What happened to the Prodigal Son’s mum?

For some years now, I’ve been thinking that Prodigal Son’s dad was a single parent.

You know the story, don’t you?  The parable of a property owning dad with two sons, the younger of whom demands his share of the family inheritance while his father is still living and immediately goes off to squander it away on, shall we say, an ‘inappropriate’ lifestyle.  Finally, having got to rock bottom, he decides to swallow his pride, return home, and seek the forgiveness of his father – who welcomes him with open arms and kills the fatted calf in celebration – much to the annoyance of his jealous elder brother.

Perhaps I am alone here, but have you ever noticed how the boy’s mother is never once mentioned?  The longest parable that Jesus ever told and the person who brought these children into the world doesn’t even get a mention!  Was she not permitted to be the first to greet her long-lost son?  Was she too hurt by his initial disappearance to welcome him back upon his return?  Or perhaps she was not there at all?  Perhaps the story of this particular dad was of trying to manage a growing business, whilst also desperately trying to bring up two teenage boys in a way that would have made her proud?

Of course, we’ll never know.  But it’s interesting to note that when Rembrandt, in 1661, came to paint the Return of the Prodigal Son, he did an extraordinary thing.

Just look at the hands!

As the late writer and Catholic priest, Henri Nouwen, once pointed out:

“It all began with the hands. The two are quite different. The father's left hand touching the son's shoulder is strong and muscular. The fingers are spread out and cover a large part of the prodigal son's shoulder and back. I can see a certain pressure, especially in the thumb. That hand seems not only to touch, but, with its strength, also to hold. Even though there is a gentleness in the way the father's left hand touches his son, it is not without a firm grip.

How different is the father's right hand! This hand does not hold or grasp. It is refined, soft, and very tender. The fingers are close to each other and they have an elegant quality. It lies gently upon the son's shoulder. It wants to caress, to stroke, and to offer consolation and comfort. It is a mother's hand....” (Henri J. M. Nouwen, Return of the Prodigal Son.  1992)

For many of us, yesterday was Mother’s Day – a day on which we rightly celebrate the love, nourishment and comfort that our mums will have offered us throughout the formative years of our life.  But now I’m thinking about all the single parents out there who, for whatever reason, have to wear both hats (or hands) and play the part of mum and dad to their children.

It’s not easy playing two characters in the story of modern family life, that’s for sure.  It’s not easy to know when to apply a strong grip and when to caress, stoke and offer comfort.

So spare a thought today for single dads and mums everywhere who, like the father of the Prodigal Son all those years ago, are trying their best to hold the whole thing together and make it work.

And, above all, remember to celebrate with them when it does.