominations. We have been friends since seminary and have always relied on each other's wisdom.
Not long after we had taken the first bites of our chicken salad, Loretta said, "Cecile, I need to tell you something." Noting the ominous tone in her voice, I gave her my full attention.
Loretta said, "A young woman came into my office last week. She was upset about a sermon I preached recently on the parable of the prodigal son. It seems she is the oldest of two sisters. The younger sister lives nine hours away. The older sister is married, has two small children, and sings in our church choir. The younger sister is also married and has one child who is several years older than her two cousins. They all get together a couple of times a year for the holidays."
Loretta paused for a moment to order more coffee before going on. "It seems the younger sister ran away from home when she was seventeen, and they didn't hear from her for two years. The parents spent all of their savings searching for her. They had almost given her up for dead when she appeared on the porch carrying her infant daughter. The older sister said, 'My parents not only welcomed her home with open arms; they gave her a big baby shower attended by a host of relatives and friends. A year later they borrowed against their home to pay for a lavish wedding.'
"The older sister said she didn't begrudge her sister these things because she shared her parent's joy, not only that her sister was alive, but that she had a wonderful child and a loving husband. The problem is that her parents speak glowingly about her sister's family and have only negative things to say about her family. They go on and on telling about the younger sister's accomplishments, the son-in-law's important job, their big beautiful home, and the oldest granddaughter's amazing cleverness. What's more, she said, her parents are always comparing her unfavorably to her younger sibling, saying things like, 'Why can't you keep your house as nice as hers?' They are constantly critical of her husband and their children in ways that are deeply hurtful to them.
"This has gone on for years and is becoming more and more difficult to bear. She has tried to tell her parents how she feels and they deny vehemently that what they are doing is hurtful. I prayed with her and when we were finished she asked if I would be willing to meet with her and her parents. I agreed and the arrangements were made.
"We met yesterday in the church lounge next to my office. I offered a prayer for guidance. Then the oldest daughter reached across the coffee table and took hold of her parents' hands. With tears in her eyes she said, 'Mom, Dad, I love you with all of my heart. You know my feelings about the hurtful things you say to me and to Jim and the children. I must tell you that we cannot go on like this. Please, for the sake of the children, will you consider carefully what you say when you are with our family? We all love you and we need you to be a part of our lives.' "
Loretta paused and then she said, "Cecile, the parents didn't say a word. They got up and left the room and did not look back. Last night I got a call. They want to meet with me tomorrow."
Loretta took a deep breath and drank the last of her coffee. I didn't know what to say. When we got to the parking lot I hugged her and told her I would be praying for her.
John Sumwalt is the pastor of Our Lord's United Methodist Church in New Berlin, Wisconsin, and a noted storyteller in the Milwaukee area. He is the author of nine books, including the acclaimed Vision Stories series and How to Preach the Miracles: Why People Don't Believe Them and What You Can Do About It. John and his wife Jo Perry-Sumwalt served for three years as the co-editors of StoryShare. A graduate of the University of Wisconsin-Madison and the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary (UDTS), Sumwalt received the Herbert Manning Jr. award for parish ministry from UDTS in 1997.
Going Home
by Peter Andrew Smith
Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
Jane climbed the steps and opened the outer door of the building. She ran her eyes down the directory of residents until she found the name that matched her own. Her finger moved toward the buzzer but never reached it.
This was a mistake. She should never have come here. She had said things that she could never take back. The image of her mother's face before she slammed the door filled Jane's vision. There was no going home for her.
"Are you going in, dear?" asked a friendly voice from behind her.
"I don't think so." Jane wiped a stray tear with her hand and lowered her head to move past the old woman coming in the doorway. "I have the wrong building."
"No, you don't Jane Skinner."
Jane looked up to see a wrinkled face framed by snow white hair. The face was older than she remembered but she could never forget the smile of the woman who had taught her Sunday school so many years ago.
"Mrs. Jenkins, is that you?"
"Yes, it is me. I wasn't sure if would remember an old woman like me."
Jane stepped forward and gave her a quick hug. "You were the best Sunday school teacher a girl could have."
"You always were sweet." The smile got wider. "But look at you, you're a grown woman. You have to call me Alice.
Jane smiled in return. "I'm not sure I can."
"Nonsense. You can do anything you put your mind to. You always could." Alice touched her arm gently. "How are you, dear?"
"I'm doing pretty good," Jane said forcing her smile to continue.
"Really?" Alice said. "In my mind standing in front of a buzzer and crying is not usually the sign you are doing good."
"It's complicated. It was nice to see you." Jane started toward the door. Alice stepped to one side but reached out a hand as Jane passed.
"Jane, I don't know what happened. Your mother never told me and frankly it's probably none of my business, but I think you need to know something before you leave." Alice's voice cracked slightly. "She is waiting for you."
Jane shook her head. "You're mistaken. She didn't know I was coming. I didn't know myself until I got on the bus."
"You don't understand, Jane. She waits for you every day. She asks if I have seen you or heard from you every time we talk. Sometimes she goes out looking for you." Alice took a deep breath. "She wants you to come home."
"I can't." Tears streamed down Jane's cheeks. "All I can see is her face when I told her I wished she were dead instead of Daddy. There is no way I can take those words back."
"We are not able to change the past," Alice said. "But what you said isn't the most important thing."
Jane closed her eyes. "How can I possibly face her?"
"By remembering that she loves you dearly," Alice said. "By knowing that she wants you to come home and by believing that forgiveness opens our hearts for God to work a new start in a relationship."
Jane started to sob and fell into Alice's arms. After her crying subsided a bit Alice leaned in close to Jane's ear. "Go home, dear. Go and have a cry with your mother."
Jane pulled away from the older woman. "I should get cleaned up first."
"No, you don't." Alice reached in her purse and pulled out a key for the security door. "You didn't come all this way to hide in my bathroom so you can pretend your heart isn't broken when you go and see your mother. Go and show her your tears, tell her you are sorry, and let that poor women love you."
"But I look awful," Jane protested.
"Trust me. You will be the most beautiful sight your mother has ever seen." Alice unlocked the door and pointed toward the stairs. "Go and see her."
Jane went inside and started climbing to the second floor apartment where her mother lived. She stopped after a few steps and turned around.
"Is church still at 10:30?" Jane asked.
"It certainly is." Alice tilted her head to one side. "Would you like a drive?"
Jane nodded. "Then I'll see you and your mother in the morning."
"I don't know if she will be up for church."
"Dear child, your mother's prayers have been answered." Alice laughed. "Not even the gates of hell could keep her from going to thank the Lord for that. Now get moving before we start bawling again."
Jane turned back to the stairs and made her way home.
Peter Andrew Smith is an ordained minister in the United Church of Canada who currently serves at St. James United Church in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. He is the author of All Things Are Ready (CSS), a book of lectionary-based communion prayers, as well as many stories and articles, which can be found listed at www.peterandrewsmith.com.
*****************************************
StoryShare, March 10, 2013, issue.
Copyright 2013 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"Prodigal Parents" by John Sumwalt
"Going Home" by Peter Andrew Smith
* * * * * * * *
Prodigal Parents
John Sumwalt
2 Corinthians 5:16-21
All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation...
-- 2 Corinthians 5:18
My friend Loretta called one day to see if I could meet her for lunch at the usual place. Loretta and I are both pastors, though of different denominations. We have been friends since seminary and have always relied on each other's wisdom.
Not long after we had taken the first bites of our chicken salad, Loretta said, "Cecile, I need to tell you something." Noting the ominous tone in her voice, I gave her my full attention.
Loretta said, "A young woman came into my office last week. She was upset about a sermon I preached recently on the parable of the prodigal son. It seems she is the oldest of two sisters. The younger sister lives nine hours away. The older sister is married, has two small children, and sings in our church choir. The younger sister is also married and has one child who is several years older than her two cousins. They all get together a couple of times a year for the holidays."
Loretta paused for a moment to order more coffee before going on. "It seems the younger sister ran away from home when she was seventeen, and they didn't hear from her for two years. The parents spent all of their savings searching for her. They had almost given her up for dead when she appeared on the porch carrying her infant daughter. The older sister said, 'My parents not only welcomed her home with open arms; they gave her a big baby shower attended by a host of relatives and friends. A year later they borrowed against their home to pay for a lavish wedding.'
"The older sister said she didn't begrudge her sister these things because she shared her parent's joy, not only that her sister was alive, but that she had a wonderful child and a loving husband. The problem is that her parents speak glowingly about her sister's family and have only negative things to say about her family. They go on and on telling about the younger sister's accomplishments, the son-in-law's important job, their big beautiful home, and the oldest granddaughter's amazing cleverness. What's more, she said, her parents are always comparing her unfavorably to her younger sibling, saying things like, 'Why can't you keep your house as nice as hers?' They are constantly critical of her husband and their children in ways that are deeply hurtful to them.
"This has gone on for years and is becoming more and more difficult to bear. She has tried to tell her parents how she feels and they deny vehemently that what they are doing is hurtful. I prayed with her and when we were finished she asked if I would be willing to meet with her and her parents. I agreed and the arrangements were made.
"We met yesterday in the church lounge next to my office. I offered a prayer for guidance. Then the oldest daughter reached across the coffee table and took hold of her parents' hands. With tears in her eyes she said, 'Mom, Dad, I love you with all of my heart. You know my feelings about the hurtful things you say to me and to Jim and the children. I must tell you that we cannot go on like this. Please, for the sake of the children, will you consider carefully what you say when you are with our family? We all love you and we need you to be a part of our lives.' "
Loretta paused and then she said, "Cecile, the parents didn't say a word. They got up and left the room and did not look back. Last night I got a call. They want to meet with me tomorrow."
Loretta took a deep breath and drank the last of her coffee. I didn't know what to say. When we got to the parking lot I hugged her and told her I would be praying for her.
John Sumwalt is the pastor of Our Lord's United Methodist Church in New Berlin, Wisconsin, and a noted storyteller in the Milwaukee area. He is the author of nine books, including the acclaimed Vision Stories series and How to Preach the Miracles: Why People Don't Believe Them and What You Can Do About It. John and his wife Jo Perry-Sumwalt served for three years as the co-editors of StoryShare. A graduate of the University of Wisconsin-Madison and the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary (UDTS), Sumwalt received the Herbert Manning Jr. award for parish ministry from UDTS in 1997.
Going Home
by Peter Andrew Smith
Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
Jane climbed the steps and opened the outer door of the building. She ran her eyes down the directory of residents until she found the name that matched her own. Her finger moved toward the buzzer but never reached it.
This was a mistake. She should never have come here. She had said things that she could never take back. The image of her mother's face before she slammed the door filled Jane's vision. There was no going home for her.
"Are you going in, dear?" asked a friendly voice from behind her.
"I don't think so." Jane wiped a stray tear with her hand and lowered her head to move past the old woman coming in the doorway. "I have the wrong building."
"No, you don't Jane Skinner."
Jane looked up to see a wrinkled face framed by snow white hair. The face was older than she remembered but she could never forget the smile of the woman who had taught her Sunday school so many years ago.
"Mrs. Jenkins, is that you?"
"Yes, it is me. I wasn't sure if would remember an old woman like me."
Jane stepped forward and gave her a quick hug. "You were the best Sunday school teacher a girl could have."
"You always were sweet." The smile got wider. "But look at you, you're a grown woman. You have to call me Alice.
Jane smiled in return. "I'm not sure I can."
"Nonsense. You can do anything you put your mind to. You always could." Alice touched her arm gently. "How are you, dear?"
"I'm doing pretty good," Jane said forcing her smile to continue.
"Really?" Alice said. "In my mind standing in front of a buzzer and crying is not usually the sign you are doing good."
"It's complicated. It was nice to see you." Jane started toward the door. Alice stepped to one side but reached out a hand as Jane passed.
"Jane, I don't know what happened. Your mother never told me and frankly it's probably none of my business, but I think you need to know something before you leave." Alice's voice cracked slightly. "She is waiting for you."
Jane shook her head. "You're mistaken. She didn't know I was coming. I didn't know myself until I got on the bus."
"You don't understand, Jane. She waits for you every day. She asks if I have seen you or heard from you every time we talk. Sometimes she goes out looking for you." Alice took a deep breath. "She wants you to come home."
"I can't." Tears streamed down Jane's cheeks. "All I can see is her face when I told her I wished she were dead instead of Daddy. There is no way I can take those words back."
"We are not able to change the past," Alice said. "But what you said isn't the most important thing."
Jane closed her eyes. "How can I possibly face her?"
"By remembering that she loves you dearly," Alice said. "By knowing that she wants you to come home and by believing that forgiveness opens our hearts for God to work a new start in a relationship."
Jane started to sob and fell into Alice's arms. After her crying subsided a bit Alice leaned in close to Jane's ear. "Go home, dear. Go and have a cry with your mother."
Jane pulled away from the older woman. "I should get cleaned up first."
"No, you don't." Alice reached in her purse and pulled out a key for the security door. "You didn't come all this way to hide in my bathroom so you can pretend your heart isn't broken when you go and see your mother. Go and show her your tears, tell her you are sorry, and let that poor women love you."
"But I look awful," Jane protested.
"Trust me. You will be the most beautiful sight your mother has ever seen." Alice unlocked the door and pointed toward the stairs. "Go and see her."
Jane went inside and started climbing to the second floor apartment where her mother lived. She stopped after a few steps and turned around.
"Is church still at 10:30?" Jane asked.
"It certainly is." Alice tilted her head to one side. "Would you like a drive?"
Jane nodded. "Then I'll see you and your mother in the morning."
"I don't know if she will be up for church."
"Dear child, your mother's prayers have been answered." Alice laughed. "Not even the gates of hell could keep her from going to thank the Lord for that. Now get moving before we start bawling again."
Jane turned back to the stairs and made her way home.
Peter Andrew Smith is an ordained minister in the United Church of Canada who currently serves at St. James United Church in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. He is the author of All Things Are Ready (CSS), a book of lectionary-based communion prayers, as well as many stories and articles, which can be found listed at www.peterandrewsmith.com.
*****************************************
StoryShare, March 10, 2013, issue.
Copyright 2013 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
