The meaning of a parable is not always to be found in the author’s mind or intention. For the great parables, the ones that speak across time, across culture, and knock on the door of our hearts, have many shades of meaning and many applications. It’s like a great painting – once finished it leaves the artist and can take on a life of its own.

I want to speak briefly about two parables. The first is Sa’di’s “the Tiger and the Fox.” One could read it as an analogy about ‘givers’ (like the Tiger) and ‘takers’ (like the fox, and the man who emulated the fox). The moral being that giving is good, taking is bad (though sometimes necessary), and the world needs more of the former and less of the latter. So, let’s all be givers like the Tiger.

But life is not neatly divided like this. At times we are givers, at times takers, at times both, and frequently the choice is not ours but due to circumstance. So, for example, the one who is very sick, dependent on others for food, care, etc, can also sometimes be a generous giver, a source of insight and blessing to those around them.

Another way to read the Tiger and the Fox is like this: The man who seeks to emulate the fox is concerned only about himself. He is the centre of his world, the only world he can see. Whereas the tiger is not captured by that type of individualism, what the Bible calls selfishness. The tiger sees the other, a world beyond her own world. She sees the other even when the other is of a different species and a competitor for the same food sources. In seeing the other, the Tiger’s world expands.

So the man in his self-centredness is disconnected, alone, and his actions will lead to starvation. Whereas the tiger in her other-centredness is connected, together, and her actions will lead to sharing and survival.

The gospel today ends with a moral, a maxim, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” If your treasure is yourself, and yourself alone, then your spiritual heart will suffer, shrivel. If however your treasure is in being with others, in their pain and promise, then your spiritual heart will grow strong.

The second parable I want you to consider is the well-known Prodigal Son, and, in particular, that there is an over-looked fourth character in this story. Namely, the farm, the ground, the turangawaewae (the place where we stand), our home. Namely, planet Earth.

In other words, I’m inviting you to read this parable with ecological eyes.

The father, the householder, in the story is the one who cares for the Earth as She cares for him. The health of the farm and all its dependents, including his two sons, is integral to his health and wellbeing.

The younger son does not realize how integral the Earth and all who care for it are to his wellbeing. He wants to turn his responsibilities and privileges into cash. He wears a ‘drill baby drill’ cap. He thinks cash will bring him happiness. He wants to take and not give. He is the centre of his cashed up world, the only world that matters.

The older son is jealous of the younger. The older does not delight in the Earth and cherish it. For him it is a burden. Responsibility is a burden. He labels his brother as irresponsible, exploitative, and selfish - and he’s not wrong. But such labelling is not the language of love, it is the language of envy. Which becomes apparent when the prodigal returns and the older can only find the language of blame to greet him.

The father lives for reconciliation, which he knows is the bedrock of wellbeing. Reconciliation between the two sons, but also reconciliation with the Earth. The future of the sons and the father is interwoven with the future of the Earth. The father’s treasure was the interdependent community of humans and the Earth, and this guides his heart.

The younger son squanders his share of the property. The farm, the Earth, is irreparably weakened. It will be a struggle now to care for its dependents. Everyone’s work will be harder. The father has allowed the younger to go and squander, and then welcomes the squanderer back. The father knows the elder son’s heart, and outside the welcome feast he meets the elder son, listens to his pain, his longing, and welcomes him back too.

Yet, is this enough? Will the sons now see that their wellbeing is interwoven with the wellbeing of all of the Earth’s dependents and with Earth herself?  Will they now see that reconciliation with Earth is necessary for the happiness andwellbeing of their own hearts? Will relationship, being with, be their treasure? Or will cash-for-myself in time come again to destroy, and then determine the outcome?

This parable doesn’t have a conclusion. Or a maxim. Or a ‘go do likewise.’ We are simply left with the question of whether suffering, welcoming, listening love is enough to facilitate the reconciliation needed for all these relationships?

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