Prodigal Song: Hoch’s Parable

Prodigal Song: Hoch’s Parable

The two parables of the Lost Sheep and the Lost Coin (Luke 15) only briefly hint at the theme which the tale of the Prodigal Son elaborates in much greater detail. All three stories (p. 157) emphasize the value of the individual, the unique being, in contrast to the mass or the group. In each case, out of many—a single sheep from a flock, one coin out of ten, one of two sons who is also one among many in a large family—falls or actively chooses to leave the initial shelter among equals, pursuing what could be called ‘the path of individuation’. Upon returning to the fold, however, they return not as they left! The one who ventured out undergoes a transformation, a metanoia; they no longer fit in among their equals as ‘just one of them’. Their continued presence among them is no longer a compulsion but a choice.— Erna M. Hoch, Hypocrite or Heretic: To pretend or to protest. Published for The Christian Institute for the Study of Religion and Society, Bangalore, by The Christian Literature Society, Madras, 1983, pp. 157-158

When I read this interpretation of these parables, I marveled at how Dr. Hoch’s fixation on her petty dogma of ‘individualism’ could distort their original meaning. Fortunately, the evangelist who wrote this is no longer alive today. Otherwise, he would regret such misinterpretation. Particularly striking was her assertion that, ‘The value of the one that has left the many has increased.’ To whom has this value increased? To that individual, to the family, or to the Father who welcomed him back? I cannot speak for Western society. I doubt any Father or Family, while welcoming back the PRODIGAL SON, would consider him a valuable possession about which they can boast publicly. What is the central message of this parable? For me, it demonstrates the COMPASSION of the Father who forgives the prodigal son, despite his disobedience and squandering of his wealth on immoral activities. Yet, note the title of this parable: not ‘THE COMPASSIONATE FATHER’ but the PRODIGAL SON. This is hardly a title to boast about, even for someone who advocates ‘the path of individuation’. Of course, upon his return, he no longer remains ‘just one of them’ among his equals but rather carries the shame of his actions for the rest of his life, both personally and for his family. This is the consequence of choosing to say, ‘My way is the high way’.

In an Asian country, such a prodigal son might forever be remembered as a reference or even the infamous identity of that family. Suppose his name is Ramesh and his Father is Sundar Iyer, among many Sundar Iyers in their village. When a stranger asks for their address [perhaps seeking a bridegroom for a relative or even the prodigal son himself], a local might inquire, ‘Which Sundar Iyer are you seeking? Is it the one whose son eloped with a girl and money’? [They may add embellishments such as eloping with a girl, though not part of the original story]. Notably, the local will not ask, ‘Is it the Sundar Iyer who generously forgave his son’s transgressions and celebrated his return with great COMPASSION.’ That prodigal son will always remain a shameful identity, both personally and for the family. I cannot predict how society [in the Asian country where this story occurred] will interpret this message, should someone like Dr. Hoch impose her pet theme of ‘individualism’, revealing her own mental health issues. I would recommend such individuals consult a qualified psychiatrist for proper guidance or treatment, although she herself was considered a prominent psychiatrist in her time. It is regrettable that this kind of INDIVIDUALISM offers erroneous teachings to society at large and to the Christian church in particular, to which this book was addressed.

Finally, this parable does not promote ‘the unique being’ in contrast to the mass or the group. Instead, it asserts that there is no protection or safety outside the group, and joy is found only when one repents and decides to return to THE GROUP, where they alone will find safety and security, rather than continuing down the path of individualism they have chosen. [See: Adjustment with the Centre. https://dayanandbharati.in/adjustment-with-the-centre/]. Worse yet, when they chose to leave, they were one ‘amongst their equals’, but upon their return, despite being forgiven and accepted back into family and society, they are no longer remain ‘amongst their equals’. They will forever carry a guilty conscience, losing their personal respect and honor not only among equals in the family but even among the slaves and servants, permanently earning the label PRODIGAL SON. Even though slaves and servants may feign respect in public out of fear of the father’s wrath, their personal interactions may betray a sarcastic smile that further wounds him. Unable to bear such humiliation, he may again leave home ‘by choice’, out of ‘compulsion’. This is the potential outcome of any form of individualism, whether in the East or the West.

When my mother becomes upset with me, the only rebuke she uses is ‘the runaway boy [as a sannyasi, thank god not eloping with any girl]’. Yesterday, while speaking to my friend Kannan [who is visiting with his wife at our ashram], she remarked that her only mistake was allowing me to return home. ‘I should have left him as “the runaway boy” [Odipponavan in Tamil],’ she said. However, Kannan tried to remind her that this ‘runaway boy’ has been the sole caregiver for them since he began working in 1973, and has been with them around the clock since his father’s passing in 2017, without ever leaving. But regardless of what I do, my only title or identity remains ‘the runaway boy’, thankfully my mother is not a Christian, otherwise she would call me ‘Prodigal Son’, as she does now.

This is the reality in India. Any boy or girl who elopes with another and later marries properly with the consent of both families will still be referred to as ‘Odipponaval’ or ‘Odipponavan’ [runaway girl or boy] by their family, especially on the girl’s side, and by relatives and society. It may be different in the West, but not in Asian countries, especially in India where she lived, worked, and wrote these papers.

Later, when I shared this with a theologian, he wrote that the central theme of this parable is neither the prodigal son nor the compassionate father, but rather the elder brother’s attitude, akin to the Pharisees.

24-03-2022

Gurukulam