The Prodigal Son's Elder Brother
Though I have no objection to Papa's giving the banquet for the Prodigal, I fully understand the
older son's being ticked about it, especially because he'd never got so much as a little bash
catered by the local deli. He probably was used to doing everything, and was probably chided
about not doing enough as well. Then along comes the Prodigal, who squandered the same
amount of cash that Older had invested in treasury bonds, and everyone acts as if he is wonderful,
even though they know where he has been.
Cain
While I assuredly
do not condone fratricide, we must remember that Cain had
inherited great
weakness and an impulsive nature from both sides of the family.
And, after all, his gift
had been
rejected - and brother Abel was probably disgustingly smug!
Leah
Leah was a pawn in a dirty
trick; knew Jacob would not have married her unless he thought
she was her sister; and married a man who was so lustful and self-centered that he wasn't even aware
of whom he was in bed with.
Zachariah
who was struck dumb for the mere fact of having asked a very sensible question.
Jeroboam
who endured the ultimate embarrassment of finding himself to be less inspired than a donkey.
Esau
who was constantly being ripped off by his conniving, double-dealing, sneaky brother. Who would
deny a starving sibling a little lentil soup, especially at a time when lentils were three cents a
pound? Mom and Dad always took that little con merchant's side, too!
Moses
who spent 40 years wondering if he'd have been better off if he'd played ball with the
Establishment.
Peter
who always seemed to say or do the wrong thing, despite the best of intentions, and who has the
unpleasant distinction of having his failings known to all and sundry for eternity. Despite Peter's
distinguished pontificate, all anyone seems to remember about the good man is how he behaved
on the night of his ordination - never even allowing for that he'd probably had a few.
The Magi
who certainly followed the right path, but who were led, in the name of protocol and respect, to
tell the wrong authority what they were doing.
Samson
who foolishly thought that a spouse would be easier to handle than a lion.
Lot's Wife
whose only fault was innate feminine curiosity.
Eve
who had only one shot, winner take all. After all, who has any defense against temptation when
it's a brand new experience - and it was her first offense!
Adam
who had to listen, over a life span of 900 years, to his wife's badgering him for having listened to
her, and blaming him for everyone's labour pains.
Job
who had more than the lion's share of torments, not the least of which having to listen constantly
to stupid and condescending advice.
All of the labourers in the vineyard
who were there at dawn, and were assuredly sun-scorched, blistered, and exhausted, but who,
being non-union, got the short end of the stick.
Pontius Pilate
who, at one time or another, must have beseeched the gods to give him universal and enduring
fame.
Mary
who, among other well-known sorrows, had to fret over a lost, precocious child for three days,
then, on finding him, had to be greeted with a very smart-alecky answer.
The Host of the Wedding Feast at Cana
since those who crashed the party in order to see the Master were the reason he ran out of wine in
the first place.
But, most of all, I feel very sorry for that fig tree!
A Lenten postscript: Hunger for charity, not for candy you've "given up". You'll accomplish far more by refraining from unkindness and condescension, rather than smoking or dessert. And share laughter - it makes life far easier for yourself and others.