Εἰς τὸ ὄνομα τοῦ Πατρὸς καὶ τοῦ Υἱοῦ καὶ τοῦ Ἁγίου Πνεύματος.
Συχνὰ ἔχω τὴν εὐκαιρία νὰ κηρύττω πάνω στὴν Παραβολὴ τοῦ Ἀσώτου, τοῦ Τελώνη καὶ τοῦ Φαρισαίου, καὶ κάθε φορὰ παρατηρῶ, πόσο εὔκολο εἶνα γιὰ μένα νὰ ταυτιστῶ –,ὄχι πραγματικὰ- μὲ τὸν ἁμαρτωλὸ ποὺ ἐπέστρεψε στὸν Θεὸ, τὸν τελώνη ποὺ στάθηκε συντετριμμένος στὴν εἴσοδο τοῦ ναοῦ, ἀνίκανος ἀκόμα καὶ νὰ εἰσέλθει στὸν ἱερὸ τόπο τοῦ Θεοῦ, ἢ μὲ τὸν Ἄσωτο Υἱό, ποὺ παρὰ τὴν βαριὰ ἁμαρτία του, τὴν ἀπίστευτη ἀναισθησία, τὴν σκληρότητά του, βρῆκε τὸν δρόμο τῆς ἐπιστροφῆς στὴν πατρικὴ ἑστία.
Καὶ πόσο σπάνια μὲ ἄγγιξε, ἔστω φευγαλέα, ἡ μοίρα τοῦ Φαρισαίου καὶ τοῦ μεγαλύτερου ἀδελφοῦ, ὅμως, ὁ Θεὸς δὲν καταδίκασε κανέναν. Εἶπε γιὰ τὸν τελώνη: «Καὶ αὐτὸς ὁ ἄνθρωπος γύρισε στὸ σπίτι του περισσότερο συγχωρεμένος καὶ ἐλεημένος ἀπὸ τὸν Θεό ». Δὲν εἶπε ὅτι ὁ Φαρισαῖος ἐπέστρεψε χωρὶς τὴν ἀγάπη τοῦ Θεοῦ, ὅτι ὁ Θεὸς ξέχασε τὴν πίστη του, τὴν αἴσθηση τῆς ὑπακοῆς του στὸ καθῆκον.
Καὶ πάλι σήμερα βρισκόμαστε ἐνώπιον τοῦ μεγαλύτερου ἀδελφοῦ. Εἶχε ζήσει στὸ πλευρὸ τοῦ πατέρα, ὅλη τἡ ζωή του μεριμνοῦσε γιὰ τὰ συμφέροντα του–εἶχε δουλέψει σκληρά, μὲ πίστη, ξεχνώντας τὸν ἑαυτό του, χωρὶς νὰ δίνει σημασία στὴν κούραση, χωρὶς νὰ ζητᾶ καμιὰ ἀνταμοιβή, γιατί αἰσθανόταν ὅτι ἔκανε τὸ σωστό. Στὴν πραγματικότητα ὑστεροῦσε σὲ κάτι: τοῦ ἔλειπε ἡ ζεστασιά, ἡ τρυφερότητα, ἡ χαρὰ γιὰ τὸν πατέρα. Ἀλλὰ ὑπάρχει κάτι ποὺ ἐντυπωσιάζει σ΄αὐτὸν – ἡ πίστη του· παρὰ τὸ γεγονὸς ὅτι ἡ καρδιά του δὲν ἦταν φλογερή, παρέμεινε πιστός. Παρὰ τὸ γεγονὸς ὅτι δὲν εἶχε λάβει καμιὰ φανερὴ ἀνταμοιβὴ ἢ ἀναγνώριση, παρέμεινε πιστὸς κι ἐργαζόταν σκληρά.
Πόσο σκληροὶ εἴμαστε, ὅταν σκεφτόμαστε ὅτι δὲν τοῦ ἀξίζει ἡ συμπάθειά μας · ἀλλὰ πόσοι ἀπὸ ἐμᾶς, μποροῦν νὰ εἶναι τόσο πιστοί, τόσο τέλεια καὶ σταθερὰ ὑπάκουοι στὸ κάλεσμα τοῦ καθήκοντος, ὅπως αὐτὸς, ὅταν δὲν βρίσκουμε ἀνταπόδοση, ὅταν δὲν ἀκοῦμε ἕναν ἐνθαρρυντικὸ λόγο, ὅταν δὲν παίρνουμε τὴν παραμικρὴ ἀνταμοιβή, ἐπειδὴ οἱ γύρω μας, αὐτοὶ τοὺς ὁποίους ὑπηρετοῦμε, ποὺ δουλεύουμε σκληρά, ποὺ τὸ συμφέρον τους βρίσκεται ἀκριβῶς στὸ κέντρο τῆς ζωῆς μας, τὸ θεωροῦν δεδομένο. Δὲν εἶναι φυσικό; Δὲν εἶναι γιός μου; Δὲν εἶναι πατέρας μου, ἀδελφός μου, σύζυγός μου, φίλος μου; Δὲν σημαίνει αὐτὸ μιὰν ὁλοκληρωτικὴ ἀφοσοίωση δίχως ὅρια ποὺ εἶναι ἡ δική του ἀνταμοιβή;
Πόσο σκληροὶ γινόμαστε συχνὰ στοὺς γύρω μας, ποὺ τοὺς βάζουμε στὴν θέση τοῦ μεγαλύτερου ἀδελφοῦ- ποὺ ποτὲ δὲν ἀναγνωρίζουμε τὸ ἔργο τους καὶ ποὺ πάντοτε περιμένουμε νὰ κάνουν τὸ σωστό, ἀδιαμαρτύρητα καὶ τέλεια.
Πράγματι, ὁ ἄσωτος υἱὸς εἶχε ζεστὴ καρδιά, ἐπέστρεψε μὲ συντετριμμένη καρδιά, ἕτοιμος νὰ ἀλλάξει, ἐνῶ ὁ ἄλλος, μποροῦσε μοναχὰ νὰ συνεχίσει τὴν πικραμένη πορεία του μὲ τὴν ἀμφιταλαντευόμενη πίστη του· ἐκτὸς- ἐκτὸς, ἂν ἀντιμετωπίζοντας τὴν συμπόνια τοῦ πατέρα, καταλάβαινε τί σήμαινε ὅτι ὁ μικρότερος ἀδελφός του ἦταν στὴν πραγματικότητα νεκρὸς καὶ ξανάζησε, ὅτι εἶχε ἀληθινὰ χαθεῖ καὶ βρέθηκε.
Ἂς στραφοῦμε στὸν ἑαυτό μας. Ἐμεῖς, ὅλοι μας, ἔχουμε κάποιον γύρω μας ποὺ τοῦ φερόμαστε μὲ τὴν ἴδια ψυχρότητα, ποὺ πιστεύουμε ὅτι εἶχε ὁ μεγαλύτερος υἱός, ἀλλὰ ὅλοι μας ἔχουμε κάποιον πρὸς τὸν ὁποίο φερόμαστε ἐξίσου περιφρονητικὰ καὶ σκληρὰ, ὅπως φερόταν ὁ μεγαλύτερος υἱὸς στὸν μικρότερο ποὺ εἶχε ξεγράψει, ποὺ δὲν τὸν ἔβλεπε πλέον σὰν ἀδελφό· πρόδωσε τὴν ἐμπιστοσύνη τοῦ πατέρα, ἦταν ἀσυγχώρητος. Κι ὅμως, ἐκεῖ στεκόταν ὁ πατέρας, τὸ θύμα τῆς ἀπόρριψης, τῆς ἀφροσύνης, τῆς σκληρότητας τοῦ υἱοῦ του, ποὺ τὸν συγχώρησε ὁλόψυχα
Ἄς βροῦμε τὴν θέση μας σὲ αὐτὴν τὴν τραγικὴ καὶ ὂμορφη παραβολὴ, γιατί τότε ἴσως βροῦμε τὸν δρόμο μας, εἴτε μπαίνοντας στὴν θέση τοῦ μεγαλύτερου ἀδελφοῦ, πιθανὸν λιγότερο τίμιοι, λιγότερο ἀφοσιωμένοι στὰ συμφέροντα τοῦ πατέρα, τῶν φίλων, τῶν συγγενῶν μας· ἢ ἴσως μποροῦμε νὰ νοιώσουμε συμπάθεια γιὰ τὸν μικρότερο γιὸ καὶ νὰ μάθουμε ἀπ’ αὐτὸν ὅτι δὲν ὑπάρχει κατάσταση ποὺ δὲν μπορεῖ νὰ φέρει εἰλικρινῆ μετάνοια, μεταστροφὴ καὶ ὅτι ὑπάρχει ἕνας– ὁ Θεὸς- καὶ προφανῶς ἕνα πρόσωπο ἢ πολλά, ποὺ εἶναι ἕτοιμα νὰ μᾶς δεχθοῦν, νὰ μᾶς λυτρώσουν καὶ νὰ μᾶς ἐπιτρέψουν νὰ ξεκινήσουμε μαζὶ μιὰ νέα ζωὴ – μὲ τὸν πατέρα, τὸν νεότερο καὶ τὸν μεγαλύτερο υἱό. Ἀμήν.
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Πρωτότυπο Κείμενο
SUNDAY OF THE PRODIGAL SON
Time and again I have occasion to preach on the Parable of the Prodigal Son, on the story of the Publican and the Pharisee, and every time I notice how easy it is for me – not in fact, not in reality, but in imagination – to identify with the sinner who has found his way to God, with the publican who stood broken-hearted at the gate of the church, unable to walk even into the holy space of God, or with the prodigal son, who in spite of grievous sin, of incredible insensitiveness, of cruelty, still found his way home.
And how rarely I was touched to the quick by the destiny of the pharisee, by the destiny of the elder son – yet, God condemned neither of the two. About the publican He said: And this man went home more forgiven, more blessed than the other one. He did not say that the pharisee went without the love of God accompanying him, that God was forgetting his faithfulness, his sense of dutiful obedience.
And again today we find ourselves face-to-face with the elder son. All his life he had lived side-by-side with his father, all his life he had made his father\’s interests his concern – he had worked hard, faithfully, forgetful of self, without paying attention to tiredness, without claiming any reward just because he felt it was right to do so. There was something indeed lacking in him – a warmth, a tenderness, a joy in his father. But there was one thing which is so impressive in him – his faithfulness; in spite of the fact that his heart was not aglow, he remained faithful. In spite of the fact that he received no visible reward or no visible acknowledgement he remained faithful, he worked, as he says – he slaved.
How hard we are when we think of him as of one who deserves little of our sympathy; but how few of us are capable of being so faithful, so perfectly and steadily obedient to the call of duty as he was when we are not met with recognition, do not hear a word of encouragement, do not receive the slightest reward because, as the father did with regard to the elder son, those who surround us, those whom we serve, for whom we slave perhaps, those whose interest is at the very centre of our life, take it for granted. Isn\’t it natural? Isn\’t he my son? Isn\’t he my father? Isn\’t he my brother? Isn\’t he my spouse? Isn\’t he my friend? Doesn\’t all this imply total, unlimited devotion which is its own reward?
How cruel we are so often to the people who surround us and who are put by us in the position of the elder son – never recognised and always expected to do the right thing unflinchingly and perfectly.
Indeed, the prodigal son had warmth, the prodigal son had come back broken-hearted, he was ready to become new, while the other one could only go on, plod on with his stem faithfulness; unless – unless, confronted with the father\’s compassion, he understood what it meant that his younger brother had been truly dead and had come to life, had been truly lost and was found.
Let us think of ourselves. We, all of us, have someone around us whom we treat with the same coldness with which we think of the elder brother; but also all of us have someone whom we treat as contemptuously and harshly as the elder brother treated his younger brother whom he had written off, who was no brother to him; he had been unfaithful to their father, he was unforgivable. And yet, here was the father, the victim of the son\’s rejection, light-mindedness, cruelty, who forgave wholeheartedly and tenderly.
Let us find our own place in this tragic and beautiful parable because then we may find our way, either out of being the elder son, though perhaps so much less dutiful, so much less honest, so much less devoted to the interests of our father, our friends, our relatives; or else perhaps, can we find in our heart a creative sympathy for the younger son and learn from him first that there is never a situation out of which a honest repentance, a turn-about cannot bring us and that there is one at least – God – and probably one person, or many, who are ready to receive us, redeem us, restore us and allow us to begin a new life together – father, younger and elder brother. Amen.