How do we face our prodigal fathers?

All through Old School and the Gospel of John, we saw glimpses of the truth, love, and strength that seem only to emerge through weakness, a weakness that finds its ultimate expression in western culture in the idea of a God on the cross. Perhaps this theme of weakness helps explain why a secular novel is so thoroughly seeded with Christian references, and why in the end it is an echo of the parable of the prodigal son that helps bring the novel to its graceful conclusion. Still, the conclusion leaves us with questions. Why must we so often come to ourselves only by waking up far from home, among the swine? Why do we insist on earning the many graces in life that we know we cannot merit--including life itself? How do our desires to avoid both grace and judgment lead to lives of quiet desperation, bereft of the sorts of leaps and risks to which the writers in these sessions seem to be calling us? Can we make peace with God, when that god so foolishly--so infuriatingly--rewards us, and worse, our erring brothers and sisters, without considering our respective merits? What would it mean to join in the feast of the prodigal father, and whom might we invite to join in that celebration?

Suggested Readings:
Old School, Finish the Novel
Gospel of John, 18:33--19:7
Gospel of Luke, Chapter 15