Parable for Sunday

On the third Sunday of Lent it is traditional to read the Parable of the Prodigal Son. Strangely, I did not realize this before I started writing this story a few days ago, but who am I to reject coincidence?



The Parable of the Provident Son


On the shores of Lake Biwa, in the August of Japan, a wise teacher and his followers gathered for an evening meeting. After their meal, while reclined upon the grass, with the wild clouds changing their color by the minute, the teacher began his story:

"A certain man had two sons. The older said to him, 'Father, the life we live in this land is easy and wasteful. Your harvest is always plentiful, your floor covered with the rich furs of your hunting, from the valleys to the highlands. Every week we feast, and you invite everyone. No one on your lands knows hunger. Your trade is open and wise men come here to learn and explore the sciences. I have seen only a few suffer from illness, and we care for them as best we can, while understanding we all share a common fate. But father, where is our character and what defines us besides our good fortune? Can life really be such pleasure and warmth? I know there is more to life than this, for I have heard tales of the few merchants who find their way here. Though not many return to their homes, I will go with one I have met, for I believe there are principles to be suffered for, I believe I can find something more.'

So the father blessed his son and took all his belongings, burning them in a farewell sparing nothing of worth. Then the son traveled with a merchant to a faraway land. He worked diligently in a small store until he could buy infertile land. His harvest was meager. He married a poor woman who knew how to survive in harsh times. There was little excess, for the king taxed the peasants terribly, saying they must all sacrifice for the principles of the state. After twenty years the elder son had made a life for himself. His hands were calloused and his body ached. Two bad seasons had taken away his profit of eighteen years. His wife complained of their lack to her grave, given by illness, while his sons and daughters left to find profit or pleasure in other lands.

And the elder son said to himself 'I have only character, and what good is that to me now? Can principles be given to my sons and neighbors? Has my suffering added anything to the world which the world did not know? My father's people live in revelry and excess, they give to each other freely, for no one holds back on principle. I will return and make my father's house even better with my knowledge and wisdom.'

And his father greeted him with open arms; he hosted a welcoming party for his son, during which all his brothers and sisters celebrated and toasted his return.

As the night went on, his younger brother came to him and told him all about the advances the family had made; creativity and luck had succeeded in advancing their agricultural and livestock methods far beyond any other country. At this the elder brother fell to the ground, sobbing and clenching the dust.

'Why do you weep, elder brother? Surely all this good fortune is yours to share in!'

'Brother, I now have nothing left to suppose I am special, no knowledge to add to this family, nor this life.'

'Not true,' answered his younger sibling. You have come back to this place and know truly what it is, while I do not'

'Perhaps, yes. Yet I could have gained this supposed knowledge much more quickly if I had simply traveled and opened myself to a few hardships. And who is to say what part of this knowledge is simply age. Now look at me, I am weary and old and have little love for my life.'

'But my friend, taste this wine and put this oil on your body. There are many women waiting to hear of your adventures, and tomorrow we will build you a new tent, more fabulous than any that can be seen. What is age!? Today I am as old as you! Remember your former pleasures and you ensure they will visit you tomorrow. All we ask here is that you enjoy all of life; both sensual and mental, both in respite and in sweat.'

And the elder brother knew then that he had returned home. For in seeking to gain he had found only toil, but in letting go he had found an inheritance, unearned."