¹¹ Jesus continued: “There was a man who had two sons.¹² The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them.

¹³ “Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. ¹⁴ After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. ¹⁵ So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. ¹⁶ He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.

¹⁷ “When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! ¹⁸ I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. ¹⁹ I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ ²⁰ So he got up and went to his father.

Luke 15:11-20

How do you travel? Person A makes an itinerary the night before. Breakfast is at 8 AM, Uber to the Museum by 10, to beat the crowd. Lunch at this cute-little-outdoor-café with rave reviews. The afternoon is for shopping, and so on. Person B says, let’s stroll through Central Park and get a feel for the place. I’m sure we will find some out of the way café. Let’s get lost somewhere and find our way home.

A pilgrimage is a combo style. You intentionally decide to take a journey with a set physical path. But you don’t know what will happen, what you will find. You walk until you find what you are looking for. The Camino will give you what you need.

At the beginning of Lent, a group of us watched the movie, The Way. Martin Sheen plays a father whose son dies on the Camino. Their last conversation was an argument. In grief, he spontaneously decides to carry his son’s ashes and finish the Camino for him. A group of mismatched traveling companions forms. They don’t like each other at first. None of them share the true nature of their journey fearing judgement. A woman says she wants to stop smoking but takes frequent smoke breaks. A Dutchman wants to lose weight and finds all the best local food along the way. A journalist has writer’s block and pesters everyone for personal details that might lead to a book about the Camino.

Despite mutual antipathy, they all need help along the way, and wind up supporting each other. Slowly, the true reasons for the journey become clearer. The Dutchman’s wife doesn’t love him anymore because of his weight. The smoker is recovering from an abusive relationship that led to having an abortion. The journalist has writer’s block because he hates being a travel writer. Martin Sheen carries his son’s ashes because he had been forcing his son into his mold rather than seeing him for who he was. They all began the journey knowing something wasn’t right, but they did not really see the cause of distress. They had to walk for miles till the blinders fell. Then they had the courage to see themselves, to come to themselves. Life is made by the walking.

Reflecting on the Camino and pilgrimage spirituality gave me insight into the parable of the prodigal son. We name the story for the youngest prodigal son’s Camino, but there is more to it than the wayward son finding a way home. Biblical scholar NT Wright has suggested we should rename the parable “The Father with Two Lost Sons.” It is possible to feel lost even if you don’t leave home.

Wright says we must remember why Jesus tells this parable. Chapter 15 begins with Jesus teaching a crowd. The Pharisees mutter, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” I don’t think they were affirming Jesus for practicing extravagant welcome. The key word is “mutter.” In Greek, the word goggyzo means quietly criticizing or complaining. Words like murmur, grumble and mumble are onomatopoeia words. They sound like what they mean. “Mumble, mumble, murmur, murmur, goggyzo, goggyzo.” Like the Camino walkers who didn’t like each other at first, and didn’t think they needed each other, the Pharisees don’t like their space invaded by all these losers. They like their club the way it is. So, Jesus tells not one, but three parables about lost and found to make his point. A shepherd loses his sheep, a woman loses her coin, a man loses a son, and all are joyful when the lost is found.

I thought about this dynamic while reading an article about the demographics of the United Church of Christ. We have been losing members for 60 years. We had around 2 million members in the 1970s and now we are under 700,000. The article suggested New England realtors should specialize in churches. With these statistics, you know what we need? We need some sinners and tax collectors! There isn’t time to be picky. Maybe church needs to be more like an inn on the Camino, welcoming the travelers. What would happen if we put up a banner that said, “Prodigal sons and daughters welcome. Resentful older siblings too.”

Back to the parable, the youngest son’s journey is the most dramatic. I wonder what is going on with the family when the son asks for his inheritance. You get an inheritance when somebody dies. The son is saying, “I want your money, but I don’t want a relationship with you.” The parable is neutral about the family dynamics. Is the son spoiled and self-centered? Or are the father and older brother overbearing and he wants out? We don’t know. As the parable progresses, we see the father being generous or compassionate three times. He gives his youngest the money, he welcomes him back, and he goes to his oldest with kindness. But no matter how healthy a family might be from one perspective, someone feels left out, like they are getting the short end of the stick.

We all know how this parable goes. We have likely been the parent or the child. The son thinks he is ready to run his own show, but the money slips through his fingers. He bought a fast car with zero money down, tossed some money around to impress his friends and next thing you know he can’t make rent. You know things are bad when a Jewish boy from a good family ends up feeding the pigs. Not kosher! He’s doing a shameful job in a foreign country, and reaches the point where the hogs slop looks pretty good.

The parable says, he came to himself. This phrase means something more than just a realization. It implies movement. He came to the end of the road, and there, he came to himself. Did he discover who he was, or come face to face with his true situation? One thing is clear. Home did not look so bad. Maybe Dad wasn’t the evil overlord he thought. Sometimes we can’t see our situation clearly in familiar surroundings. We are too enmeshed in old family patterns and resentments to see how things are.

A friend (let’s call her Mary) recently said she struggled with her sister, who was a renegade to the family and very critical of her mother. Her sister finally told Mary what bothered her was a childhood moment when she had asked her mother for help with a stained blouse. The mother said, “I can’t deal with you right now, because I have to take Mary to the awards ceremony.” At that moment she decided Mary was the golden child, and mom liked her best and disapproved of her. When Mary heard the story, now 50 years later, she recounted two stories where her mother said she couldn’t deal with Mary right now, because her brother needed her. Mary had interpreted this to mean that her mother could not deal with her right now. It was a moment where the sister came to herself, realizing there was another narrative she missed.

This story leads right to the older brother in our parable. He comes home to find a party going on to celebrate the return of his younger brother, and goes to his room and sulks. Notice that the father, who received the younger son joyfully, also goes to the older son. He gets an earful. “Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends.” He adds the brother squandered the family wealth on prostitutes, which may or may not be true. But when did he start thinking he was a slave to the father? As Wright said, this son is also lost, though he never left.

He must have stored grievances against the brother for leaving, and against his father too. Did he wish he could leave? Was he actually treated poorly? It feels like a disconnect when we see the father being compassionate with both sons.

The ending is powerful:

“My son,” the father said, “you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. ³² But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”

The parable ends with the future being open. Will the older brother let go of his grievance and join the party? Grace is in front of him and now he must choose. Jesus told this parable to the Pharisees, and now he tells it to us. Are you joining the party, or are you just going to murmur?

Pilgrimages bring us all to this point. You walk and walk… until the blinders fall away.

Sometimes the most important step in faith is simply to walk long enough until you come to yourself. And when you do, you discover that grace has been waiting for you all along. How will you respond?

Buen Camino.